I'm Quietly Judging You

So that's what I get to swim in?

2008-06-23T22:23:00.002-04:00

My roommate and I were sitting on the couch one day most likely watching The Bachelorette or some shit, when she brought up that she went to one of my FAVORITE restaurants in the city. You may have heard of it if you leave in the state of New York and/or often visit the lovely (right) city of Syracuse--Dinosaur BBQ. Now, I don't even like BBQ but I would love to make sweet love to that Fried Green Tomato BLT they have on the menu (and then later spoon with some of their deviled eggs). A little background from the website:

In December 2004, Dinosaur Bar-B-Que opened in Harlem, NY. This location has contributed to the pioneering of a unique section of Harlem. Nestled under the grandiose Riverside Dr. bridge, this place possess the same charisma, style, and flavor of its upstate counterparts. Harlem Dinosaur has become a favorite destination for Manhattanites, locals, and everyone in the tri-state area.

What they don't tell you is that the "grandiose Riverside Dr. bridge is a fucking dump. Honestly, if you look at the worst parts of Manhattan, they're always near or underneath a bridge/overpass. But I suppose the ambiance of living under a highway gives the feeling of the biker bar the original in Syracuse possessed, so I go with it.

What the website also doesn't tell you is the restaurant is about 50 yards from the Hudson and about 1 mile up the river from where I will dive in at the beginning of my triathlon.

OK so back to my conversation with my roommate:

Her: Oh, I didn't tell you!
Me: What?
Her: I saw them pull a dead body out of the Hudson near Dinosaur BBQ.
Me: ...
Her: Really!
Me: WHAT?!
Her: Yeah, I was with [name redacted] when there was all this commotion and cop cars and ambulances rushing by us. [Name redacted] thought he saw a diver in the water cause he saw some dude's head behind a boat. Turns out it was some guy's body, not a diver, and I was about 20 ft from the cop as he took a giant hook and attempted to pull him out of the river.

My roommate then went on to describe the rigamortus claw the guy was sporting (she also demonstrated the position on her own hand) and also the grayish hue this guy had become from all that decomposition.

She told me that she attempted to find out who it was only to find out it was some unidentified black man in his late 20's. Yep! Black dude turned fucking gray. And I'm swimming in all his secretions. Thumbs up!

Note: In an attempt to find said dead person, I googled "body found in Hudson". Now I wish I didn't.

Jaysus

2008-06-13T17:07:00.006-04:00

Kinda weird to see a path where you walked along completely submerged.

The above three pictures are pics of the University of Iowa's Memorial Union. I ate at those table and chairs many times trying to "study" or just eating Pizza Hut breadsticks dipped with ranch with my friends (all charged to my Pops, of course).

I've seen pictures of floods many many times, but to see probably one of my favorite places in the world (that would be Iowa City) in such a condition is seriously disturbing.

UPDATE: One of my fellow commenters at BHGP (the best Hawkeye sports blog on the web), three and out the KOK story, left this link in my comment section a little bit ago. Cedar Rapids is maybe a 20 minute drive from Iowa City. I used to drive over that bridge on 380 on my way to school every year. I remember very vividly the entire city smells like rancid oats (Quaker Oats headquarters is there). This is all just weird and sad at the same time.

Denied...again.

2008-06-06T10:12:00.000-04:00

Dear Megan,
Thank you for applying to the ING New York City Marathon 2008. We're sorry to inform you that you were not selected in the random lottery drawing. Although we wish everyone could be accepted, we have to limit the size of the field to ensure the best experience for each of our runners.

We encourage you to consider running this year's marathon by applying for entry through one of our official charity partners such as Team for Kids or Fred's Team. Visit www.ingnycmarathon.org/about/charities.php to find out how you can take advantage of this opportunity to run while supporting a worthy cause.

For other great racing opportunities, you can join us at NYRR races almost every weekend in New York City. The NYC Half-Marathon Presented by NIKE is coming up on July 27 and if you're not yet entered, you still have the opportunity to fill one of a few remaining spots by running in support of a charity .

