Stupid Cunt and Granny: Double Teaming Your Mom Since 1842

New Blog!

2006-12-24T13:05:00.000-05:00

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.

I enjoy Steve Carell

2005-08-28T01:55:00.000-05:00

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

By the way, you were born with a penis

2005-08-26T00:57:00.000-05:00

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

2005-08-25T02:12:00.000-05:00

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.

Pimp + Ho = Granny

2005-08-23T02:48:00.000-05:00

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.

Muggle's one of them British words

2005-08-16T10:40:00.000-05:00

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.

Effervescing Elephant

2005-08-12T02:50:00.000-05:00

Despite what you might think after reading about my final F, my struggles with those goddamn staples, the time I fell off a stationary motorcycle, and basically everything else about me on this thing, in reality I am actually very stupid. A few short stories surrounding my attempts to get a driver's license should crystallize this fact for anybody just joining us. First was the test just to get my permit. Twenty basic questions about road rules. I failed it. Got back in line, took it again, failed it again. (That was completely unnecessary embarrassment because apparently even if I had passed that second time, it wouldn't have counted. You can't take the test twice in one day. Motherfuckers.) All that driving and waiting in line wasted a hell of a lot of time. Like this blog, but with more pollution. After my THIRD failure a week later, a friend told me about the 72 questions in the back of the handbook from which all the test questions were taken. I studied just those questions and passed.

Then, because my state is a bitch, I needed to wait a full year before I could get my license. In the months before the year was up, I was entertaining dreams of greatness. Driving by myself was gonna rock! I was gonna get down with my 16-year old self! February 8th arrived, and I drove with my mother to the DMV half an hour away. We waited in line for 58 years and finally got to someone. I asked to take my driving test, and handed over my permit. The homosexual worker looked at it and said, "I'm sorry, new rules say you have to have your permit for a year."

What? I didn't get it-I mean, I did have it for a year. I passed on February 6 the year before, and now it was February 8.

Yeah, not so much. See, for some reason I had always thought that I had passed in February, and when the date got closer, I had never actually checked the date on my permit to be sure.

I had taken it on March 6. I was a month early, and once again I had wasted about 3 hours of both my and mother's life. Jesus Hitler Christ.

-Granny Lola

Droppin the F-bomb... Fart you

2005-08-11T11:43:00.000-05:00

I went from getting the highest grade in the class on the midterm to getting an F on the final. A fucking F. That's only the second time ever that I've flunked a test-calculus was first period, I drove myself to school that year, and I oversleep-do the math (hopefully better than I did, ZING!). Let this be a lesson: when you skip half of your classes, don't listen in the classes you do go to, don't read the textbooks, and don't study at all for a big test, you're gonna fail that test. I'm probably the only person here who actually needs to learn that lesson.

This sucks. Why the hell did I take a course in the summer anyways?

-G

I hope I don't need to sign my name on this one

2005-08-10T12:23:00.000-05:00

I have a paper and 2 homework assignments to finish, 2 essays and a cheat sheet to write, and a final in five hours to study for so this isn't going to be long, I just wanted to let everyone know that from now on until I get bored of it, my name will be Granny Lola, and you may all address me as such.

Say it, don't spraaay it. I want the news, not the weeeather.

2005-08-08T15:04:00.000-05:00

I was about a block out of my house when I noticed the skywriting. The skywriting that was above my head. In the sky. Get it? Got it? Good, because it was almost the funniest thing I've seen all week.

"JESUS LOVES U LOTS"

Thanks annoying church, I'll take that with me on my travels, as well as the comforting knowledge that the Lord's earthly representatives are wasteful enough to uselessly try to recruit through skywriting at noon on a Monday, yet are still too cheap to spring for a "y" and an "o." I wonder if the adman for that church thought that people, after seeing writing magically appear in the sky, would believe that it was a personal message from God and rush off to confess their sins. They might catch a few druggies who don't have jobs and just lie outside all day, seeing fucked up shit in everything and forgetting about the existence of skywriters, but I don't have much faith in those druggies getting up off their heathen asses and going to church.

The funniest thing I saw all week? Ok, since you asked... Remember that song "U + Me = Us (I know my calculuuus)" from 80 thousand years ago? Well an hour or so later, in the same spot that the last message had been written, was a fresh twist on an old standard, in hip, fresh, mispelled lingo like the kids use (and you know how much those kids love their math!):

"U + GOD = ETERNAL BLISS"

Except replace "ETERNAL BLISS" with, and I'm dead serious, a big-ass smiley face. You. Plus God. Equals. A smiley face. Fuck, in that case I'm safe-I have pot for the smiley face, and my pocket rocket will always love me, so I guess I don't need God, if it's not offering me eternal bliss. Anyways, I don't like people who cop out with emoticons, so I can't have a double standard when it comes to divine entities.

- "Kidding about the pocket rocket, it's actually very unreliable, although I have due in 2.5 hours a paper of which I have written absolutely nothing-Christ, I haven't even opened a file for it-and I know those two things are not related in any way, but I got 2 hours of sleep and fell asleep in a bookstore today while trying to write said paper, but obviously never started because I'm so freaking tired, so cut me some freaking" Granny "Slack"

I HAVE WEED!

2005-08-07T18:23:00.000-05:00

Got high last night, got high at lunch, and guess what I'm going to do tonight?

That's right: wakeboarding.

Wakeboarding while HIGH.

It has been too long, my friends. Too. Long.

-"Um, sorry I stopped for so long but my summer is incredibly boring" Granny "and I'll try to remedy that in California"

Hold on to your hats, ladies and germs

2005-07-19T09:51:00.000-05:00

Yesterday was an amazing day. After I tell you about it, even SC will bow before my wild, take-no-prisoners approach to life. I'm considering not even saying anything about it because it might scar your fragile psyche, but hey, fuck you.

First I went to work-now don't get too excited yet, there's more! And don't lie, I know you just got sexually aroused-I can spot that boner from 35,000 miles away.

Then... I studied. Oooh, Mr. Little Giant likey, I see.

And then I took a midterm. Whoo, that thing's gonna poke someone's eye out.

And FINALLY... I had more class.

I know, I know. How do I do it? To make things even CRAZIER, I'm about to venture somewhere that none of y'all have gone before-

my gym. Boo-yah!

-G

By the way, SC, I might be able to visit, a few days before school. Break away from your Felon penis and be online tonight around... 11? I'd call but talking sucks.

Put paper to pen and spell out Eliza

2005-07-17T02:00:00.000-05:00

I was looking through our mail yesterday when I came across... stuff.

As in Stuff Magazine. I don't have any brothers, for whom that sort of thing would be expected, although it would be weird to have it delivered where anyone could see it, but the point is that it's just me, my mom, and my dad. I know I sure as hell didn't order it, so I figured it was my dad, although that creeped the shit out of me.

Then I looked at the address label. It was addressed to my mom.

What the FUCK is my mom doing subscribing to Stuff Magazine? Please tell me. Thank you.

-G

My anti-drug is crack cocaine

2005-07-15T22:49:00.000-05:00

Today I walked out of a Publix (a grocery store) and ended up in front of a makeshift stand of some sort. There were two guys standing next to a table-one of them was reasonably attractive, and I was wearing my "magic when mixed with food" shirt, so when the cute one asked me to stay and talk awhile I thought, "Ooh, maybe my shirt will strike again." (Shirt: The Movie: The Ride)

Then I looked down at what they were hawking. It was a thing for D.A.R.E. I don't remember what the letters stand for, but it's a gay anti-drug program that we had at my middle school. I got all disappointed and said, "Oh, no can do, I'm pro-drugs." I started to walk away, but these anti-drug FASCIST COMMUNIST AUSTRALIAN NAZIS are tenacious little fuckers. The guy called out, "Are you pro-drugs even for kids?"

I turned around and smiled. "The younger the better."

"Oh yeah? How early do you think kids should start doing drugs?"

"God, I don't know, like seven?"

"Funny, everyone else has said seven." (Hah! Nobody respects them!)

"Great minds think alike. Maybe you should listen to us."

Laugh, exit, End Scene.

After this episode, I started doubting my shirt. Maybe it's not magic. Maybe those other times were nothing more than coincidences. But then I realized that I had walked out of Publix without buying anything. The other two times that my shirt worked, I had actually been in the process of buying food. From this I concluded that it is not enough to be in/near a venue where copious amounts of people are buying food-I need to personally buy foodstuffs in that type of venue for my shirt to do its thang. This knowledge will undoubtedly help me sleep easier tonight.

Back to DARE. Those of you who know me, know that my drug of choice is marijuana, and we all know that weed makes people stupider than they normally would be. This dovetails nicely into my next anecdote, wherein I, The Undersigned, do something stupid. For a change.

So about an hour ago I was driving up to a red light in the right-hand turning lane, and there was a motorcycle next to me. I looked over at it, and the chick on it (I think it was a chick) looked at me and pointed at something. I looked in the direction of her finger, back at her, back at the finger-direction, and couldn't figure out what she was trying to tell me, so I shrugged and made my turn. For a few minutes, I kept wondering what she had been doing, but eventually I just wrote it off as random strangeness. Specifically, strangeness on her part. Benefit of the doubt, my ass.

Anyway, I got home, pulled up to our garage, and realized that I had been driving for almost twenty minutes in the middle of the night with my lights off. Maybe I should've given that guy some of my time...

Oh, and je ne pas preggers. Three cheers for half-cootie-free me!

-G

Workin' on a chain-gang, and then fuckin' with the chains

2005-07-14T10:53:00.000-05:00

This morning I accidentally implied to a coworker that my dad and I have rough, kinky sex.

Which is true, technically, but I didn't want my colleagues to know! They're my colleagues! I have colleagues, I get along with them, and I don't want to fuck that up! I also don't want to spell colleagues wrong, but I think I may have! Oops!

-G

Hate to say I told you so...

2005-07-13T22:37:00.000-05:00

but I told you I was an early drunk. So was my sister. We used to go carousing. We liked to carouse. I can prove it, with another informative pictorial tutorial.

My sister is simultaneously holding me up and leaning on me to hold herself up. If those arms weren't there, I would've slithered to the ground and passed out. It's hard to tell in the scaled-down picture, but her eyes are wandering off into the distance. My eyes are glazed, my smile is glazed, my head is bobbing, and my arms are limp. My sister drunkenly decided to wear alien stalks to top off her bridesmaid outfit, and I thought a pumpkin purse would be a good choice for my WEDDING. A white wedding is not the appropriate place for a fucking pumpkin purse.

My poor, perpetually tipsy sister. Always the bridesmaid, never the bride:

What can I say, we really like being wasted at weddings.

Excuses time: I haven't written anything in a while for five reasons. One, Stupid Cunt was supposed to fill up a few days with the rest of her sex/fight/hooker/hiking/cult stories. Two, I've been working and taking a class. Bu-sy. Five, nothing has happened. (See two.) The most exciting thing I've done was take a home pregnancy test in a Barnes & Noble bathroom while running errands for my mom. And that's not very exciting at all.

-G

Politics is like a fine wine. Or, you know, not.

2005-07-06T22:50:00.000-05:00

Tonight I went to the second class, first for me, of a comparative politics class. The teacher is a small Korean woman who talks slowly, talks quietly, and talks about meaningless stories from her personal life. Now, I am in no position to criticize meaningless tangents-they can be fun, and hella better than learning-but damn, when a person spends two minutes struggling for the right word to end what is meant to be funny story, they are just painful. This class lasts three hours...

An hour into it, the class's collective eyes are inevitably glazing over, when she says something that made everyone rise a bit out of our swamp of apathy, look around, and say, essentially, "what?"

"Government is like pornography."

This is what we had been tuning out? Had she been talking about porn this whole time, or at least specific dirtiness of politicians? Had we all missed that because it was too hard to strain to hear her? Was this class going to be interesting after all?

No. She started talking about Boolean expressions as a way to blah blah blah, and back into the swamp we descended.

And now for something completely different, and late: I live in a gated community. A week or so ago, I was at Barnes and Noble and left to go home, as people are wont to do. This store is ten minutes away from my house.

I got lost.

I got lost after I passed through the gate.

I was literally two blocks away from my home, and I forgot where the fuck I was. Say it with me: wow.

-G

Now That's What I Call Classy!

2005-07-05T22:22:00.000-05:00

My mom's been an old-photo kick lately, scanning old pictures of our family into her computer. Since I don't anything to write about, I'm going to use images as a crutch. I now present the first part of what might be an ongoing series if it turns out that last weekend used up all of the excitement for the summer. Try and guess the theme of these-don't worry dumbfucks, it won't be hard to figure out. Just look at the title of this post. Idiot!

First up is Blondzilla:

This was taken on my fourth birthday, after we all enjoyed some cake and right before I went on a rampage and smashed everything in the classroom to the ground.

