Stupid Cunt and Granny:
Double Teaming Your Mom Since 1842

Sunday, December 24, 2006

New Blog!

This is Granny. I have a new blog. I actually started it over a year ago, but I don't like you so I didn't say anything. Also, I stopped writing in it a year ago. But hey, now I care! It's obviously much inferior to this one, mainly because my life has been spiraling downward in a shameful, well, spiral ever since Stupid Cunt had to flee the country, but still. Read it. Or I will hunt you down and shoot your first born child.


Haha just kidding. But no, really. I will hurt you.

Sunday, August 28, 2005

I enjoy Steve Carell

I guess I must be a super-cool person. That's really the only explanation I can think of. For example: I spent the last week hanging out mostly with a friend from senior year (the guy HP) and a friend from the summer of 03 (the girl SB Drunk). Tonight was the last night we could chill, since that whole "plane" thing happens in a few hours. After a while I had to get back so I could finish packing (and so my parents wouldn't get pissed and make me go to community college), and they kept basically begging me to stay later. HP especially got all serious and pussy-like, and then when I was making fun of him, SB Drunk said "Well I'm probably going to cry when I drop you off."

So I laughed at her. I'm such a good friend, it's no wonder people heart me so much.

Oh, AND, I came back to the apartment and saw that I had left Peanut (my piece) out on the fucking floor in my room. I hoped that maybe my parents didn't see it, but things in my room had been moved. Which = badness. There's more, but I'm tired and have to pack. Check ya later, bitchasses.

-Granny

Friday, August 26, 2005

By the way, you were born with a penis

Warning: This is not a feel-good, "respect other people's faith" post.

I am 19 years old. I have always lived with both of my parents. We eat dinner as a family almost every night. I have discussed religion with my father at some of these dinners, while in the presence of my mother. My father is an agnostic, and the best term for me is evangelical agnostic. Neither of us keep that a secret, especially not me (I'd be a crap evangelical if I did). Yet I never had any idea, before tonight, that my mother (my freaking MOTHER) is a creationist (a freaking CREATIONIST). I barely knew she believed in God at all. At freaking ALL.

How could I not know this? Is it crazy abnormal for me to find this out at this age, and practically accidentally? I was telling my dad about a book on evolution I started, and she said something like "Well, you know someone at this table who believes in creationism." I thought she was joking at first, and then I was just sort of stunned. It was almost like finding out I was adopted. I mean, I know that the vast majority of Americans believe in God, and that a scary amount of those people think of evolution as "just a theory," but I always assumed that my family was safe from that. Even though religious beliefs are a touchy subject and my relationship with my mom is less stable than the hydrogen-3 isotope (hah! chemistry joke! loser!), I tried to get her to clarify/defend her beliefs. Unsurprisingly if you've ever talked to her, and I have, so I wasn't surprised, I didn't get any straight, specific answers. All of her answers were fags. Nonspecific fags. Like Ripsy. (By the way Rips, what do you think about evolution? And L12? SC I don't need to ask, I know she lurves Jesus and all. Any of our other reader? You can be honest, guys-I'll judge you, but I'll make a valiant effort not to.)

-Granny

Thursday, August 25, 2005

British people are crazy. Look at this. Look at whats wrong with this. http://www.sitemeter.com/default.asp?action=stats&site=sm6idiotrollcall&visit=66&report=9&vlr=11&pg=41&rnd=2005825 Tell me. Man. I'm high.

I talked to a woman in the laundromat for like ten minutes while my friends jsut laughed at me. Then a car almost ran us over. Before this, I rapped. Shay with the gauge and vinalla with the nine.

Tuesday, August 23, 2005

Pimp + Ho = Granny

I'll write about my San Fran mini-road trip in a while, but first I want everyone to know what a fucking pimp I am. Last night in Santa Barbara I hung out with a high school friend, HP (because he's a Huge Pussy-I don't have a deal with Hewlett-Packard.... yet). We had a strange little attraction thing our senior year; the details are irrelevant, but I pretty much got the shit end of that stick. Oh how the tables have turned. First we went and got high on the beach (his weed), and the rest of the night consisted of 1) me getting hit on by or flirting with every guy I met even though it looked like HP and I were on a date, 2) me talking constantly about how I love older men and really want to have good sex, and 3) him getting pouty and jealous. He even told me I have pretty eyes-gag, spoon.

At one food place I had the guy behind the counter running to get me water, and I kept HP waiting while I talked to some Marines that were there. HP challenged me to get a cigarette off of these two gooooorgeous guys walking by, and I totally won. Seriously, they were freaking hot. Soon before I left, HP asked me what I thought of him, and I tried to deflect the question. Eventually I said something about how I just look at him as a friend, and he said, "You can be attracted to friends, though, I mean, I am." No shit, I'm trying not to answer, so let it go, Pussy.

The best part, though, was the cab ride back. We were sitting by the part of the sidewalk where taxis line up-by the bars-and I kept talking about how one cabbie was cute. It was partly to annoy HP (I'm a bitch, sorry, whatever), but I decided I really didn't feel like walking back, so I jumped on that shit. Then the cabbie hit on me like whoa, reduced my fare, and ran out to open the freaking door for me when we reached my stop. Guys on dates barely do that. He tried to get me to hang around, telling me how I was his last customer of the night and asking my name and shit, but face-to-face I realized he was a little too goofy-looking for me, and heel-to-sneaker a little too short, so I just left.

Guess who I saw tonight when I was back on State Street? More accurately, guess who saw me and stopped to chat? Yeap, and he was riding a bike, which struck me as a little odd.

Unusually, the ho parts were fewer than the pimp parts, but of course they had to happen. On the beach I called out to one British guy "I want you inside of me." He barely flinched (those crazy British), but HP practically fell off his seat laughing. (Keep in mind: weed.) Later, walking back, a carload of guys shouted something at us. I laughed because I thought they were calling HP queer, but no. They weren't. Instead... was this lovely greeting: "Show us your tits!" Charming.

I'm really fucking tired, so if this post was too abrupt, too long, too whatever, I don't give a shit, call my secretary.

Tuesday, August 16, 2005

Muggle's one of them British words

Whenever I watch a British comedy, I have to put on subtitles. Otherwise I'll only catch half of a joke, at best, and I'll hear the laughtrack, so I know it's supposed to be funny, but I just can't fucking understand British people. Does this happen to anybody else? It's like Eddie always says: People say that America and England are two countries separated by the Atlantic Ocean... and they're right.

-Granny Lola

By the way, L12, I'm getting paid to blog right now! You should come work for my dad, we had a party yesterday, during which I stayed on the clock.

And SC, would you want to lend your car to the worthwhile charity of me moving my boxes from the mailroom to my dorm? I’m almost certain I have a single, which is awesome. You can hide out there if your room gets too claustrophobically cheerful.