For details about other NYRR races, becoming a member, and other valuable programs this upcoming year, as we celebrate the 50th anniversary of NYRR, visit www.nyrr.org.

Thank you so much for your interest in the ING New York City Marathon. We invite you to apply next year for the ING New York City Marathon 2009, and we wish you a summer of healthy and gratifying running.

Sincerely,
Mary Wittenberg
President and CEO, New York Road RunnersRace Director, ING New York City Marathon

The Greatest Story About Gatesy

2008-06-03T22:08:00.002-04:00

I love that my best friend has a blog. She's been blogging since 2003. Did you know that? I think she might have invented blogs she has been blogging for so long. She had a blog before there was internet I think. She just used paper airplanes to get her message across.

Anyways.

Most of you know we've been friends for quite some time. Since 1998, to be exact. We're coming up on our 10 year anniversary this September (sweet fucking lord!) and in honor of that I am going to share one of my fondest memories of her, also starring yours truly.

I love college football. Perhaps my love of my Hawkeyes started way back when the first time I saw Tim Dwight return a punt for a touchdown, or maybe when one of my friends started screwing someone on the football team (both will remain nameless (no, it's not Gatesy)). Either way, I love everything about it.

One of the things I miss most though is tailgating. Sure, I can go to a bar here and order a cold one and enjoy the game, but there's just something special about being in Iowa City outside Kinnick Stadium in the fall.

Then there are the turkey legs.

There is some dude outside the stadium for every home game that sells giant turkey legs. I mean HUGE. Our senior year Homecoming (I think we were playing Michigan State), Megan and my other friends and I decided it would be a good idea to go tailgating for the game. My friend drove her '88 Cutlass Sierra (recognize!) and we danced on the roof to Soul Decision or some shit like that so hard we dented it. That's just how us Hawkeyes roll.

Maybe it was the booze, or maybe the football, or maybe my strong desire to put any kind of bone in my mouth, but I overcame my aversion to meat on the bone and bought a turkey leg. I took two bites out of the thing, realized that I hate eating meat off the bone (that's what she said?) and thought of the fastest way I could rid myself of this turkey leg.

Then she appeared in my site. My Gatesy girl. I knew what I had to do. She was standing about 15 feet from me when I took aim. I wound up and released the turkey leg at an astronomical speed and it smacked her right in the head. Bullseye.

I initially didn't own up to throwing it, but my maniacal laughter soon gave me away. The story have evolved into the stuff of legends. What started out as a simple stun from a turkey leg has turned into me launching a full turkey covered in bbq sauce so hard that it knocks her back in her chair, only to stand up with a face covered in sauce.

And to you, my sweet girl, I dedicate this song. I love you.

It was a run by fruiting!

2008-05-30T12:46:00.002-04:00

Kids are assholes. All of them. Don't come to me all, "but my kid is nice!" NO. Case in point:

I was biking in Central Park last weekend minding my own business when something rolled in front of my tire. I was biking by a baseball diamond so I assumed it was some kid hitting a major league pop-up foul ball. I heard something else behind me and saw the exact same yellow ball roll behind me.

I turned around and saw a group of kids standing there laughing. LAUGHING AT ME. I looked down to see what they threw, and it was an apple. A full apple. Not only were they trying to kill me, but these fucks wasted food. So I did what anyone would do, I turned around and biked after them.

I pointed at the THIRD apple that they threw at me that was lodged in my spokes and demanded one of the twats pick it out. They were all, "Why you getting so angry?" and I was all, "Cause you tried to kill me you fuck faces! Do you know how fast I was going?"

Granted, they could have killed me (again) as I was like a foot shorter than the shortest kid (they were about 15), but they were kind enough to only keep their attempts are murdering me restricted to throwing Golden Deliciouses my way.

I followed one of the kids for like 2 minutes (I was angry yo) yelling at him to take out the apple. Lucky for him it fell out on its own accord. I then waved down a cop car and everyone took off.

This one bitch had the audacity to approach me that I was yelling at the wrong kid and they were just "being immature". Well, fuck you too lady. I don't care who threw it. They were all in a group and no one stopped whoever threw it and in my mind that makes them all partly guilty.