Here are a couple from a pleasant day out:

Drinking beer out of a paper cup bigger than my head, and shoving my finger in my mouth. I rule. (And yes, that's beer. I was a young drunk.)

Eating with the wrong side of the fork:

Yes, my shirt says "College Smart" while I look like I'm retarded. Oh sorry, that was insensitive. I meant "mentally" retarded.

Um...

My defense: I was, uh, holding toxic stickers that infected my bloodstream and then fucked with the nerves that control my facial mo... Ok, fine, I'm a dumbass. Geez, I couldn't even scan the picture in straight.

The burp heard round the world:

At least I assume I was burping. I told you I was an early drunk. You don't want to know what was in that glass-it sure as hell wasn't some pussy-ass beer, I'll tell you that much.

And finally, one of my favorite pictures of my sister:

Hilarious.

-G

Fucking B-A-N-A-N-A-S

2005-07-02T17:27:00.000-05:00

Last night I went to a mini-party. It was at the house of a friend of a friend, let's call her Toni, and I knew only the friend I went with. For the first three hours, we sat around waiting for "the gay guy with the alcohol" to get there. Everyone else had gone to high school together and mostly talked about people from there, so I was bored out of my ass. Then the gay guy got there. I'll call him Jake, because that's what I named him last night after forgetting his real name. Where I got Jake, I have no idea, but turns out his first crush was named Jake. I'm psychic. Anyways.

How many times do I have to regret doing vodka shots before I stop fucking doing them? Something tells me that this time will do it. We started drinking at 12:30. An hour later, I was drunk as hell, thought these people were hilarious, and fucked a random guy in Toni's brother's bedroom. Without a condom. Laughing through some parts of it. Immediately after, I rolled over and started vomiting into a trash can. This lasted for about, oh, my entire life. Naked except for a bra, I woke up at 7 AM to a nasty hangover, which is still going on, thank you very much. Oh yeah, and I was in a shower. And the shower was in a flooded bathroom. Jake told me that Toni had pulled me there last night, turned the water on, and fallen asleep. I had, of course, passed out in the shower, water still streaming gloriously.

That flooded-ness was on the second floor, and it caused serious water damage to the first-floor ceiling: big-ass water spots, water dripping out of the fucking vents, shit like that. Toni's mother is coming home tonight. These things do not mix well together. If we couldn't either find a way to fix this shit without her mother knowing or come up with a damn good excuse, her mom would, according to Toni, "go out of her way to make [my] life a living hell." And nobody likes a living hell. It was fucking go-time.

Unfortunately, I was sick and out of it-I couldn't do shit about anything besides freak out and say "I can't get kicked out I can't get kicked out" over and over. Armed with a (small) towel in addition to my bra, I crawled into a closet and passed out again.

Thank god Toni eventually came up with something that her mom believed, but that was scary as hell. And now, big shock, I have a cold from sleeping naked in a freaking waterfall. I also can't get a prescription for Plan B because no Planned Parenthoods or anything like that near me are open. So that's where my life is at right now: sick, hungover, and possibly infected with cooties. Great.

-G

(Bet you all thought this was SC, didn't you? Sex, drunk things, crazy situations, possible herpes. Well look who's fucked up now, bitches? WUT! [No offense SC]

Oh, and I told the guy I was a virgin beforehand-he kept saying "are you sure about this, you have to say it" and I finally said "fine, whatever, fuck it." I am tres romantic. But that's not the point-after he left the room, he apparently told everyone that he felt so bad because he had no idea I was a virgin. Such a lie, but whatever, I didn't even know how to pronounce his name until after he stripped off my clothes.)

The Staple Gun 2½: The Smell of Idiocy

2005-06-30T11:35:00.000-05:00

One of you will be pleased to know that I have bested myself in the dumb-staple-removing department. I had been stapling, unstapling, and scanning papers for about ten minutes, managing to not be a retard in that time, but we all knew it was coming.

I reached out for the staple-remover, absent-mindedly clawed at the paper with what I believed was the correct implement, and slowly realized that nothing was happening. I looked down and saw that instead of a small brown thing with teeth, I was holding in my hand...

a big-ass stapler.

Yeah, that's right: I tried to remove a staple with a stapler. Goddamn.

-G

This is neither funny nor interesting. I'm just saying.

2005-06-30T11:26:00.000-05:00

Today was a good day. Very peaceful, except for the morning which blew, now that I think about it, but it ended happy. I finished one book about the election of 1876 (Florida can't not fuck things up even in the 19th century) and started one mostly on evolution and another one on the Founding Brothers/Fathers. About an hour ago I got a call from two semi-old friends and we made plans for Friday, and then I had one of those really nice random conversations with a woman I met in a store. Now I'm watching poker. Not exciting, but not bad for a Wednesday, and especially a Wednesday I should've been at work for.

I just want it on the record that I can do more than complain about my parents sucking, and my grades sucking, and my laundry sucking.

-G

Oh, I also decided that I want to do something to change the world. Not like a huge change, and not right now, but I want to do what I can in whatever my chosen profession will be to have an impact on other people's lives. I also want to learn as much as possible about as many things as possible as soon as possible (except when there's a poker tournament to watch, because c'mon, what's more important: TV, or changing people's lives? That's what I thought.)

Yeah yeah, laugh it up freaks, I wrote a serious post for once. You won't be thanking me in ten years when I'll be cool and you'll be drool... ing.

Oh my god, there's a bear in my oatmeal!

2005-06-29T13:13:00.000-05:00

Overhead at the dentist yesterday:

Doctor: How did it get in your mouth? Unless there’s a leak somewhere…
Woman who I assume is dazzling and charming: Well you’ve poked me so many times that it’s entirely possible.

That same incredible woman: I’ve never had my mouth open this wide for this long.

Overhead at lunch the other day:

Artist Lady: I was trying to get him [her son] on JDate, but he didn't want to.
Mother: I tried to set my friend up with him, she’s been divorced two years, and she didn’t want to meet him, can you believe it?
Me: Who?
Mother: Rangy Hotlips.
[Rangy Hotlips. She's my mom's therapist, and for a few weeks, she was our family therapist. My mom tried to fix up our ex-family therapist. Naturally, I cracked up.]
Me: Maybe she should’ve seen a marriage counselor for that.

-G

Antioxidants have got me causing accidents

2005-06-25T21:32:00.000-05:00

Once again, ignore my previous post. L12, I fart on your shit. Don’t expect me to keep up the level of intrigue and excitement that has been consistent in everything else I've written, though. Every day can’t be a staple-removing day!

Anyways, today I was at the gym and decided to go sunbathe by the pool. While I was walking there, an old man smiled at me and said something. I had headphones on, so I took them off and he repeated himself. Guess what this guy said to me? A friendly greeting? A comment on the weather, which everybody knows makes for scintillating conversation?

Nope. He said happily, "You look like a fraternity boy!"

I laughed along with him for a second, and once his words sunk in, I laughed and laughed even more. Then I punched him in the gut, sending him flying over a conveniently-placed fence and proving my femininity. Take that, ancient bitchass.

In his defense, I had on an oversize shirt from a men's college sports team, I was disgusting and sweaty, and I have short hair, so I probably did look like a frat guy after a workout. But I’d never met this man-he’s not supposed to randomly tell me I look like a boy when he had obviously realized that I was not a boy. In fact, I still am not a boy. Amazing how rarely these things change in the course of one's life.

Another quick story. This one also takes place at a gym, to illuminate just how fun and excitement-filled my life is. So. I’m pretty sure the new guy working at the gym was staring at me. When I was leaving, he gave me this look, which I can’t explain, but whatever. This would’ve been a bit creepy in most circumstances. Luckily, this isn't most circumstances. He's hot. And he only works weekends, so guess where I’m going to be tomorrow?

Yeah, that’s right. I never thought I’d say this, but I heart Boca.

-G

Di, I'm outtie.

2005-06-22T20:38:00.000-05:00

I'm bored with this, and was planning on stopping for the summer anyways, so crack out bitchasses.

-G

15 Things for which you will heart me, because I rule

2005-06-20T21:09:00.000-05:00

I wasn’t planning on doing this, at least not for a while, but being under house arrest for attempted genocide can make a girl do crazy things.

1. I want to name my first-born “Wham!” With the exclamation point. The exclamation point is vital.
2. I lie a loooot.
3. Seriously. Like, for no reason, I’ll lie in conversations with random people that I’ll never see again. It’s fun. #1 isn't a lie, though.
4. There have been times where I’ve felt a strong urge to beat up my mother.
5. I only indulged that urge once, so yay for self-control!
6. I would totally have sex with Stephen Colbert.
7. I hate feeling sorry for people I know, so I try to avoid either certain types of conversations, or certain people.
8. I once pissed on somebody’s chest during sex.
9. I got paid more for that act alone than I have for almost any other sexual favor that I’ve performed.
10. I hate dramas, action films, essentially anything besides comedy. Laughing is one of my favorite things to do.
11. I’ve been in three car accidents. One was all my fault, one was half my fault, and one was completely not my fault. I’ve never copped to my share of the blame in the halfway one, but my mother thinks they were all my fault anyways.
12. I love watching poker tournaments.
13. I went through a period where I believed I was asexual. I realize now that it wasn’t that I wasn’t interested in any guys as much as I wasn’t interested in any guys that were around. And completely unrelated to this, so unrelated that I’m putting it in the same number, there are so many cute guys at home. Even the middle-aged men are hotter, on average, than the guys at my college.
14. I have a thing for older men. Older, usually married men. That’s probably not going to turn out well.
15. I used to be a crackwhore. Unfortunately, I did not have a crack pimp, and had to leave the business. Being a crackwhore without a crack pimp is like being an actress in Hollywood without an agent-success is not going to come on your tits.
16. I meant come knocking on your door!
17. Numbers are SC's thing, not mine, so back the fuck off. 15, 17, it's all the same in my mind.

-G

SC, clear a space on the floor for me.

2005-06-16T19:42:00.000-05:00

So. My dad wasn't kidding about kicking me out for oversleeping. Today I didn't have to go into work so I woke up a little before noon, then ran errands for my mom. Because I wasn't up earlier, my dad lectured/threatened me for about half an hour on how if I oversleep (which now equals waking up after 9) one more time, I have to move out permanently.

Here's a list of other egregious activities for which my father may or may not have threatened to kick me out within the past week. Try and pick which happened and which didn't-it's fun!

1) Eating food outside of the kitchen.
2) Forgetting to take out the trash.
3) Wearing pajamas at any time other than bedtime.
4) Falling asleep with the lights on.
5) Falling asleep downstairs, on a couch.
6) Crashing my mom's car into the water heater, breaking it.
7) Bringing cigarettes into the house. (For this one, you should remind yourself that I'm 19.)

Go on, guess!

-G

Yes, Virginia, there is homosexuality!

2005-06-12T13:28:00.000-05:00

I was trying to remember the name of the little girl who wrote a newspaper asking if there was a Santa Claus, the response to which became famous even though it's such a homogay answer. ("Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies!" Um, well, yes.) The way the question itself is written is pretty laughable to begin with. (Read both if you want a good chuckle.) The famous line is: Yes, [girl's name], there is a Santa Claus.

I thought, is it Veronica? So I googled that quote with Veronica as the girl's name, and I came to this part of a story:

Jack heaved a big sigh of relief and lay back down. "Yes, Veronica, there is a Santa Claus!"
"It's 'Virginia', Jack. 'Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus'."
"Whatever."

I read a little further out of curiosity, and guess what kind of story it is? A short story about friends just hanging out? A sweet tale about the joys of Christmas where by the end, everybody has learned to buy the world a Coke?

Get a clue, chicken testicles. It's gay porn.

What's more, it's gay STARGATE FAN FLICK porn.

Maybe I'm just unfamiliar with the genre, but it seems a little bit strange to me that gay fan flick porn came up as one of the eight or so results for that search. And that the gay porn then informed that no, dumbass, it's Virginia, not Veronica. Now that's porn I can get behind.*

-G

*GET IT?!

Non-Diabetogenic Diuretic

2005-06-10T09:59:00.000-05:00

So instead of kicking me out, my dad gave me a raise. (I'm working for his company over the summer, that wasn't a sexual incest-uendo, SICKO.)

What did I do to deserve a raise? Beats the shit out of me. I have a good memory and a dazzling smile, but I spend most of my time fucking around on the web, I don't have any challenging tasks, and the company pays for my lunches. I guess I have to chalk it up to good old nepotism: it's the axis upon which our nation turns.

Let me tell you about an encounter I had yesterday with a staple, to illustrate just how much I don't deserve a raise. (I know, I know, lesbian sex v. staples-I'm falling behind in the post wars.) I'm sure you, fair reader, with all of your life experience, are familiar with these staples of which I speak. (Amazing, you don't look a day over 29/39/49!) You also probably have used what we in The South call a "staple remover." Tricky buggers, they are. You see, I have been working in this office for a good ten weeks, total, and a crucial element to much of my work is unstapling stacks of paper. (Can you handle the excitement?) Even before my venture into the daily grind, I have utilized the staple remover. But today, while using my hands to rip a half-out staple the rest of the way out, I had a rather humbling epiphany.

