Minnesota Nice? Fuck That.

Holy fucking shit, dudes! The decision has been made for me today. Today I become a fucking shut in. Seriously. Today I was verbally assaulted at the Holiday Station by a raving fucking lunatic in cargo shorts.

I was down to my last smoke, so I decided to stop at the Holiday station on my way home since I can get 2 packs of Parliment Lights for about a buck cheaper than at the YesMart. So, I park at one of the pumps, start to get out of my car and accidentally drop my cigarette. Well, I couldn't pick it up since it rolled under my car, so I just shrugged it off and started toward the door. Until I was stopped in my tracks by a gruff shout of "LADY! YOU JUST DROPPED THAT CIGARETTE AT THE PUMP!" And before I could call out that it was an accident, this overweight, heart-attack-waiting-to-happen, wannabe biker, piece of shit starts screaming at me that the station could blow up at any minute (completely false) and that I'm a dumb shit, etc. I was absolutely flummoxed. Seriously, even after I told him there was no need to swear at me in such a manner and that it was an accident, he continued to call me a dumb ass (good one).

So, I just turn on my heel, go inside, and buy my cigarettes. I told the two guys at the counter about how I was fucking scared of this dude and they say, "Oh, him, he's a regular, he won't hurt you." And I'm all like, "What is this, fucking Cheers?!?! He's fucking scary." So, as I'm handing my card over to pay, said douche lumbers in and decides he's not done teaching me a lesson and proceeds to yell at me all over again, call me a dumb shit at the top of his lungs, and that the world is not my ashtray (but apparently it's his buffet). Counter guys are fucking dumbstruck and I just want to get the hell out of there, pissed that my phone is dead so I can't call 911 on his ass.

So, I grab my receipt, thank him for his opinion of the intelligence of my ass, and get the hell out of there before he can follow me home and beat me like he probably beats his wife.

I cried all the way home and decided to not leave my house tonight.

Vampire Squirrels

While this is hardly an exciting or gossip-laden missive from my mom (she and I live for shit-talking), I thought it was a pretty cute response to a gardening question I was fielding for a co-worker:

        Me:
        Hey, My co-worker has a petite rose bush that's being attacked by squirrels.  Do you know of anything that she can spray on     it to keep them away?

        My Mom:
        …you can buy a powder that you mix with water or sprinkle by roses that repels squirrels-cayenne pepper in it so have to be     careful by covering eyes and hands..so you have to be vigilant as it washes away with the rain….actually, what really worked    for me back at the "projects" was planting garlic bulbs around the rose shrubs….several of them close to the rose…I was         surprised that this worked so well…made me think the    critters were really little vampires…good luck to her & happy   gardening!

        Love,
        mom

I can just imagine her giggling to herself about little vampire squirrels shrieking in terror and cowering behind their tiny black capes as they approached her rose bushes, fangs at the ready.

Anyway, if any of you gardeners out there are having an epic battle with squirrels, give this a try.  I'm curious if it works on Minnesota Vampire Squirrels.

Seek and Ye Shall Find...

So, since I'm kind of at a loss for something to write about (and I'm sure you're all sick of hearing me whine about boys), I thought I would comment on the various ways people happen upon my blog.

"romantic ear" on Google
Dude, don't stick it in there, she'll only get pissed off and give you a snowball.

"history of sexworld minneapolis" on Google
You see, it's this big building where they sell dildos and you can see a peep show. Not that complicated, really.

"fuck kitty kat" on Google
No, man, fuck you. Really. FUCK YOU!

"moving on after your crush rejects you" on Google
I find that obscene amounts of liquor and fucking some random guy helps a lot. But, hey, I'm 30 and still single, so what the fuck do I know?

"for lovers only st. louis" on Google
I thought there was only piles of ribs and riverboat casinos in St. Louis?

"'dave loomer'" on Google
Someone has a stalker!!!

"tits sweating" on Google
Wear breathable fabrics, lady!

"i'll probably die alone" on Google
Stop fucking reminding me, asshole!

"mom kitty sex site" on Google
Well, I'm no expert on bestiality, but you may want to watch out for the claws.

"the other side the show real wives porn debbie" on Google
Peanut butter liver snap.

"'sex on ecstacy'" on Google
I endorse it...wanna come over?

BOOBIES!

Today I went to the most depressing place on earth (Kohls) to buy some bras, since I've been wearing the same two for about 2 years. I hate shopping for bras. I hate shopping for bras more than I hate shopping for jeans. Let me tell you why.

It's not because I hate my body or because the lighting sucks or that they don't have cute styles in my size (C cups). It's because of those fucking paper tags on the straps. I have dermatagraphia (pressure hives) and tags of any sort cause big red welts and intense itching. And since I have to try on, oh, about 18 million bras to find 3 I like enough to shell out my hard earned scratch, my chest looks like I was cuddling a badger.

Seriously, this is why I often shop at Victoria's Secret, because they keep the paper tag bullshit to a minimum even though they charge astronomical prices for a bra that may only last for about 6 months.