I then wished I still had the apple to throw at her head.

What I did this weekend

2008-05-26T21:51:00.004-04:00

It started out simple enough. I left my apartment somewhere between the Lower East Side and the Financial District. There was a limo waiting for me as I left, and it was gorgeous. A late model Cadillac kind of limo. I then kindly asked the driver to leave his vehicle so I could take it for a spin.

I might not be the best driver, and as a result I crashed into a few street lights on my little joy ride. I also may have hit a few pedestrians as well, but there was little blood so I assumed everything was ok. I continued on my drive down to the South Street Seaport. I finally reached my destination, and got out of my limo. I may or may not have heard sirens in the distance, but all that didn't matter now.

I was going to steal a helicopter.

I walked on the helipad and ripped the pilot out of the driver's seat. He was sitting there waiting for someone. Maybe a high profile passenger like Donald Trump or Jay Leno, or maybe he was waiting for me. That all didn't matter now. I got in the pilot's seat and took off towards JFK.

I landed near taxing 747's and left my helicopter on the runway. I tried to steal a 747 by trying to cling to the wheel well, but the plane was too big. The sirens got louder, and I broke out into a run searching for a vehicle so I could make my escape. I found a luggage transport vehicle to drive, but the beast of a truck proved not worthy of a getaway car. Eventually I was shot along a grassy knoll near the Van Wyck.

I woke up again in my apartment. Was it all a bad dream? Maybe. I had a new mission though. My true mission.

I needed some poon.

I stole a nice bus this time. It proved to be very useful in driving over cement dividers and running stop lights. Finally I took a corner too hard and rolled the bus. There was a young gentleman in a convertible that tried to talk shit to me as I emereged unscathed from my metal box of death. I mean, he didn't even ask if I was ok. So I shot him. Point blank. I guess I must have hit his gas tank too cause the asshole caught on fire along with his car. That fucking showed him for talking smack to me.

Again, sirens.

I picked up the pace to my desired destination. Nothing was going to get in my way! Not even men on fire. Finally, I made it. I opened the door to air conditioning and the sweet smell of dirty pussy. I was home. I was in the strip club.

After being ushered to the back for a private lap dance (that's how I roll, yo), a nice young lady with brown hair and a hot pink thong began to dance. It wasn't enough though. I wanted more. So they brought out a blonde with a yellow thong and both of them girated on and around my erect penis. It was glorious.

After they were done, one of the ho's was all, "You're the greatest...blah blah blah" so I fucking clocked her. Right in the jaw. Bitch started to yell and was all, "why'd you hit me, asshole?" so I shot her. Doesn't she know who I am? This did not please the bouncers too much, and after a shootout in the main room, I died. But oh what a way to go.

Trilogies

2008-05-23T10:15:00.005-04:00

Frequent commenter JHC made a comment yesterday when the discussion of trilogies came up during my post about Indiana Jones. He made the comment that all first movies are the best. I immediately had to speak to him about this as I was horrified. The first movies the best? That couldn't be! You see, it's been my opinion for quite a while that the SECOND movie in the trilogy is always the best (and yes, I do realize some of these aren't trilogies anymore, but they were at the time so shove it). Friends have immediately declared I was on crack when I have stated my opinion. That may be so, but I still think I am right anyways. When I formulated my theory a lot of these movies were trilogies, so please don't point out there are more than 3 Die Hard's. At the time, the 3rd one was supposed to be the last but some people can't leave well enough alone. Without further ado:

Godfather Part 2 - I remember seeing the Godfather Part 1 for the first time when I was about 12. I had to cover my eyes during they dead horsey part, but everything else was fair game. I didn't really understand it at the time being that I didn't really understand the inner workings of the Italian mafia in New York City in the mid-century, but I did see it again when I was about 19 and loved every second of it. The one critique I had of it was that it glorified a lifestyle that exploited honest people and honest workers. The emphasis of the movie was on the relatable inner-workings of the Corleone family, and the impact of their relationships with everyone. The result of this made me sympathetic with murderers, and that didn't settle all that well with me.