I, the office ingenue, the fresh-raised nepostic employee, the Ruler of Heaven and Earth, had been using the damn staple remover wrong my entire life.

Bow before me.

And how about the title of this post for a band name? I think it has a nice ring to it.

-G

So this duck walks into a bar

2005-06-09T10:27:00.000-05:00

So I had another completely insane, crazy, sexual, drunken night last night... Just lemme know if these posts are getting redundant.

So I started drinking at like 6 and was thoroughly sloshed by 8. But nobody else was! Then what happened... oh god my memory fails me... OH Then everybody else got drunk, and me and my boyfriend just quietly left the conversation to go drive to some deserted road to park and have sex. Which we did. Then we went back and everybody was getting *really* drunk now. Somehow I took off my shirt, and then this other drunk girl took off her shirt and we started making out, and then we went into the woods to go fuck. I'm so glad I had lesbian sex- I LOVE penis, but sometimes you just have to fuck girls. So we did that for a while, and then my boyfriend and her boyfriend came to break up the party, because my ex-boyfriend's mom was all pissy and telling everybody at the house to leave. So before we all left, we decided to go to this other kid's house. I'll just call the other kid "Lame Rich Kid", or LRK. Because it's sooo easy to remember... But yeah, so before me and the boy went there, we went and fucked for like an hour and a half, so that by the time we got to LRK's house, everybody had left. We were all confused and stuff, so we went back to my ex-boyfriend's house to find him fucking FLIPPING OUT. We were sitting inside with him while he was throwing carrot cake (yes, it was iced...) all around the whole fucking house, then we suggested that he go drink anti-freeze, so he went outside. Finally, we breathed... but not for long. CLICK the lights went out... the fucker hit the fuse box... so we go outside and find him trying to start his mother's car... douche bag that he is. BWFSCN tried to get the fuse for a while, and I walked down the drive way (in BARE FEET and I got GLASS stuck in my left foot) and dragged the little bitch out of the car. He's at least 80 lbs. heavier than me, and I fucking carried him up twelve stairs and into his room. He fought me, but I've been lifting weights, so I was actually a pretty good match for him, even though he was like twisting my arms like a third grader. It was retarded. So I get him in bed, and then I go back out to find BWFSCN, who's just about given up on the fuse box. So we sit for a little while, because I was scared out of my mind and shaking like crazy... but then my ex-boyfriend comes back out (and after I spent all that time putting the bastard to bed.), and starts throwing shit and going crazy. So me and the boy left and went and slept in a meadow again.

UGH

SC (As if I have to sign this... who else would have such a fucked up story to tell?)

You can wrap it up in ribbons, you can slip it in your sock, but don't take it out in public, or they will stick you in the dock.

2005-06-07T20:12:00.000-05:00

I'm going to go out on a limb, if I may. A phallic limb, if you have that sort of mind. I know I do. I'm going to argue that a lot of the sexual education that students receive, either formally or informally, in their formative years, isn't being learnt for the first time. It's relearning something that they knew when they were but tykes. Everything we need to know about the dangers of sex, we knew in kindergarten.

See, when I was a little kid, I knew about STD's even though I didn't know about sex. You may not have known about sex either, but you damn sure knew about STD's. Instinctively, we all did. We just called them cooties. Don't believe me? Cooties: invisible things that could infect you if you touched a member of the opposite sex, potentially making strange and unwanted things emerge on/from you, like rashes, uncontrollable burning, or babies. STD: same fucking thing. Yeah, that's what I thought.

Sure, we were a little over-zealous in the prevention of contracting one (simple hand-holding ain't gonna do it), our remedies for stamping them out were a tad primitive (Circle circle dot dot, now I have the cootie shot? You know you did it.), and it's doubtful that anyone we were in physical contact with even had an STD to begin with (except for your ex-prostitute/pimp parents), but that's my point! Nobody had them! How many little kids running around giving each other cootie shots were also running around having unprotected sex with high-risk partners? How many were having protected sex, for that matter? That's right, none. You think I considered for a second sticking my third grade teacher's penis in my mouth when he asked me to, even when he promised me an A in spelling? Hell no!

What do you think was the cause of that? Puberty not yet kicking in? Not realizing that my teacher was way hotT? Thinking that it was "morally wrong" or some other pansy shit like that? Realizing that if I waited until high school and college, I could do the same thing for grades that actually counted?

WRONG!

Well, except for the future grades thing. But mostly it was that oh-so-conscious fear of death/babies. Cootie shots: they don't do jack shit after the fact, but they're the perfect preventive medicine.

-G

Reefer Mandamus

2005-06-07T06:01:00.000-05:00

The only point of this post is to remember to track down the headline writer for this article* and send him a present, perhaps sex*^, because I heart him*^*.

-G

*The headline is the title of this post. The article is about the Supreme Court ruling on medicinal marijuana. The link is just there to help me in my hunting, no need to click. If you have already done so, feel as if I wasted some of your precious time, and want to complain, I offer you this: ha-HA, now I'm wasting even more of your time by making you read THIS!

*^I know you can't send sex. Shut up.

*^*Or her. Some people think I can, and do, swing that way, so, um, I don't even know... They obviously don't read this blog. One guy thought so because I wasn't interested in either him or his friend*^*^, when they just weren't that interesting or good-looking.

*^*^It also may have been because SC and I kept slapping each other's chests all night.

Good news for people who love bad news

2005-06-06T19:26:00.000-05:00

Oh yay, a new minus: my dad threatened to kick me out of the house. Why? That whole oversleeping issue. Ahhh, I love the smell of perfect logic in the morning.

-G

Upon every silver lining, some rain must fall.

2005-06-06T17:00:00.000-05:00

Fact: My boxes from school arrived last week.
Plus: They weren’t thrown in a dumpster as I had originally feared.
Minus: An extra box came that isn’t mine.
Plus: I know whose it is.
Minus: It contains Robert, a bong. My parents would not be pleased if they found out. They might slap me upside the head, in which case I would have to rape each of them up the ass multiple times until they screamed for mercy and let me keep the bong full and on display in my bedroom. So I guess this one is more of a plus than a minus.

Fact: I live on a golf course.
Plus: It provides a pretty view of a lake and well-kept grass.
Minus: Behold our door.

Thanks a bunch, bitchass golfers!

Fact: My parents lease an apartment in the cooler part of our state for the weekends.
Plus: The building is right on the beach and has a nice gym and a Jacuzzi.
Minus: Those things can potentially combine to cause a person like me to potentially put off finishing an important paper that could potentially be due today.
Minus: As of now, I have an incomplete in one of my courses from last year. Potentially.
Plus: After an hour at the gym, an hour in a Jacuzzi is soooo nice.

Fact: I had a doctor’s appointment today that I wasn’t too enthused about.
Plus: I didn’t end up going.
Minus: Because I overslept.
Plus: I got a lot of sleep.
Minus: I’m in troooouble.

Fact: It’s my mom’s birthday today.
Minus: I pissed off my mom on her birthday.
Plus: For once I knew what she actually wanted for a present: an iPod.
Minus: I had to spend my first paycheck of the summer and more on it.
Minus: I don’t think she realized that I spent my own money on it, thus negating much of the goodwill I expected to receive from this.
Plus: I further put off writing my paper by going to the mall.
Minus: I further put off writing my paper by going to the mall.

Fact: I went to a deli to pick up dinner.
Minus: I spent more of my own money there.
Plus: The guy getting the food for me and ringing it up talked to me all seductively.
Major plus: He was cute AND from Argentina, which equals hot accent.
Coincidence: I was wearing the same shirt that I wore when a waiter gave me half my meal on the house. This shirt, plus me buying food, equal sign magic.

-Granny"It's Insane This Guy's Taint" Apple

What the fuck is a stastistic?

2005-06-02T13:45:00.000-05:00

I went to the gym this morning, and almost blacked out because I hadn't had time to eat breakfast beforehand. A trainer had to drag me into the bathroom, and I walked into a wall because I couldn't see anything. Of course, I walk into walls when I can see, so...

In other shocking news, I did not give head to a guy in front of his best friend. There's always next week.

-G

My feet hurt.

2005-05-30T16:36:00.000-05:00

Yesterday was a very high-society day for me. I saw the portrait that this painter Britto did of me, I met David Caruso and his wife, got an invitation to their house in L.A., and then I ate dinner with P. Diddy. All of this is true. Except for the Puffy thing. It was really just someone we nicknamed Puffy.

My friend's dad: You can't be a fucking idiot when you're driving just because you're lost. Cars fucking kill people. It's like driving a gun!

So true.

-G

Seinfeld, 4?

2005-05-28T20:51:00.001-05:00

Tonight at a restaurant I managed, without wearing slutty clothing or flirting with the waiter, to get half my meal on the house. Sucker.

Wow, this makes three posts in one day-we sure are overcompensating for our little vacation. Although neither of us exactly put a lot, or any, work into these posts, so that's good.

-G

So things got a little wild last time I was double-teaming your mom...

2005-05-28T01:33:00.000-05:00

WARNING: The following is weird. "SC" is "SourisYeux" and "PixyFucker" is Granny.

SourisYeux (1:20:28 AM): dan's away message sucks
Pixydust713 (1:21:37 AM): what is it?
SourisYeux (1:23:05 AM): "away"
Pixydust713 (1:23:22 AM): dude thats always yours
SourisYeux (1:23:32 AM): only when I'm here
Pixydust713 (1:23:57 AM): haha
Pixydust713 (1:23:58 AM): not true
SourisYeux (1:26:53 AM): eh
SourisYeux (1:26:55 AM): murder
Pixydust713 (1:27:04 AM): yeah... good point
Pixydust713 (1:27:21 AM): dude i cant believe i finished my islam thing in time
Pixydust713 (1:27:36 AM): and my boxes are getting home
Pixydust713 (1:27:41 AM): everythings turning up go!
Pixydust713 (1:27:43 AM): or green?
Pixydust713 (1:27:46 AM): or... sunny?
Pixydust713 (1:27:48 AM): heads up?
Pixydust713 (1:27:52 AM): what the fuck is that phrase?
SourisYeux (1:29:26 AM): no clue
SourisYeux (1:29:37 AM): everything's turning up retarded?
Pixydust713 (1:29:51 AM): no...
Pixydust713 (1:29:52 AM): hm
Pixydust713 (1:29:57 AM): google will know
Pixydust713 (1:30:03 AM): ROSES
Pixydust713 (1:30:05 AM): fuck google
SourisYeux (1:30:08 AM): mm
Pixydust713 (1:30:09 AM): no wait thats wrong isnt it
Pixydust713 (1:30:12 AM): fuck
Pixydust713 (1:30:16 AM): come back google, i lvoe you!
Pixydust713 (1:30:56 AM): ooo i think it is roses
Pixydust713 (1:30:58 AM): go me
SourisYeux (1:31:16 AM): it's roses
SourisYeux (1:31:20 AM): the people in my house are right
SourisYeux (1:31:37 AM): or daisies
SourisYeux (1:31:38 AM): steve says
Pixydust713 (1:33:11 AM): ouch daisies got zero on the google meter
Pixydust713 (1:33:18 AM): roses it is
SourisYeux (1:33:23 AM): mk