Boobs are serious business people!

Stimulation

So, I should be getting my stimulus check from the gubment this week and I don't plan on pissing it away on the economy (although a clothing shopping spree is really fucking tempting).  I plan on stimulating my credit rating by paying down an old debt on a closed credit card in order to reduce the number of bills I'm paying.  It seems I'm always making a pact with myself to pay down my cards, but this is the first time in a long time that I'm actually seeing some progress.  Even though it seems fruitless, I've been paying at least $10 over my minimum payments in order to make some headway on the balances.  I'm one of those people that never really reads their bill and just pays the minimum (or rounds up to the nearest whole amount), until I noticed one day that only $1.50 of the minimum payment on my MasterCard was going to the principal.  Yeah, that was kind of a wake up call to the amount of money I've been pissing away on interest.  I don't think I'll ever be debt free (private college fucked that up) but I'm hoping to be down to 2 credit cards before I graduate with my MBA, which means I need to pay down one card a year, starting with the cards that have the smallest balances (I only have 4).

My next plan is to add up the minimum payments I had been making on those cards and putting them in savings in an effort to train myself to stop living paycheck to paycheck.  This will probably be a difficult plan for me to implement, since I've never really been much of a saver.

What are your plans for your rebate?

Ain't No Party Like a Lutefisk Sushi Party

This is what I was doing while boys weren't calling me to go out on dates:

MNSpeakers go for happy hour at a sushi restaurant that, in my opinion, will be closed in 6 months.


My sashimi dinner reminds me of what hell would look like...if hell is located in L.A. circa 1991:


Sing it with me: "Hold me closer, tiny iiicceee cream!"


Comic fun time!


When you're at an art gallery, you gotta make your own fun:


Brandi's sad about no free booze (aren't art openings supposed to have free hooch?).


Coco scolds us for mocking the artsy fartsies.


I saw you throw that beer bottle, Miss Thang. Always stirring up shit:


Who needs art gallery wine, when you can get $4 Old Style tallboys?


Why yes, you are a hairy douchebag!


Why yes, I think that is Herpes Simplex I!


Then we decided to all get REALLY drunk at Abysmal Chick's crib. Because, really, that's why she lives downtown.

White tank+Black bra = WHORE!!!! (Just kidding...)


Look deeeep into my eyes...then stick your tongue in my mouth!


Oliver's mad because we made him sit on the floor like a naughty little boy.


Hey look! Another picture of me!


AC watches as Brandi and I make out furiously...angry love, bitches, angry love.


And then I passed out on the floor and spent the rest of the weekend hung over and pissed off. Welcome to spring in Minnesota!

I'm Out of Ideas

I've never been so frustrated about my status as a single woman as I am right now. I just know what it is, but I can't seem to get past the first date. I really do think that I'm done with dating for a while now. I just can't take the build up and the inevitable let down.

Secrets Are Lies...

There are many perks to being an only child (getting mostly what you want, inheriting everything, extreme doting, a dad who will drive 400 miles to fix your car or wire you $150 to replace a tire); however, the major drawback is that said doting parents have trouble staying out of your business and being all judgy-pants over your decisions and perpetually think of you as "their baby".  What I affectionately term "over-protective neuroticism."  My parents are constantly worried that I'm drinking too much (apparently 2 light beers means I'm well on my way to alcoholism), that I'm driving drunk, that I'm smoking crack with my cousin (WTF?), that I'm going to get cancer, that I'm going to get toxoplasmosis from my cats, etc.  They've pretty much been this way since I was a teen.  Somehow my mom is convinced that I was a wild teenager, which I wasn't, I was very much an introvert.  The reason she thinks this is because I would never really tell them anything (perfectly normal) because I just wasn't up for the fucking lecture and/or fight.

ANYway, here's a list of some of the secrets (and outright lies) I've told my parents:
1.  I didn't tell them I was living with a boyfriend until 6 months after he moved in, and that was only because they were coming to visit and said boyfriend wouldn't hide his stuff.

2.  That I've never smoked pot.
3.  "I'm just holding those smokes for a friend."  BTW, if there are any teens reading this, this NEVER works.
4.  That 20 year old and I were "just friends."
5.  They still don't know about my bird tattoos.
6.  "Yes, I still believe in God."
7.  "No, I haven't gotten a new credit card since the fiasco in 2002 when you bailed me out with AMEX."
8.  "I have to let you go, my phone is dying."
9.  I never tell them about my sex life.  Actually, I hope they still think I'm a virgin.
10.  The number of cigarettes I smoke.
11.  That I got a speeding ticket in Mankato during a friend's wedding (this would drive my dad INSANE for some reason).

12.  The story about the college boyfriend that hit me (my dad would look terrible in orange).
13.  How much I drank in college and that my grades kind of tanked my junior year because of it.

Keep in mind, most of these omissions and lies were told AFTER I turned 18 and was out of the house.  Don't ask me why, it's an Only Child thing.