Now cut to the Godfather 2. Here we meet Michael again at the height of his power. He has a family, and a wealthy empire built on casinos, deceit, you know, murder. He stopped at nothing to get there, sacrificing all that truly mattered in this world to get there. In this movie you don't see an all powerful crime lord, but rather just a man who hates who he is and ultimately ends up alone at the end for the choices he has made in his life. Intertwined with Michael's fall from success shots of Vito's rise to power showing us the differences in the man Vito was and the man Michael has become. These are my favorite scenes, not only in this movie, but in any movie.

Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers - Long before The Return of the King came out, I read that The Academy was waiting to give Jackson the Oscar for Best Direction until the final movie of the trilogy came out. I remember watching The Two Towers in the theater and being transfixed. Despite the epic battle scene in the 3rd, The Two Towers is the movie about war. I saw it 3 times in the theater--a compliment I only afforded to Jurassic Park when it came out. Everything about the battle scene was perfection. It's good vs. evil in its finest form. For every honest man or elf, there is an evil orc with a personality of its own. The shot of Gandolf coming over the hill at the end is my favorite scene in any movie ever. If you didn't get chills watching it, then you're just not human. Maybe you're an orc? OMG stop reading my blog!

Back to the Future - I can't even tell you how much I want a hoverboard. I'm not even lying. Everything about this movie was great. The self hydrating pizzas, the fashion choices (self drying coats, self shoe-lace tying sneakers, hypercolor hats), Cafe 80's (oh the irony!). It had everything Back to the Future had, but more fun props and I loved it for it. And I'm still waiting for hoverboard technology to come out.

Terminator 2 - This one I can't even imagine anyone arguing me with. It's by far the superior movie in terms of suspense and story line. It comes with a total mind fuck too which leaves you utterly depressed at the end. No matter how hard we try to change our future, we can't. It's a scary thought to be faces with not only our own mortality, but the possible extinction of the human race. I remember being so relieved when 1998 hit and it turned out the movie wasn't prophetic....or was it? dum Dum DUM. (ok, I know)

Die Hard 2 - Yippy Kay Yay...Motherfucker. 'Nuf said.

Empire Strikes Back - It's darker than Star Wars, but doesn't have the ewoks of Jedi, but it's still my favorite. We're introduced back to Luke and Co immediately as the story begins being that we no longer need the initial character development needed in the first movie. Star Wars was great, but a little too happy go lucky with little struggle if you ask me. I mean, the only one that dies is fucking Obi Wan and he was like Father Time anyways. The actors feel more at ease in this film and I can't even tell you how much I enjoy Han Solo in this movie. Jedi is my 2nd favorite, mainly because of the ewoks and the coupling up of Han and Leia, but it still doesn't compare to Empire.

Pirates of the Carribean: Dead Man's Chest - OK OK, this might not be everyone's favorite, but I remember sorta liking the first and not really understanding what was going on in the 3rd. The 2nd one was the only one that had me from beginning to end. None of these movies had great storylines, and really aren't my favorite movies to watch on TBS on a Sunday, but of the 3, I found Dead Man's Chest more entertaining, darker, and an even more lovable Jack Sparrow.

Look, I can go on all day about these movies, but I got shit to do, so I'm going to let the comment section take over. I do have some exceptions, like The Matrix and Indiana Jones, but for the most part I find my theory to hold true (please, I know what the definition of a theory is). Let's have at it.

Indy, I love you!

2008-05-22T14:09:00.002-04:00

For those of you living under a rock, there is a new Indiana Jones movie coming out. I'm not really sure what it's about as Shia LaBeyowolf has sworn that Lucas and Spielberg threatened to cut off his balls if any of the plot was revealed. I don't get what the big deal is anyways. We'll all still pay the money ($11 here in Manhattan) to go see it regardless of what the plot is. What I can tell you is it looks like Queen Elizabeth is a Commy and Harrison Ford is old. I'm not sure what Shia's roll in all this, but he looks surprisingly less Asian than Short Round, and I don't know how I feel about that.