Pixydust713 (1:38:31 AM): omg did you see poon's eye?
Pixydust713 (1:38:35 AM): i jsut saw today
Pixydust713 (1:38:44 AM): eyeS
SourisYeux (1:40:48 AM): where are his eyes?
Pixydust713 (1:45:52 AM): hold on
Pixydust713 (1:46:53 AM): http://www.sugarmrpoon.com/comments.php?id=4606_0_1_0_C
Pixydust713 (1:47:07 AM): hes so cute
SourisYeux (1:48:19 AM): oh man! he IS cute
Pixydust713 (1:48:44 AM): i know
Pixydust713 (1:48:57 AM): you can totally tell hes younger than his brother
SourisYeux (1:50:10 AM): you're a freak
Pixydust713 (1:50:42 AM): im just saying
Pixydust713 (1:50:53 AM): his brother was pretty hot
Pixydust713 (1:57:02 AM): if you knew how many times i looked at his eyes today while procrastinating on my paper
Pixydust713 (1:57:07 AM): you'd laugh
SourisYeux (1:57:13 AM): weirdo
SourisYeux (1:57:19 AM): I'm surprised you finished, too
Pixydust713 (1:57:22 AM): there was noone cute in the library!
Pixydust713 (1:57:29 AM): only old ogly guys
Pixydust713 (1:57:30 AM): ugh
Pixydust713 (1:57:35 AM): i wasnt even wearing a boob shirt
Pixydust713 (1:57:38 AM): me too
Pixydust713 (1:57:43 AM): i still have econ!
Pixydust713 (1:57:44 AM): wheeee
SourisYeux (1:58:53 AM): they hit on ye?
Pixydust713 (1:59:21 AM): ye? who the fuck are you, sternn?
Pixydust713 (1:59:25 AM): and no
Pixydust713 (1:59:30 AM): i had headphones on the whole time
SourisYeux (1:59:44 AM): aw
SourisYeux (2:00:45 AM): I hate dogs
Pixydust713 (2:00:51 AM): i realized i cant spend more than an hour or two in the same place and get any work done
Pixydust713 (2:01:06 AM): i kept driving to fucking different bookstores and coffee shops
Pixydust713 (2:01:08 AM): why?
Pixydust713 (2:01:12 AM): what about your dog?
SourisYeux (2:01:45 AM): I like my dog, but he's dead
Pixydust713 (2:02:01 AM): oh my god im sorry
SourisYeux (2:02:16 AM): no he's not
SourisYeux (2:02:17 AM): lol
SourisYeux (2:02:19 AM): I'm a biiiitch
Pixydust713 (2:02:22 AM): hahaha
Pixydust713 (2:02:30 AM): fer serious
Pixydust713 (2:15:27 AM): but why do you ahte dogs?
SourisYeux (2:15:33 AM): I don't
SourisYeux (2:15:36 AM): who told you that?
SourisYeux (2:15:39 AM): flipping liar
Pixydust713 (2:15:56 AM): ah, you were just making conversation
SourisYeux (2:17:12 AM): yeah
SourisYeux (2:17:15 AM): I lurve
Pixydust713 (2:18:51 AM): ...
Pixydust713 (2:18:58 AM): just in general?
Pixydust713 (2:19:00 AM): why do i ask...
SourisYeux (2:19:07 AM): in general, yes
SourisYeux (2:20:36 AM): I lurve lurve
Pixydust713 (2:20:48 AM): hahahahah no you dont
SourisYeux (2:20:53 AM): for $32,000 your next cat can be an exact copy of your last cat. that's freaking weird.
Pixydust713 (2:20:56 AM): unless youve finally made the switch
Pixydust713 (2:21:05 AM): dude i read about that last YEAR
Pixydust713 (2:21:10 AM): the cat cloning?
SourisYeux (2:21:24 AM): dude it's on the front page of nytimes.com
SourisYeux (2:21:26 AM): sicko
Pixydust713 (2:21:59 AM): how am i a sicko?
SourisYeux (2:22:33 AM): SICK
SourisYeux (2:22:34 AM): oh
Pixydust713 (2:22:54 AM): oh
Pixydust713 (2:22:59 AM): SICK
Pixydust713 (2:23:09 AM): look, now its a paradigm!
Pixydust713 (2:23:13 AM): parabola...
Pixydust713 (2:23:15 AM): para...
Pixydust713 (2:23:17 AM): something....
SourisYeux (2:26:50 AM): hyperbole
SourisYeux (2:26:52 AM): dumbass
SourisYeux (2:26:56 AM): parabola's a math curve
Pixydust713 (2:27:09 AM): not hyperbole
Pixydust713 (2:27:31 AM): the thing that's the same backwards and forwards [I figured it out later: palindrome. Yeesh, that was killing me. -G]
SourisYeux (2:27:34 AM): whatever
SourisYeux (2:27:37 AM): shit on your grave
SourisYeux (2:27:40 AM): I think it's called that
Pixydust713 (2:27:45 AM): i fart in your general direction
Pixydust713 (2:27:50 AM): i think its called THAT
SourisYeux (2:28:02 AM): mm
SourisYeux (2:28:05 AM): sexxxy
SourisYeux (2:28:07 AM): oh baby
SourisYeux (2:28:09 AM): yessssk
SourisYeux (2:28:13 AM): puhlease
Pixydust713 (2:28:20 AM): ew
Pixydust713 (2:28:23 AM): mark would probably like that
Pixydust713 (2:28:28 AM): mmmm SMELL
Pixydust713 (2:28:30 AM): Y
SourisYeux (2:28:43 AM): SHIT STINK FUCK WHORE PISS CUNT COCKSUCKING MOTHER FUCKER SLUT
SourisYeux (2:28:52 AM): let's make a list of bad words, mk?
SourisYeux (2:28:53 AM): shit
SourisYeux (2:28:54 AM): fuck
SourisYeux (2:28:55 AM): cunt
SourisYeux (2:28:58 AM): whore?
SourisYeux (2:29:06 AM): who're whores?
Pixydust713 (2:29:20 AM): this bores me a little
Pixydust713 (2:29:27 AM): and by a little i mean .
SourisYeux (2:29:38 AM): DOT
SourisYeux (2:29:39 AM): dot dot
SourisYeux (2:29:42 AM): dot dot DOT
Pixydust713 (2:29:44 AM): lol
SourisYeux (2:32:00 AM): you totally miss me and my antics
Pixydust713 (2:32:16 AM): thats the title of an interpol cd
Pixydust713 (2:32:17 AM): i like it
Pixydust713 (2:32:25 AM): not as much as their first
SourisYeux (2:32:36 AM): really? "you totally miss me and my antics"?
Pixydust713 (2:32:42 AM): yeah
Pixydust713 (2:32:53 AM): except without the "you totally miss me and my" part
SourisYeux (2:33:17 AM): oh
SourisYeux (2:33:21 AM): so you're a FUCKING LIAR

and later...
Pixydust713 (2:36:52 AM): hahah kidding
Pixydust713 (2:36:58 AM): i mean LYING

I like the last part. Kinda my favorite. [I like how I come across as stalking Mr. Poon. That was one fucking poon-filled night, if you know what I mean, and I think you do. Poon, if you're reading this, I'M NOT OBSESSED WITH YOU. I just want to kill Ms. Poon and have your babies :) ]

I wish you much sex on top of automobiles. WITHOUT CONDOMS because I HATE PROTECTED SEX.

SC

Warning: This might be serious. We report, you decide.

2005-05-27T22:39:00.000-05:00

Driving back from Barnes and Noble today, I went past a section of the grassy lane divider that is always being watered. Normally I don't notice it unless it hits my car, but today I did, and it was so beautiful. Glorious, even. As I drove up to the sprinklers, and saw the graceful arcs of water streaming through the air, something moved inside my soul. Those valiant jets of H20 racing with the pouring rain to get to the ground first was almost epic. As they splashed against my soaking wet windshield, I heard trumpets sound.

Beautiful.

-G

I know I said I was leaving, but that's just... something you say.

2005-05-26T23:14:00.000-05:00

Ok, so I'm back too. Yaaaaaay! My on-again-off-again relationship with MySpace is on again, and I was trying to get L12 to make a profile there to entertain me. She agreed on one condition: that I blog again to entertain her. Cogito ergo sum, here I am.

First I will tell a little story that she might already know about, but fuck it, there weren't any rules on what I had to blog about. A few days ago we had some guy come and fix our internet connection (my virus infected computer shut it down-you're welcome, mom and dad!), and while he was here he cleaned out some things on my and my sister's computers. I remembered to change my screen saver, "The penis mightier," but I forgot about my background... When I went down to where he was working, he and my mom were in front of my laptop, staring at this: UBS Says BJ Services "Pumping Ferociously." Greaaaaat. My computer must think I'm such a pervert.

(Why is that my background, you ask? Mr. Poon is fucking badass, that's why.)

On a side note, I can't believe Ken Jennings lost the Tournament of Champions. So sad. Even sadder? I didn't even watch him compete. I started, but had to turn it off because I knew literally no answers. There's no fun in Jeopardy if the questions are all about shit that I've never heard of and don't have any interest in. And yes, I enjoy Jeopardy. It's a family dinner thing-saves us from having to converse with one another.

Oh, and eighty points if you get the title. Hint: replace "leaving" with "engaged." Oh who am I kidding, none of you bitchasses know what I'm talking about.

-G

I bounce back like rubber. Bitchzzzzz

2005-05-25T00:23:00.000-05:00

Yes, it is I, Stupid Cunt, here to rescue our sadly ignored blog. Igored, that is, aside from the eight bazillion comments on the last blog (recaplet: Granny talking smack about how she rapes her own mother. Poor sad Granny.).

So I'm going to blog about what *I've* been up to, lately. Buckle your seatbelts, kids, this isn't going to make *any* sense:

So when I got home, I went to my best friend's house, and we hung out and decided to cook ALL OF THE PASTA IN THE UNIVERSE. Yes, we were that bored. So we did something CRAZY: We mixed different types of pasta in the SAME POT and cooked it all for the same amount of time. You can't DOOOO that! Some pasta's bigger- it cooks slower- this whole thing was just madness!
But you know- whatever.
So then we cooked tomato sauce, and decided we would cut up these eggplant patties that were in the freezer and put them in the sauce. Well, we defrosted them in the microwave, so they got all mushy, and when we put them in the sauce, it became... like one substance. It was weird.
Then we decided to made dessert. We made rice cripsy treats! Except, we made them with neon purple food dye, and Crispix. And then we put sprinkles on top. It sounds weird, but it was just fabulous girls! (please say the last sentance with a lisp. The gay community thanks you.)

Then I sold drugs to the man I'm completely in love with, and had sex on the hood of my car with some other guy.

Tah-dah! Theeee End!

SC

No gay son of mine is a not-gay!

2005-05-18T14:14:00.000-05:00

College ended for SC and I last Friday and we went back to our respective homes, so we're not sure what's going to happen with this thing over the summer. SC's not going to post (which is a HUGE change, I know), and I'm thinking I won't either. So farewell for now, all our faithful readers (i.e. people I know in real life), and I'll leave you with a truly inspiring story about the puppy who lost his way:

"Waiter, there's a coupon in my salad!" I shouted to my mother.

She slapped me.

THE END

Epilogue: There really was a coupon in my salad. It was for more salad, which is smart, targeted marketing. I would like to put coupons for ice cream or brownies or fucking lard bars in diet foods, just to taunt people. And now that my epilogue is longer than my story and I have revealed myself as a bitch, I bid you adieu.

If you're bored at any point this summer, and I mean extremely bored, go here: L12 got a blog!

-G

Three-way kisses: hot or awkward?

2005-05-13T23:09:00.000-05:00

Yeah, um... awkward. Know what else is awkward? Slow-dancing with a guy you just met, in his brother's room, on a dare, after having earlier three-way kissed him and another girl. Oh, and then him saying "This would be really nice if I knew you better" and later laying his head on my stomach and wrapping his arms around me, almost as if, you know, he knew me better. The word of the night was: awkward! I swear, it's like as soon as we finished our first year of college, my friends and I regressed back to middle school, complete with Truth or Dare, Ten Fingers, and (thankfully) an impressive amount of alcohol and pot.

Random idiocy time: I was asked what superhero I would choose if I could be one, and I said that I didn't know that many, just "Batman, Superman, Spiderman, Rubberman, that's a guy right? Stickman and... Aqualung?"

I'm pretty sure I got the Rubberman thing from Seinfeld, but Aqualung? Stickman? Yeah, "stick" is a word! Add a "man" to the end, then that makes a superhero!

How I'm up this early is beyond me. Packing sucks my wooden penis. That is all.

-G

2005-05-13T14:17:00.000-05:00

Ok I'm seriously going to go to sleep right after this. Last night when I was finally leaving L12's room to go do my paper (due yesterday), McPP asked if I was going to the library. I go, "Yeah, or as I like to call it, 'the races.' Because then I can say 'I'm off to the races!' and it sounds so elegant." I probably thought that was funny or something, but looking back... I'm just insane aren't I? I'm definitely insane by now, after caffeine pill-ing it through the night. Argh and that all you can drink/smoke thing starts at 9-30 apparently unless I want to end up on the floor? Yay, 5 hours of sleep here I come!

g

Je suis le walrus

2005-05-12T04:50:00.000-05:00

Mmmmm, oh yeah baby, that's it, ooooh god that's good...

Whew, sorry about that, it's just that cold leftover pizza at 6 in the morning really gets me hot.

-Le rus de wal

Oh, the hilarity that ensues when you pretend you're in a boat.

2005-05-10T20:44:00.000-05:00

SC: I AM wearing underwear! Just not right now.

G: Don't worry, I got it under contrucking fole.

Right now, SC is trying to fit into a storage bin. McPP is trying to put the top on. Now SC is pretending it's a boat, and is blowing on the top, or as she likes to call it, "the mast."

SC: Don't you remember when you were a kid and you were like "I'm safe, because it's plastic, and plastic is like a boat, and boats are safe!"?

McPP: Is it like a safehouse?
SC: Yeah, it's really safe!

I'm gonna go get drunk and put off the paper that counts as one third of my credit. Don't worry, it's not due until the day after tomorrow.