Hopefully this new movie won't shake things up with this theory I have. It's not really a theory, but I firmly believe that all people like a different Indiana Jones movie. My least favorite was the Temple of Doom, mainly because after the first time I saw it, I fell asleep with my hand clutching my chest, scared my sister was going to somehow rip it from my chest cavity. Oh, and the fact that it was perfectly acceptable for Spielberg to stereotype and entire culture's cuisine into disgusting dishes. I have eaten Indian food many times before, but I never once had to swallow a live snake. Just sayin'.

My favorite, and this is quite controversial, was Last Crusade. I thought the chemistry and banter between Ford and Connery was great, but I thought the storyline was the best out of all three. I usually get puzzled looks when I inform that this is my favorite, but I don't fucking care. What can I say? He had me at Jesus Booby Traps.

I'm curious as to all of your favorites. I've only met one person who likes Temple of Doom, and she's gonna read this and say so, but I'd like to know everyone's thoughts. Discuss.

I did it!

2008-05-21T19:32:00.002-04:00

I just reached my fundraising goal. Thank you SO MUCH for everyone that donated and spread the word. I'll be thinking of all of you when I want to die!

Baby Meggie!

2008-05-15T16:06:00.001-04:00

Addiction

2008-05-13T01:08:00.006-04:00

Most of you are on Facebook and are well aware of the annoying applications that the random person you may have met out at a bar and added them as part of your Facebook friend group on your iPhone always seems to send out. Most of these I ignore. I don't care which Sex and the City character I am or which celebrity boyfriend I am destined to have (mine was Dane Cook. OK shut up) so most of the time I just delete them and go about my business trying to find out if all my old high school crushes have signed up yet.

Occasionally there comes an application that is so great, so pure of heart, it takes me in and does not let go. I have found one of those applications. And that application, that application is SCRAMBLE.

What is Scramble you ask? Scramble is Boggle basically. You attempt to form words in various non-linear combinations. Point values are higher for longer words, and all three-letter words (the minimum) is worth 3 points. You have 3 minutes per round to find as many words as you can on a 4 letter by 4 letter board, and the game consists of 5 rounds total.

Immediately I was sucked in. I was self-satisfied after I scored a 15 on my first game against Mr. Crimenotes, when he bitch slapped me right back with like a 50. And it didn't stop there. Both Flop and JHC have now been roped in as well, and we've spent our nights and workdays playing Scramble with each other--I would show you a picture of my Facebook page which is covered with updates as "Megan has started another game of Scramble! Megan beat her high score! Megan has no life!" but I have a reputation to protect. You know how it is.

Now, I'm a smart girl, but I come in 4th every time to these fools. Every. Time. It's infuriating. I'll get 15 on a board full of vowels and Crimenotes manages to get a 60 on that same board in the same round (I suggest you play to understand what I am talking about.) After another frustrating game where I came in 4th...

PlayerRound:	1	2	3	4	5
CrimeNotes (nudge)	35	65	91	59	56	306
JHC	31	44	60	53	28	216
dmbmeg (nudge)	31	37	54	48	32	202
Flop (nudge)	-	-	-	-	-	0

...the following conversation took place:

Scramble email: Crimenotes found the word 'Boomers' in your Scramble match!
Megan: I DON'T FUCKING CARE.
Crimenotes: Thanks for helping others cheat, Megan. You can always adjust your settings so you don't get Scramble e-mails. I'm just a simple man enjoying a word game and watching Indiana Jones trailers in between Grand Theft Auto games. I'm 31.
Flop: I found a seven-letter word and I didn't get an email like this. Dick.
Megan: I just don't get it.
Crimenotes: You're not being one with the board, the way I told you.
Megan: I hate Scramble.
Megan: WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?
Megan: SCRAMBLE SENSEI.
Crimenotes: Don't think about the board. Don't worry about it. Just stare at the letters and let the board absorb you.
Megan: Not even kidding, I have had the following words word in my scramble boards: cunt(s), boob(s), pee(s), fagot(s)
Megan: I don't want anything to absorb me!
Crimenotes: I apologize if this word offends people, because I don't ever use it, but "cunt" makes appearance on the board and is good for points.
Megan: I know. I'm saying I used the below words for points. Scramble encourages bigotry.
Flop: I've gotten cunt.
Megan: High 5!
Crimenotes: Remember that "fags" and "faggot" are British slang for cigarettes.
Megan: Coincidentally, this might be the first time ever Crimenotes gets excited to see "boobs"
Crimenotes: You felt up a pair of sweaty man-tits in a bar. You've been obsessed with and traumatized by boobs ever sense. Keep me out of your boobage/moobage problems and just enjoy the heavage.
Megan: Wait, is this like the force? Do you play scramble blindfolded?
Crimenotes: You can't play blindfolded. You need to see the letters. But like crossword puzzles, thinking too hard or getting frustrated will only fuck you up.
Flop: Fascism!
Megan:Well I suck at crosswords too. Give me Free Cell any day.
JHC: I like crosswords because the words ARE IN THE RIGHT FUCKING ORDER. You know, like OUR LANGUAGE! I HATE FUCKING SCRAMBLE.
Crimenotes: Nonsense. Both of you love Scramble. In one week you both racked up more points than I do in a month. Scramble blessed you.
Megan: Cause all we do is play each other in order to get better so we can beat you.
Megan: I'm smart! Scramble doesn't tell me my self worth!
JHC: It does me. If I had GTA4 I'd spend the rest of my night murdering hookers. I WILL SHOW THEM WHAT TIME IT IS!
Megan: I bet I would suck at murdering hookers too.
JHC: It's simple. You drive up, they get in, you kill. Quite unlike trying to make words out of iixooooiidxzq
JHC: ... and Crimenotes just scored 186 points out of those letters! WOO!!!!11
Megan: CRIMENOTES GOT A BINGO!*
CRIMENOTES GOT THE HIGHEST SCORE EVER
CRIMENOTES JUST MADE ALL OF YOU HIS BITCHES
JHC: CRIMENOTES SCORED 190!
CRIMENOTES TURNED WATER INTO WINE!
CRIMENOTES MAKES UP RANDOM 3 LETTER WORDS AND GETS POINTS FOR THEM!
CRIMENOTES KNOWS HOW TO MAKE THE CLOCK STOP IN SCRAMBLE!
CRIMENOTES IS 31!
Flop: CRIMENOTES TURNED PORRIDGE INTO BEEF SOUP
Megan: CRIMENOTES DISCOVERED THE MEANING OF LIFE IN THE SCRAMBLE BOARD.
Flop: CRIMENOTES' LACERATED HAND HEALED IN SIX HOURS!
CRIMENOTES WAS ABLE TO KICK HIS ADDICTION TO NICOTINE!
CRIMENOTES EARNED A FISHBISCUIT IN RECORD TIME!
A BIRD CALLED OUT CRIMENOTES' NAME, THEN CRAPPED ON JHC!
CRIMENOTES RAN OVER FLOP AND MEGAN ON THE BEACH IN A VAN HE FOUND IN THE WOODS!

* This is when you get most of the words on the board. It's nearly impossible as there are usually about 100 word combinations.

Sexy! Kinda.

2008-05-10T16:52:00.005-04:00

Hi there!

It's been a while, no? Well, the good news is I'm no longer in excruciating pain. Right? Right.

So my training is going not well. I missed an entire week of training because of my jackhole of an ear. I still haven't gone swimming, so I'm about 77% sure I'm still going to be floating in the Hudson when everyone else is finishing their race. Something great happened this week though. I got to pick my wetsuit out.

The options were either sleeved or sleeveless, and I also had the option to check if I had any of the following "sizing considerations": broad shoulders, long legs, long waisted, large chested.

I wanted to write them back at what constitutes "large chested" but thought that is something I should never write in an email ever. I left the box unchecked and am now hoping my ample, but not ginormous sized breasts will fit into the wetsuit. They're my flotation devices. I really don't want them that squished, you know?
This bitch goes all the way down to my ankles, so only my arms will be exposed to the water in the Hudson. I only hope I look as cool in my wetsuit as the guy in the above picture looks in his.