Jesus fucking Christ, I just turned around and saw that she's still in the fucking bin.

Me: Why are you still in that disgusting bin?
SC: It's a safe. boat!

-G

Would you like. to touch. my penis?

2005-05-10T13:54:00.000-05:00

One example of why I shouldn't be allowed in a library: L12, McPP and I were going to a giving head seminar (which was at the library... slut week, weird school, blah blah), and as I walked through the revolving bar thing, my bag got caught and I screeched like a fucking howler monkey. (Fine, howled like one. You're so picky.) Then I yelled to the world about how I forgot I was supposed to be quiet.

Some fun quotes from that night (the evening that was supposed to end my stupid day, yet I'm still stupid):

Me: I shit my pants. [Turn around and stick my ass out] Can you smell?
L12: I hope so!

L12: When me and Stalin have sex, you can join in. You can give me oral sex. At the same time. I want penis, fingers, and oral sex all at the same time. There's room, my vagina is huge!
Me: Yeah, your vagina is the world! Look up, you think you see sky, but no! It's your vagina.

McPoopiePants: Stalin, how big is your penis?
Stalin: Big.
Me: Yeah, like an avocado! No...
Me, literally ten minutes later: Cucumber!

Female Lecturor: If you find yourself in the vagina with a couple of fingers...

Girl in audience: Ask first, don't just go biting the vagina!

Guy in audience: Yeah... ask before you shove anything up a guy's ass.

This place is PC to the infinity: the guy and girl giving the talk, during the blowjob part, kept saying "male-bodied persons" instead of guys. Then during the eating out part, the chick referred to "girls" a couple times, and I was going to jokingly correct her ("I'm sorry, it's 'female-bodied persons' ") but she corrected herself. Jesus.

-G

We used to make drawings... CAVE drawings! Which is my way of saying we were cavemen.

2005-05-08T00:36:00.000-05:00

Alcohol may piss me off, but salvia... now there's something I can get behind. I had some paranoid fucking weird-ass dreams last night. The main one had me and two of my friends competing as a team in some sort of tournament, and one of them betrayed our team. When I found out about it, I also found out that the woman she sold us out to was planning on killing us after she won (??). I confronted my friend right before the thing (Chess tournament? Golf?), and she was all "don't worry, I gave her wrong information, there's no way she can win." And then she won. And I screamed "I hate you!" at both of them, more because I thought I was gonna be murdered than because I lost. What ended up happening was that my friend got adopted by the other woman, and no important characters died. Then I apologized to my friend's new mom for overreacting, and then we went and ate lunch at a cafe. Yeah. Weird.

My friend at UCSB im'ed me last night... Partial transcript:

SB Drunk: k im back
SB Drunk: are you still high?
G: \ppp
SB Drunk: apparently
SB Drunk: ahhhhhhh only one more hour till johns done working!
G: m
SB Drunk: but i should give him time to shower and stuff
SB Drunk: if he gets off at 945 when shouldi go to his room?
G: b
G: lp;
SB Drunk: dude

Yeah. High.

-G

An Interview with Paris Hilton

2005-05-07T15:50:00.000-05:00

...that's right, people. Somebody tried to *talk* to this woman. Jesus.

I wanted to add my commentary... so here it is, from this link:

Q: So how would you describe your occupation?
PARIS HILTON: I don't know. I'm an actress, a brand, a businesswoman. I'm all kinds of stuff. [And by "businesswoman", I'm pretty sure it's safe to say she means "hooker." I'm just saying...]
Q: If you had to pick just one...
HILTON: An actress.
Q: So all of this -- the partying, the modeling, the reality show -- was just your journey to an acting career?
HILTON: Yeah, I guess.
Q: Do you read what's written about you? Do you pick up the tabloids? [The interviewer should've just stopped after the first three words of this question. The answer is obvious.]
HILTON: I don't read any of it. I just look at the pictures to see what I was wearing last week and if it was cute.
Q: Do you read blogs? [Here's where Granny and me are FEATURED!]
HILTON: What's that?
Q: Um, they're these things on the Internet where people write about news and stuff.
HILTON: No, I don't really read anything on the Internet except my AOL mail. I don't like people who sit on computers all day long and write about people they don't know anything about.
Q: Paris, you just described my job.
(Her publicist, Rob Shuter, laughs.) [Nice.]
Q: What did you want to be when you were a little girl?
HILTON: A veterinarian, but then I realized I could just buy a bunch of animals. [I'm speechless. She's beautiful.]
...
Q: So let's talk about the movie. I'm sure you've had a gazillion scripts on your doorstep. Why do "House of Wax"?
HILTON: It's a fun summer movie about teenagers. When I got the script, I went out and got the original and thought it was creepy and fun. And because of Joel Silver. I've known Joel since I was little so I was very excited when he asked me to be in one of his movies. He's a Hollywood legend. [I like how she has to tell us who is and isn't a "Hollywood legend".]
Q: Tell me about your character, Paige.
HILTON: She's very sexy. She's a small town girl. [Aren't those opposites?]
Q: You do a lot of kissing in this movie. What was that like? ["In this movie"?? Try "a lot of kissing PERIOD"...She beats my record (probably), and that's saying something.]
HILTON: It was hard because I've never done anything like that before. [...yeah right.] My boyfriend -- not my boyfriend now (shipping heir Paris Lastis) -- got really jealous about it, but then he realized it's just a movie.
Q: Which boyfriend?
HILTON: I don't even want to say his name. [except replace "want to say" with "remember"]
Q: In the beginning of the film, a few scenes feature you being taped with a camcorder. Whose idea was that?
HILTON: That was in the script. I just went along with it. I wanted to show people I can make fun of myself and not take anything too seriously. [Shame on you, Mr. Interviewer! You thought that Paris would do anything out of the script? Shame.]
Q: How long did it take you to come to that point?
HILTON: I don't know. Over this past year.
Q: What's your favorite horror movie?
HILTON: I like a lot of the old, creepy classics like the Freddy Kruger movies and "The Shining." Jack Nicholson is really scary.
Q: Who do you want to be your new "Simple Life" co-star?
HILTON: I want it to be Kim (Stewart, daughter of rocker Rod), but it could be anybody. I don't know.
Q: Have you spoken to Nicole following the big breakup?
HILTON: No, we haven't spoke in a while. I've been very busy with my boyfriend and the movie and everything. She's been very busy. She's engaged.
Q: So what could you possibly do on "Simple Life 4"?
HILTON: Go to Maui.
Q: Why?
HILTON: They want to sex it up, have us more in swimsuits and stuff. [At least she's honest... but I don't know- "Maui" just doesn't say "simple" to me... slut.]
Q: But what would you do?
HILTON: I don't know. We could work as lifeguards or work in a hotel or something.
Q: "Baywatch" tried that and it didn't work.
HILTON: Tried what? [Oh man... she's slower than I am!]
Q: They went from the United States to Hawaii, which I guess is technically the United States. Anyway, it didn't work. [Editor's note: Hawaii, of course, is one of the United States.)
HILTON: (Silence.) [Yeah, that's right, bitch.]
...
Q: So are you really a ditz?
HILTON: That's just for the show.
Q: Is the "Simple Life" scripted? [Scandal! Reality television... SCRIPTED??? *NEVER*]
HILTON: Not really. That's what we're trying to do to freshen it up. I mean, not like the first season.
Q: What's hot right now in entertainment? What TV shows do you watch? What music are you listening to?
HILTON: I only watch "The Simple Life." I don't have time to watch anything else. I like 50 Cent, Maroon 5, Britney Spears. [She watches her own reality TV show. Is this weird to anybody else? Shouldn't she have had enough of, oh, say her *own* reality?]
Q: What do you think of Britney settling down and getting pregnant?
HILTON: I love it. She's been talking about wanting to settle down and get married and have kids for a while. I think it's good. (She and Kevin Federline) are really cute together.
Q: Where do you see yourself in 10 years?
HILTON: I don't know. Married to my boyfriend with two kids and a house. Still acting and doing stuff. [...yeah right.]
Q: What kind of wife would you be?
HILTON: A good one. I'd cook and clean. [Possibly my favorite line. This really shows Paris's feminist side.]
Q: What would your children's names be?
HILTON: Paris and London.
Q: Paris for a girl? London for a boy?
HILTON: Yeah. [OBVIOUSLY...achah! *hair twirl*]
Q: Why are you so popular?
HILTON: I don't know, because of who I am. I'm not like anybody else. I'm like an American princess.
Q: What would you be like if you were -- I don't know -- Paris Smith?
HILTON: I'd be the same. Maybe I'd be a veterinarian. [Again with the opposites...]
Q: In your career, what are you most afraid of happening?
HILTON: I don't know. Nothing. [Nothing? What if i stole your cell phone and published the address book on the internet? Oh... yeah. I guess she's already been through quite a lot.]
Q: Nothing? What about in your personal life?
HILTON: I don't know. Death. [Deep.]
Q: Why? What's so scary about death? [Seriously- what's so scary about never waking up, or seeing the light of day, let alone your friends or family, ever, ever again? I find such thoughts comforting. Like lullabies.]
HILTON: Because I don't know what happens.
Q: Neither do I, Paris. So it sounds like you're entering a new phase of your life with all this talk of kids and marriage. What's up with that?
HILTON: I've been going out since I was 16. I'm sort of over it now. (Latsis) doesn't really like the whole scene and the photographers and all that. We sort of just stay in and cook and hang out. [Barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen: Paris Hilton's next phase. God help us.]

Sincerely,
SC

Now I'm dead, and I'm late!

2005-05-07T13:07:00.000-05:00

Every time I get drunk, I tell myself that I'm never drinking again. But do I listen? This time I will.

Oh, and SC made out with five people. Four girls, one guy. One girl was McPP. And the guy? Let's just say that McPP had sex with him earlier last night. Because she did.

I can't write more. My brain isn't working too well.

-G

Vaneella vohdkah

2005-05-06T20:38:00.000-05:00

I was going to dinner with L12 and McPoopiePants, but I couldn't find my keys. I asked SC to leave the door unlocked if she left while I was gone, but then McPP told me that they were still in my door...

What I'm trying to say is that the stupid day hasn't yet stopped. Hopefully it will soon. And now it's time to get drunk.

-G

You're A Gay Man Peppermint Patty!

2005-05-06T20:36:00.000-05:00

... and that was tonight's catch-phrase.

Goodnight everybody.
I love you.
SC

This is the stupidest day I've ever been in.

2005-05-04T22:44:00.000-05:00

Seriously. I have never been this stupid. Sober, at least. I woke up at 4 in the morning, and it took me two hours to get to the library (overdue paper...). Somewhat needless to say, I didn't start the paper until after lunch. This is normal stupidity for me, though. Another thing: I cannot walk without hitting something. I stand up and run into my door. I get up from my chair and trip over it. I try to move my foot in the fashion that some people call "walking," and I drag my foot up the back of my other leg. A heavy door almost hits me in the face before McPoopiePants catches it. I can't find things. Twice today I've looked for my ID, held people up because I couldn't find them, and then eventually found it... in my pocket.

I also cannot talk. I just. can't. Most of what I say comes out in complete gibberish, random words that make sense in my head, but otherwise... don't. McPP and I were eating at a pizza place, and I kept saying things really loudly about how Italians suck, because I have the maturity of a fetus. She went, "You are so off my buddy list!" (She had shown me this earlier today.) I responded with: "You can't kick me off yet because you can't have access to the internet here because this place is run by ITALIANS. They're technologically inferior. And brainully inferior." And I totally thought brainully was a real word when I said it.

Then I was trying to describe a movie to her and I said this gem of wisdom: "You know, where they steal the files and the guy acts all crazy... Investigations of the cockapees. [Pause] I Heart Huckabees."

What scared me, though, is that I do not remember saying anything at all after "investigations." I had to take her word for it.

I had to go to Student Services earlier to meet with someone, but she wasn't in her office, and a guy asked me if I needed help because he noticed me walking around really slowly. He told me she wasn't out of a meeting yet, and then asked if I played tennis. I was wearing a shirt from my eighth grade tennis team, but I didn't realize that and said no. I wasn't trying to lie, it's just that my homosexual brain turned that simple question into something completely wrong. He looks at me confusedly: "So you just wear the shirt?"

Me, looking down, then trying to pretend that I knew what he was talking about, but my long hiatus from tennis caused me to forget about it: Well, I have.

Him, excited: You should be on the team here!

Me, still scornful: I am.

Him: Oh...

Me, trying to explain but only realizing that I shouldn't talk to people in my condition: I thought you were asking, for special thing, if there was a thing, for the people... Never mind.

And I went and sat on a couch.

But wait, there's more! We were walking out of the pub (or "food-dining thingie," as I christened it earlier) with food and some bottles of Vitamin Water, and L12, carrying the water, called out "Hey Granny!" I turned around and she threw a bottle at me, thinking that one was mine. Only problem is, I was carrying things already. Oh yeah, and I'm stupid. So this flimsy plastic bottle is hurtling at me and I just step aside and glare at her. Meanwhile, my eye power doesn't stop the bottle from crashing into the floor and spilling all over the entrance to the food-dining thingie. We just walk away laughing (uncaring bitches!) and I manage, through my laughter, to choke out: "This is the stupidest day I've ever been in."

Which brings us full circle. There's more, but I'll save the sex stuff for my next post.

-G

SC Can Blog, Too!

2005-05-04T11:11:00.000-05:00

Since Granny has, presumeably, been doing her homework- I've decided to blog. Brace yourselves:

Greenpeace not-so green these days

Martha must have given imprisoned taggers a whole new perspective

annnnd your mom's a whore.

(Alright... the last one's not really a link... but she is a total whore, anyways.)

-SC

"Well.. if uh.. someone wants to lick my buttplug.. they'll uh, have to ah, sit this one out."

2005-05-02T23:04:00.000-05:00

Granny's better at blogging than I am. But I'm easier- *way* easier. Trade off? I like to think so.

Hearts, hugs, and road kill,
SC

Strap-On Sally

2005-05-02T22:44:00.000-05:00

SC starts playing a song that I don't recognize. It's just someone whistling with some accompanying music.

SC: I love this song.
G: What is it?
SC: It's from Kill Bill.
G: Ohh, now I know it.
SC: It's where she's whistling!

Thanks, Stupid Cunt. You're sooo helpful.

Oh, and we just watched [ALERT ALERT NASTY STUFF AHEAD AND I MEAN SERIOUSLY NASTY] lesbian porn where girls get fucked up the ass with dildos and then get the dildos shoved down their throats and are told to "Choke on it bitch! Now spit on it!" And then the girls all kiss, spreading that lovely ass taste to one and all. And then they spit on an asshole/vagina and repeat the process. Ewwwwwwwwwwwww. I'm scarred for life.

Guess where we watched it? In our school's film viewing room. Yeah. This was official. There were refreshments.

Scarred. Life.

-G

Seven Degrees of Swastika

2005-05-01T22:43:00.000-05:00

It's the craaazy new game that's taking the nation by storm! (And by nation, I mean our dorm room.)

Everyone knows Seven Degrees of Kevin Bacon, right? Well, this is played through Wikipedia links, with its article on swastikas substituted for Kevin Bacon. SC came up with the idea for it when she saw that "swastika" was the featured article on Wikipedia. She got all excited and told me to guess what the featured article is, and I got even more excited and said "Family Guy?" because FAMILY GUY IS AWESOME and FINALLY BACK. The first challenge was then connect FG to swastika, and everything after that is history. Recent history, but history nonetheless. Not important history, but history. Ok, it's in the past.

Not to brag, but I kick ass at this game. I am sooo good at procrastinating.

-G

[My own edit: I just realized that saying SC got all excited about swastikas makes it seem like she's a neo-Nazi or something. She's not, she's just strange.]

Have you heard about these new guys, the "Christians"? They're so poor that they only have ONE God!

2005-04-30T15:30:00.000-05:00

My first year of college ends in two weeks and I have an almost impossible load of work that I've put off, so what am I doing right now?

That's right, trying to think of a more original name than "Amazing Adventures of..." This is the only thing I've come up with: "Stupid Cunt and Granny: Double Teaming Your Mom Since 1842." (Like the beer posters, even though I don't like beer. Oh yeah, and even though we're female. BUT THAT'S WHY IT'S FUNNY, GET IT??) While writing that first sentence I thought of something like "SC+G/G+SC: Inducing/Invoking/Blaming Senioritis Since Freshman Year," but it would only be half-true. Stupid Cunt does her homework.

"Don't Hate Your Life, Just End It!" would be a good tagline for a suicide help hotline. I'm just saying.

I was eating lunch with a friend of mine who's Muslim, and who I interviewed last semester for a paper in my Islam class. Ever since then, almost every one-on-one conversation we've had includes some sort of talk about religion (I'm agnostic, my family's Jewish). At this lunch, the topic got around to Jesus as Son of God v. Jesus as non-divine prophet. Muslims believe in the virgin birth and all that, but don't believe Jesus is divine. I was pestering her, because I don't understand how that works, and I went, "But how could Jesus not be the son of God? Ok, so if God got Mary pregnant, and then Mary had Jesus, then she could be like 'God is my baby daddy,' right?"

She stared at me for about twenty seconds with really wide eyes, started laughing, and then said, "You're so going to hell, and I'm trying so hard to save you!"

Granny and Stupid Cunt: God Is Our Babies Daddy?

-G

[SC liked the double teaming thing, and so did our neighbor, so that's all the positive feedback I needed. Name: CHANGED! I just wet my pants in excitement.]

Learning about Cuba, and having some food.

2005-04-29T20:04:00.000-05:00

I have something to say about the unfair and biased stereotype of the college student as someone who doesn't go to class, doesn't do work, doesn't do anything besides lie around and do drugs, really, puts off doing laundry until she's literally out of clean underwear and has to resort to wearing a bathing suit around campus, spends half her time pleading with faculty to get an extension on homework, the housing lottery, etc, and steals as much free food as she can from various fooding establishments. If I'm any indication, this image is totally and completely untrue. Seriously. I don't do any of those things. I'm not wearing a tank top and jeans over a Speedo right now, eating dinner that I partially stole from the pub.

... Seriously.

Look, just nod and smile, ok?

-G

Insane in the membrane

2005-04-29T01:06:00.000-05:00

get the goat with the BEER. i hate beer, damn goat.

[Sorry about that, SC has gone INSAAAAAAANE.]

[Update: SC just read about her going insane and went: "That's not truuuuue Forrest... Hump." Then she made a few slurping noises. Take from that what you will.]

Crack... pimp?

2005-04-28T13:52:00.000-05:00

At dinner last night, the subject of crackwhores came up, and it got me to thinking. Hypothetically, if a pimp only pimped out crackwhores, should he be called a crackpimp? Do crackwhores even have pimps? Or does the whore exchange sex for drugs without any over-seer like a pimp keeping that bitch in line? These are the things that keep me up at night.

-G

Monster, monster, very small monster!

2005-04-28T11:07:00.000-05:00

Last night, as SC and I were getting into our respective beds, she reached over, grabbed a book, then turned to me and said, "Do you want to hear something really pretty... about rape?"

RAPIST RAPIST STUPID CUNT'S A RAPIST.

-G [This is a little unnecessary, isn't it...]

*SC's EDIT*

To be fair, I'm going to post the pretty thing about rape. It's a paragraph of Therese Raquin, by Zola. And it *IS* pretty.

"Then with a violent movement Laurent stooped, took the young woman, and held her against his breast. He pushed her head back, crushing her lips beneath his own. She made one wild instinctive effort to resist and then yielded, slipping down onto the floor. Not a single word was exchanged. The act was silent and brutal."

Pretty.

[You're sick. RAPIST! -G]

[SC again- Gran, I'm pretty sure I've only raped you. And that was just the once. So chizzill my jizzill.]

["Chizzill my jizzill"? You do realize that says "chill my jill," right? And that "chill my jill" is pretty much gibberish?

Thought: Wouldn't it be funny if it was just one person writing this whole blog, but she had a split personality? Not that that's going on here... -G]

So this one time... at JewCamp...

2005-04-27T20:27:00.000-05:00

Alright, I was in the library (right away, you can tell this is SC), wearing a kinda short skirt. And I was sitting at this desk, with my legs wide open, because they're in a desk, nobody can see, right? So I'm there for like an hour, and then I look up from my Number Theory text book, and I see that the wall across from me is actually glass, and I can see the people walking around the library across from me. I stoop down, feigning to get something out of my bag, and, sure enough, the wall directly across from my super-open legs is... glass.

Thank *GOD* I was wearing underwear that day.

Hugs and dead things,
SC

Out of all the ways to piss off porn surfers...

2005-04-27T18:40:00.000-05:00

I think that last post has gotta be up there with the best.

I'll suck your cock for a thousand dollars.

2005-04-26T20:18:00.000-05:00

Quick background to this lazy post: I am a girl. I have a wooden penis. Mahogany, in fact. My lover L12 (remember, short for L. 12) is also a girl. We have wild butt sex nearly every night. We also like talking dirty over the internet. Sure, she lives next door to me, but to communicate in person would involve walking, and we don't like any type of exertion that doesn't involve sex.

Defense: There are very few guys at our school. Someone's gotta have a penis around here.

Further background: I am the wittiest and subtlest person ever invented.

L12: :-( well i believed the sex ed videos
L12: and they were also lies
L12: they never taught me about ass sex
G: that's not a lie, just an omission
G: an unforgivable omission that I hope I have rectified
G: GET IT??
L12: yea... thats sort of like the my vagina is god, wanna touch god, get it
L12: tone down the rectal imagery and we're fine
L12: i might even suck your cock for money
G: mine was so much more slick
G: GET IT AGAIN???

Post part dos: At lunch the other day, our table was discussing how to make it romantic to ask a girl to go down on a guy. L12 didn't think it was possible for it to be romantic. One of the guys there begged to differ and said he spent all of his free time thinking about just that problem. She challenged him, and he came out with: "I wanna bust a nut in yo mouth. Make it possible!"

Can't beat that.

-G

I don't like hearing noises, especially when there ain't supposed to be any.

2005-04-24T15:40:00.000-05:00

Well, that was quick-I didn't even need to look for something stupid, SC gave it to me, just like she gave me herpes. (Kidding! I wore a condom.) Anyhoo, she turns around in her chair and goes "knock knock."
G: Who's there? [Pause] Shut up.
SC: Dammit, I almost had it!
G: Fine, who's there?
SC: Banana.
G: Banana who?
SC: Banana, banana, banana-orange you glad I didn't say banana?
G: You suck.

And from Halifax Live, which got the top spot on Google News for the mice hibernation story, comes a headline reminiscent of a bad B-movie horror flick:

"Scientists Force Mice Into Hibernation, Humans Could Be Next"? Oh, those silly, fear-mongering Canadiennes. (Halifax is in Canada, right? No? Whatever.)

-G

NOW Who doesn't blog enough, eh?

2005-04-24T13:41:00.000-05:00

SC again. Weird, I know- I don't know what Granny's been doing. She so crazy!

But I noticed she changed the sub-headling of our blog to "If Forest Gump can become famous for being an idiot, why can't we?" The answer is simple- the *two* of us cannot be *one* idiot. So that's why we're not famous.

Also, she told me the "blawg" means "law blog". As somebody who thinks it's annoying/cool to say "hawt", "gawd", "cawmments", and "like woah", I think that the definition of "blawg" as "law blog" sucks. No, it *BLOWS*. Whatever, I will continue to use the word "blawg" as long as I please, and it should be noted that I mean nothing by it.

Mmhm.

SC

SC's Back and I'm doing it and doing it and doing it well...

2005-04-23T17:17:00.000-05:00

So tomorrow's my friend's birthday. I'm gonna celebrate, even though we're not friends anymore.

***

Alright, you know, I've been sort of dancing around this subject for a while now, but I'm just gonna come right out and say it... My name is Stupid Cunt, and ....I can't say the word "statistics". I just can't!

There, I said it. Well, I pronounced it wrong... but I said it.

Pff- Granny's better at blawgs than me. (No, that wasn't her edit. I'm actually admitting it.)

SC

Rape time!

2005-04-23T16:06:00.000-05:00

Go here. Right now. And read every single comic. It's the funniest thing I've seen in a long time. Although if you don't like jokes about racism, homophobia, rape, pedophilia, domestic abuse, the mentally challenged, fatal illnesses, etc... Don't go.

In other news, SC is still a stupid cunt-now with more illiteracy!

-G

I will pee ALL over my pants, and THEN who's gonna end up looking bad?

2005-04-23T02:11:00.000-05:00

Guy Sans Nickname: The ducks are like, "This is my mom. This is what I need to have sex with."

I was a little high tonight and was trying to write down the lyrics to the song "My baby takes the morning traaaain." Didn't work so well.

Real version: My baby takes the morning train
He works from nine till five and then
He takes another home again
To find me waiting for him

What I came up with: My baby takes the morning train.
She takes it down and then again.
There are hookers outside the house again.
And barely waiting for you.

Yeah... You tried and failed miserably. The moral is: never try.

-G

"Kyle's Mom is a Stupid Bitch," in D-minor

2005-04-20T20:17:00.000-05:00

My new favorite joke: How do you turn your dishwasher into a snowblower?

Hand the bitch a shovel.

-G

At least she didn't say the stories would be entertaining

2005-04-18T11:04:00.000-05:00

Except for the old lady who couldn't get out of her bath. That was pretty awesome.

Anyways, since everyone loves a good old fashioned story about dumbfuck Britney, and since Michael Jackson is my close and personal friend, go read this. She's so crazy I... I think I love her. And the letters that she posts on her site? (Click the bubble that says "Love B.") Gold, baby, pure gold! I think I really need to post some of the things she's written, so I never forget. This is from her first "Letter to fans":

Being married is GREAT and I can't wait to start my family! There is so much change going on right now... not only with me, but in the world, as well. So, the next time you see my face, hear one of my songs or even if I'm the topic of your next conversation, please remember that times are changing & so am I.

Even if I'm the topic of your next conversation. Wow. Although I must say that it is very generous of her to acknowledge that there exists a larger, non-Britney world, albeit secondary to her.

And of course her latest one, which starts out like this:

Dear False Tabloids,

As you read this letter, I bet you are asking yourself: Who? Who, me? Am I a false tabloid? Well, I don't know.

I know it's called "stream of consciousness" but I would think that someone would look over what she's writing and go "Uh... B? You sound like a complete ass. Might want to work on that. Oh, and maybe wash your hair/face/clothing. I'm just trying to save you here."

Seriously though, you need to go read her letters in their entirety. They are heelaarious.

-G

He's actually a BROOM

2005-04-17T13:34:00.000-05:00

I can't figure out whether Arab Strap is Bright-Eyes-Light or Bright Eyes is Arab-Strap-Light. I think it's the latter.

Alright, well I haven't posted in a while, and all Granny does when she posts is WHINE, so maybe I'll do something to entertain you... *slowly moves to lift shirt*... *gets smacked by Granny, who said "Boobs aren't for the internet, you stupid cunt!"*

Oh, well, I guess I'll resort to linking you to pages that will waste your time.

Old people are stupid.

Money is expensive.

I'll steal *your* silo, baby...

Hearts and dead things,
SC

You told me I came out of your vagina!

2005-04-16T22:47:00.000-05:00

Does it count as procrastinating if under any other circumstances, you wouldn't be working in the first place? I'm aware that what I'm about to say/write will make me seem like a huge nerd, but fuck it. It's a Saturday night, and SC and L12 are at a dance. I decided not to go because 1) I would have to get dressed and 2) a dance with one straight guy for every 15-20 straight girls while I'm sober? Yeah, I'll pass. Since my only friends either live in my house or go home every weekend, there's nobody else to do anything with. So (SB Drunk, look away, it's too horrible!) I've been doing homework. And not just any homework. It's for a computer science course. The height of nerd-dom. To be fair, I'm dangerously close to not getting credit for this class because of all the work I haven't done and I got really fucked up last night and SC does homework all the time on the weekends and I hate this college in many ways and The End.

Of course, Endings are only Beginnings of Something Else Beautiful and Life-Affirming, Except for Death, Because, Well, It's Death. In this case, My Point. I finished one assignment about half and hour ago and then I started talking to friends online and playing Bounce Out (just what I need-a game that takes almost an hour to do just once).

So is that procrastinating or is any work I get done tonight like a bonus? I essentially never do homework Friday night-Sunday afternoon, so getting something done at all is a step up for me. Or down, depending on how you look at it.

-G

Postscript: Have you ever been drunk or... something and left idiotic comments on blogs that, while you read regularly, have never actually commented on before and so the people see these fucked up comments and now, if your own site url was automatically submitted with your most likely mispelled name, you can never comment again on those sites because the first impression you made was one of sheer dumbassedness? Whew, glad I don't do drugs.

Wow, that's what P.S. stands for, isn't it? Postscript. I put that as a joke, and then I realized that... Wait, so P.P.S. is like Post-postscript? How many people know about this?! Jesus, I feel like Chris finding out that there's a 5 AM.

Gravity bongs?

2005-04-15T00:12:00.000-05:00

Not so much. Keep it out of your rooms folks. Just gonna make a mess.

-G [I'm not doing so great with this whole post thing-my last title, forgetting to sign my name, posts like this one...]

JavaScript for Dummies

2005-04-14T18:06:00.000-05:00

Since SC has decided not to spin us a yarn, I will. Be warned, though-you won't care about what I'm about to write. I don't care anymore; this thing was basically just for us anyways.

Ok so, I used to have a huge thing against using lol or brb or anything like that when talking to someone online. I refused to use them, and I was able to keep this up for a few years. Then I started occasionally using the shorthand expressions, and then I started to rely on them more and more, all the while hating myself for what I was becoming. With my friends, I still made fun of people who wrote like complete dumbasses, and would mockingly say lol or brb out loud. But last night... I was talking to my friend on AIM and she said something funny, which made me laugh and then I actually said, OUT LOUD and TOTALLY SERIOUS, "lol." Jesus. Fucking. Dead. Babies. Just kill me now.

-G

[Um, I don't remember writing the title for this. It has nothing to do with anything. This whole "make up the last month of homework for my computer science class in two days" thing is really getting to me. I need a nap.]

Or what I like to call an opportunity-stake!

2005-04-12T01:34:00.000-05:00

Ok, I know everyone hates when people post about what searches brought people to their sites, but can I get an EWWW from the congregation on this one? Please? Thank you. "water spot after fuck grannies." In this context, it's probably bad that "fuck" is such an integral part of my vocabulary. And that I'm Granny while Stupid Cunt's nickname includes, oh lord say it with me now, "stupid." Which reminds me, tomorrow SC is going to spin us a tall tale. A good old-fashioned yarn, if you will. Don't put down your sea-faring church beverages! [Or do. It's entirely up to you.]

And while we're here... "amazing racist." Nice.

I'm tired. And you'd think SC's name would bring in more porn searches than mine, but nope. Just me so far! That's just the world in which we live, i.e., a gross and twisted one.

-G

He thinks I'm hot, he thinks I'm not

2005-04-05T15:09:00.000-05:00

I put myself on the famed and respected Hot or Not dot com late last night. And I feel a little dirty. I put on a picture that was kind of, well, whorish, from when SC and I decided, out of boredom, to... um... dress as whores and walk around campus. (It was fun-a security car kept following us.) I took my picture off a few minutes ago, after all of half a day. My hotness quotient wasn't bad (obviously-everyone loves a girl who rents out her vagina for ten cents), but it was too weird for me, even after I changed it to a more classy picture. And by "more classy," I of course mean that the price of my precious flower rose to two dollars.

What about you, random person who's just waiting for the required thirty seconds to be up? Ever subjected yourself to the scrutiny that is HoN? Ever gave people the opposite rating of what you really thought, just because you felt bad or thought they looked like assholes? I totally do that.

HAHA I'm kidding. You're not actually reading this.

-G

(Insert witty "Insert witty title here"-type-title here)

2005-04-04T03:23:00.000-05:00

Another mini-spaz story, because it's 4:30 in the morning, I have class in five hours, I never did my paper for this class that was due a month ago, and this is obviously the best time to be wasting my time and brain energy typing this story out. So over the summer I was calling up this girl from my future-college, who I had never met in person and barely knew otherwise, to try and finalize plans to see Interpol and the Cure in concert. She doesn't pick up so I start to leave a message. Note: I don't particularly like leaving messages even when I'm good friends with the person, and I HATE leaving messages on virtual strangers' phones. But I really really want to see this show and also meet this person so that I know somebody when I get there. So I leave a message. I know, I know, I'm so brave. Anyways, I get to the end of the message and leave my phone number so she can call me back. Except one problem: my mind chooses this moment to hide my home phone number from itself. I panic on the inside because who the hell forgets their phone number? And could there be a more embarrassing time to forget it? And why didn't I plan on giving her my cell number in the first place? End result:

"Hey X, this is Granny, just calling about the concert, I'm excited about it, I hope I'll be able to go, blah blah boring message-talk blah... So you can call me back at... (long pause while I commence freaking out on the inside) hold on a second... (my cell number because I just couldn't fucking remember my home number), haha-sorry-I-just-moved-and-don't-know-my-phone-number-that-well-yet, ok great I'll talk to you later then bye."

The "I just moved" excuse makes it better though, right? Not so terrible to forget a new number. And for this situation, yes, it helps a little, because she doesn't know that I moved to that house three years earlier. God knows, though. And now you do, too. And you're both judging me.

The concert never even happened. For me, I mean. She went, I couldn't, and we never talked again. Until. One of the first days at college, I see her walking around somewhere on campus, and I introduce myself, very quickly. She still seems nice, but we both have to go places, so the only result of this is that now she knows what I look like. Bad move. (Don't ask why I knew what she looked like and not vice versa.) Now it turns into that awkward situation where I don't know how to act when I pass her on the sidewalk a week or two later, because does she even remember me? Do I stop and say hi? Say it while walking? Smile? Smile like I do to any stranger? It's like I never left high school.

We both smile and sort of say hi, the first time. The next infinity times, I ignore her. Why? I'm retarded, that's why. And now of course she ignores me, too. And it's awwwkward when we'll pass each other in a tight space, because you really have to go out of your way to pretend you don't see the other person. Sometimes it would turn into just looking at each other blankly until we pass. And SC thinks she's socially awkward.

Did anyone's head hurt after reading the title of this post?

-G

I hate the word "chill"

2005-04-03T16:12:00.000-05:00

A lesson for life?

~SC

What are you interested in? Nothing. Me neither!

2005-04-01T11:07:00.001-05:00

Fun April Fool's Day plans! Except not so much. First I just want to describe what I'm wearing right now, so you can get a sense of the classiness that is my life. Pajama pants ripped up to one knee and an oversized, slightly stained Neverland Ranch t-shirt obtained by my parents at a party there last year. (Neverland, of course, is Michael Jackson's lifelong dream of eating brightly colored goop and battling ticking crocs come true at last. Yeah, that's right, we got the MJ hook-up. I believe the appropriate response among whipper-snappers today is "w00t"?) And this shirt is awe. some. The front is mostly plain, but the back has a huge picture of a little white boy sitting in a blue moon, sadly gazing into the emptiness below him. Well played, Mr. I-want-to-go-to-jail. Subtle.

Anyways, my parents are in town for business, and they decided to swing on over and have a little chat with the DEAN and then my don about my academic record, where they see blah blah not imporant. The freaking dean. Who I've never met. That's so xXxcore. (I don't actually know what xXxcore is, but I see lots of way-cool people on Myspace saying it. I heart posing sullenly against cold brick walls with sullenly torn fishnets and an unlit cig dangling from my thin, sullen lips.)

Oh, how is my academic record? Funny you should ask.

I have class in twenty minutes. I'm behind over two weeks in the homework for this class. I've used up all my allowable absences. I had a meeting with the teacher earlier in the week about how I need to get caught up and send her my stuff when it's ready, yadda yadda yadda I'M REALLY TIRED TODAY. I haven't done any work since that meeting. Instead I stayed up until 3:30 last night playing online Family Feud with SC. I decided to get some sleep and wake up around 7 so I could get something done before class. I woke up at 9 after much prodding from SC, and have been doing fuck-all since then. This is pretty much how I handle all of my classes, and one of these days, maybe today, I'm going to get in trouble for it. I'm planning on getting extremely fucked up tonight and forgetting all about this. If drugs don't solve my problems, there's always you-know-what.

-G

Wire

2005-03-28T18:14:00.000-05:00

It's 6:22 p.m., and Granny *isn't here*.

This is completely weird- we're usually such predictable people.

Weird.

[I apologize for the craptacular post SC has foisted upon our otherwise perfect and unfailingly entertaining blog. Nobody cares that I wasn't in our room. I would delete this post, but I like having as much proof as possible of SC's stupidity. -G]

[By the way, ignore my last post when comparing our intelligence...]

I don't know.

2005-03-27T16:50:00.000-05:00

So. Curbside check-in. I heart it. I'm a spaz about tipping, though, so after I tip someone I generally try to leave as fast as possible without embarrassing myself. After the guy at the airport this morning takes my bag and gives me directions to my terminal (not exactly needed, but nice all the less), I tip him and he goes "Thanks, have a nice flight." I spazzily reply "Thanks, you too." You. Too. To the guy working at the airport. In my defense, it's my automatic answer in cases like this, where you tip the pizza guy and he thanks you and says have a nice night. Whatever. So I turn away from him and realize what I just said, then throw back my head and laugh sort of deranged-ly. (I didn't sleep last night. Words are not my friend right now.)

-G

I really super a lot liked the ending

2005-03-25T01:28:00.000-05:00

Well, I've got something better than a dream. A funny story! So there!

So I was in the diner with my two friends. They're going out, so they're sitting across from me and doing there thing with the menu. The waiter comes over to take our orders, so naturally I panic, as I do in any/all social situations. I stare intently at the menu, hoping that I won't fuck up saying "Chicken Nuggets", and thankfully I do not. But I look across to my friend, the boy of the relationship, I'll call him Mopes, and Mopes is looking at me with this weird face on and he goes, "You have nice boobs," in one of those loud, fake voices, and I reply "Thank you," in the same sort of "EVERYTHING IS NORMAL" tone, and then he proceeds to order. Now, at this point, me and my friend (who's a girl) are just cracking the fuck up, because I mean, what the hell? that is too funny.
Mopes did it because the douche waiter was staring at my boobs. This I could have predicted- I was wearing this sundress that my body fits in just right, but my boobs have to kinda squeeze in, and a see-through-ish black shirt over that. And I got a new bra! So I was really content with the state of my boobs at that point.

Yeah, whatever.
~SC

Coupon: The Movie

2005-03-25T00:47:00.000-05:00

Since SC feels she can share her dreams, I will do the same. Except with my dreams, not hers. I don't know her dreams unless I read about them here. Just to be clear. Anyhoo-to start my long-ass dream, I'm sitting on a plane next to my older sister, and a flight attendant comes rushing over to us. The pilot just died, and she asks if I can fly the plane. I hesitate, and she looks at my sister-"Can she do it?" I snort disdainfully and go "Her? She's allergic." [Yes, allergic. To flying planes. Shut up.] I decide to take my chance at piloting, even though, you know, I have no fucking clue how I would actually do that, but by god I will NOT let my sister fly this goddamn plane instead of me.

So I go up to the cockpit, and now it's time to land the plane. I start flipping the plane around like I'm a Blue Angel or Blue Devil or whatever those acrobatic military flyers are called, even though, yes, this is a normal commercial airplane without the actual capacity to do these things. And instead of flipping it on purpose, I'm just fucking up. Somehow the plane lands fine after I freak out a little, everyone walks out unharmed into the subway station that I apparently flew the plane into, and I jubilantly meet up with part of my extended family. Well at least I assumed everyone was unharmed-I didn't really care enough to check in my dream. Now that I think about it, my sister sort of vanished from the dream at that point... Oh well.

Now I'm on a pier at a beach with my aunt, uncle, and cousins. [My dreams aren't to be bothered with normal transitions, bitch!] The water is gorgeous-a sparkling, clear blue that makes me want to go the beach right now just thinking about it. I see this huge fan of water racing across the top of water to the shore and ultimately disappearing when it hits the wall. [Yes, wall. At this point the beach is more of a canal/ocean mix than an actual beach.] I turn to my younger cousin all amazed at what I just saw, and I ask her if she saw that and if she knows what it was. She says something along the lines of "duh, you don't know that was from the sharks?" Now dream-me feels stupid. I look out at the water again and see a tall tube of water racing across the water towards the canal wall-I look into the water and lo and behold, there's a shark! I'm confused because earlier I saw a fan of water, not a tube, so hey, maybe it was something different, but I forget about it as I see shark after shark swim in front of us, all of them hauling a big-ass tube of water on top of their fins, all of them disappearing right before they hit the wall. It's pretty fucking awesome to watch. But then I'm not on the pier anymore, and here's where my dream turns into something out of an SC fantasy.

Phase 3: I'm walking on the beach, and I see my even younger cousin digging in the sand. She's digging a large hole, and it's either circular or rectangular-not important. A middle-aged man is next to her, and he's definitely digging a grave, with a cute little plastic beach shovel. I start talking to my cousin and then somehow I'm in the man's sand-grave. Nobody notices or cares about this, and I'm pretty calm about it myself. He carries on a conversation with my cousin while he piles sand on top of me, and even though the sand eventually fills the grave back up, I can hear what they're saying for a while and see everything he's doing the entire time. I don't remember what they were talking about-something mundane like the weather. The sand doesn't choke me or bother me at all-I just lie there, under pounds of see-through sand, watching this man's mouth move, until the dream ends.

Good dream? Eh? Eh? Come on, it has it all! Sublimated feelings of sibling rivalry! Overcoming adversity! Fear of death! Or acceptance of death! Or maybe just extreme laziness! Whatever! Planes flipping over and flying into subways! Sharks! Plastic shovels! Allergies!

I rule.

-G

You dirty, dirty, dirty Jew diary. Just kidding.

2005-03-22T22:32:00.000-05:00

At a family dinner tonight, my dad's side of the family started talking about this dog Meck that they had when my dad was in college. It's normal reminiscing, my aunt talking about curling up with him and listening to Billie Holiday, stuff like that, and then all of a sudden my dad said something that struck me as, well, strange.

Father Dearest: Racist Meck...
Granny (of SC and G): What?
Auntie Dearest: Oh yeah, he was racist.
G: The dog?
Grampa Dearest: He hated black men.
Auntie: Women too.
Grampa: Oh? I don't remember that.
Father: Yeah, he didn't like black men or women.
G: Jesus Christ.

A freaking racist dog. Is it wrong to find that hilarious? Because I do.

-G

He was his idol and now... he's a fallen potato

2005-03-22T21:42:00.000-05:00

Since I've been gone for oh-so-long, I'll tell a little story from St. Patty's Day. It does not involve alcohol, sadly. My friend, I'll call her Eli, came up and visited me, and we went to some random deli for lunch. As we're in line to pay behind another woman, this old guy, and I mean old, not just comparatively, comes out from the kitchen and goes "All you ladies look so lovely today. Would any of you be interested in going on a date with me? I'm trying to get laid."

Well, at least he's honest.

He keeps talking, and we sort of zone him out, but then he said something that I thought was awesome. "I'll take the redhead, because my wife's a redhead." Hee.

-G

That was joke gum. Now you're addicted to heroin.

2005-03-22T17:51:00.000-05:00

Jesus fucking old people. Know how on some cars, the rearview mirrors can be pushed into the car, if it needs to fit into a small space? And how when they're in, they're useless? Just go with me if you don't know what I'm talking about. Well, I'm driving around today and I see that the car in front of me has its mirrors still pushed in. And of course since where I live is overrun with the elderly, it's some old lady (maybe a man, you can't expect me to know everything, GOSH), but this old person is driving around completely oblivious to the fact that she can't check her blind spots. That scares me.

-G

D is for the fucked up dream I had last night.

2005-03-21T13:49:00.000-05:00

I had another one. This one involved; Angel (the TV series), a chick from myspace (not even my friend on myspace, somebody else's...), deviantART, SMK, SMK telling me about one of *his* dreams, being in a classroom that was actually like on that balcony in Macy's (right next to the down escalators. There weren't clothes, just learning.), the word "mysterious", the teacher describing a "strange mysterious man..." and me looking at SMK and him opening his eyes all excited like and mouthing the word "Angel!", suicide.

I heart dreams.

~SC

[You're weird, dude. Like whoa. -G]

[Heh-no clothes, just learning. Nice.]

Stupid Cunt had a dream...

2005-03-17T11:27:00.000-05:00

...for serious. Last night- I had this really weird dream and I wanted to tell you guys about it.

Dreamland: For some reason, in this dream, I decide it's a good idea to go out with this big, fat, ugly guy. He smells bad, and doesn't have any future plans of showering, but I go out with him, probably based on some stupid "but he's so sweet!" logic. So we're going out, and he's a virgin (obviously), but for some reason he's really uncomfortable about this. I don't know if he realized there was no way in hell I was going to touch his over-sized, smelly body, but whatever. So we're having this deep talk, and I only remember bits and pieces of it, but here are sme highlights (oh, and by "conversation", I mean his character's monologue.): "I'm on the walk-really-fast diet." "I did some thinking about how I haven't had sex with anyone, and I decided it doesn't matter, because I *feel* like I've gone out with people, and that's all that really matters." And at the last one he broke up with me, which leads me to think he was planning on using me to dispose of his virginity. Thank god he realized that the only thing that matters is *feeling* like you've had sex with people... And what does that even mean, really? Like... WHAT?!

Oh, and in the beginning of this dream- I walked over to my computer and the CrushOfMyLife (I'll just refer to him as StabMutilateKill, or SMK from now on) had send me IM's apologizing for not being able to hang out this weekend (true story) and one of the things he said was "I'm bummed" or "I'm so bummed" or something like that. This kid does not use the phrase "bummed", I will tell you that much. And no more. Because he's mine and you can't touch him *goes to look at pictures of his nipple on the internet*

Yeah, so now I'm glad nobody reads this blog, because so many people would recognize ^ that right away. As if he doesn't know already. Well, he doesn't know I have nipple-shots of him, but that's another story... one you're going to forget *right now*...

I've said too much already.
~SC

Something Stupid ... from the cunt.

2005-03-15T21:53:00.000-05:00

Granny and I have this little "arrangement"...

...no, it's not lesbian sex.
The deal is this: I don't play Bjork music if she doesn't play that musical-blasphemy shit some call "The Darkness".

She went home for spring break, and I'd just like to let her know...

I'm listening to Bjork! On REPEAT!

(And if you knew how many times I had to go back and correct the spelling of "repeat"... well, you'd be as sad as I am right now. *VERY* sad.)

[Ohmygod, you're listening to Bjork? In our ROOM? When I'm not there?!?! Wow, I feel totally oWn3d! -G]

[PS-Get yer hands off of my woman, motherfucker.]

[PPS-Look, it says peepee.] [... and then ess.]

Finally... it has happened...

2005-03-14T20:41:00.000-05:00

Man with 2 Penises Can't Get Any Loving...

"A German man, who persuaded doctors to give him a second penis, lost his wife after he showed her the result."

*BURNED*

~SC

My piano killed your grandmother in Las Vegas

2005-03-11T21:23:00.000-05:00

Ok, wow. I'm standing up to go shower, and SC's cell starts ringing. She stares, dumbfounded and unmoving, at the source of the noise, for a good twenty seconds until I have to shout "Your phone's ringing!" Because she's just THAT unfamiliar with having people call her. Bad. Ass.

-G

DOORk

2005-03-10T19:44:00.000-05:00

"I ruled you organic."

"You're such a door."
"I can't even respond to that."

"I'm going to do you all a favor and lock myself out."

*These are all things I said... 3 hours after taking two pills of NyQuil, without closing my eyes. That's right- I'm like a reptile- I don't have to blink.* [NyQuil-Big N, little y, HUGE fucking Q. And that's my contribution. You're welcome. -G]

~S.C.

I invented the question mark. Deal, bitch.

2005-03-08T22:42:00.000-05:00

G: I like my heads of state to have that essential ingredient: EVIL.

Tights are not pants

2005-03-08T22:32:00.000-05:00

SC: Oh my god, [L12] just signed off. Where did she go?
G: Calm down. She went into your vagina.
SC: Like the cars?
G: Like everything.

Granny, what were you doing in the library? You can't read!

2005-03-07T21:59:00.000-05:00

Smelly readers banned from library

...I believe this story speaks for itself. And the message is: People who smell can't read- so get out of the library you smelly little fucks.

[Seriously, though, this seems unfair to homeless people who can't shower and shit. (I'm kidding, of course. Homeless people can shit.) Then again, the market has determined that the homeless are worthless, and since markets are always right, that means we don't have to give a shit. Yay introductory economics class! -G]

[Also, this is Santa Barbara, where homeless people make like $50,000 a year. I wouldn't mind being homeless there and not able to use the library if I had enough money to buy the books.]

[Also, yes, I can't read anyways. I enjoy gazing wistfully at the covers and sighing all melancholy-ly]

Strangely Enough...

2005-03-07T21:46:00.000-05:00

Asains work later into the night than Americans.

Huh. I wonder if there would be a way to take into account *how* many hours after midnight the people are going to sleep. I. wonder.

[What do you mean? They say in the article that they also wake up earlier...]

[Also, you spelled Asian wrong. Dumbass.]

Inspired words, from a man who knows how to ski

2005-03-05T16:56:00.000-05:00

After finishing Better Off Dead:

G: How did they get into Dodgers stadium?
SC: That's the beauty of the cinema. And of the 80's!
G: The 80's?
SC: Now we have laws.

Nice

2005-03-05T04:16:00.000-05:00

Best Come-On *EVER*:

SC was talking to this guy, and she asked whether or not he'd go to her funeral, if she were to die. He said "Without question, but, if you were laid out in satin, I'd rather you be alive when I visit."

And *that*, boys and girls, is how you get in SC's pants.

[Um... SC? Why did you write this in the third person? I'm just... I'm just a little concerned. I'm sure you'll be fine. Don't worry.]

[Oh, and another way to get in SC's pants? Have a penis and be nearby. OOOOOH shut DOWN me you!]

{SC's edit: Well, I wanted to make sure they knew who it was. But I guess the fact that it was a dead-girl come-on would have sufficed. Hey- look at the time this was originally posted. Maybe that had something to do with it.}

Texans in drag=hot lap dances

2005-03-05T03:56:00.000-05:00

SC: No, no, it'd be funny.
G: Yeah, funny for YOU.
SC: Raises hand. [She didn't do this. She said it. Just so we're clear.]