I'm totally wearing it every opportunity I can. No, I don't mean just swimming. I'm wearing this sucker out. Like out out. To the bars. I figure I can pair it with a nice pump and be good to go. What? Stop looking at me like that. This bitch costs me (ok Team in Training) $400 and is aiding in my alcohol-less spring. You best believe I'm getting my money's worth.

Mailing it in

2008-05-05T21:47:00.002-04:00

My triathlon training is not going so hot. Ask me why. No, go 'head. ASK ME.

I have Swimmer's Ear.

No, really.

My outer ear is infected from swimming, and I am in horrible pain. I have a pretty high tolerance as I didn't even shed a tear when my tonsils were fucking bleeding 2 years ago, but this? THIS SUCKS.

I can't close my mouth all the way as my jaw is all out of whack and not lining up. Every time I force it closed, my inner ear moves which sends a shooting pain down my body. Today I tried to step into a Slim Jim as a snack, and I almost passed out from pain.

I went to the doctor today and he was all "Oh" when he looked in my ear. He then began to dig around further WITH HIS INSTRUMENT OF TORTURE which almost brought me to tears. His only response was, "yeah, it's infected. You have a whole bunch of white fluid [I can only guess what this is] in your ear. I'm giving you drops."

So I'm in a horrible fucking mood, and it hurts to smile.

Happy 5th of May.

Topic of comment discussion: Slim Jim's: God's gift to humans or the Devil's tasty pitch fork? Discuss.

Happy Jimmy Shaker Day!

2008-04-29T22:10:00.002-04:00

You all remember Fiddles, right? Well Fiddles had the following status message up yesterday:
Wonders if tomorrow is Jimmy Shaker Day.

That's fine and all, but two things: 1) Who the fuck is Jimmy Shaker and 2) HE HAD THIS STATUS MESSAGE UP FOR LIKE 6 MONTHS. I mean, how much can one wonder if today is Jimmy Shaker Day or not?

So I took some action. Some passive aggressive action. I put up a status message that read: TODAY IS NOT JIMMY SHAKER DAY which in turn prompted Fiddles to put up a status message that declared tomorrow (that'd be today now) JIMMY SHAKER DAY.

Crimenotes and Flop rejoiced (ok Flop got annoyed), and today we celebrated Jimmy Shaker Day by doing absolutely nothing and denying each other group chat invites. He [Jimmy] would have been proud. Thanks, Jim.

Note: For those absolutely confused by this post, you're not alone. I'm not sure I get it either, but I can share this with you which won't help at all:

(but Lt. Dan, you ain't got no legs! How can you point that gun at me, Lt. Dan?!)

Surprise!

2008-04-25T15:49:00.000-04:00

Back when I was in college, I lived in a house with 6 other girls off campus. Frequently we found ourselves walking home drunk from the bars as we were too cheap to get a cab. We never walked home alone, but the walk was far so we frequently found ourselves peeing in bushes to relieve our bladders from the 12 beers we drank that night. One morning I woke up to two of my roommates discussing the previous night's antics. It was a clearly a night to remember.

My roommate Kate (yes, that one) and my roommate Miranda were taking their walk of shame when Kate found the need to relieve herself. Rather than going in the nearest bush, Kate had the brilliant idea to go use the bathroom in a random house. I suppose she was above squatting in the bushes.

The next morning Kate and Miranda were recounting their tale of breaking and entering to me. When I expressed my astonishment at Kate breaking in to a random house to use the bathroom while they were either asleep or away, she interrupts me to say, "Yeah well Miranda puked in their living room."

That's right folks! Imagine these poor folks awaking to all their toilet paper gone and a pile of puke in their living room the next morning. I only hope that someone there was black out drunk and woke up thinking that the puke was theirs and cleaned it up.

Wait, on second thought, that's still gross.

THESE ARE MY FRIENDS.

I am obviously uninspired

2008-04-21T22:24:00.003-04:00

I have had this blog for coming up on two years now. For about a year and a half I tried to write every day. I was going out anywhere between 3-5 nights a week which provided plenty of material for blog posts.

Sadly I've replaced going out with The Bachelor and triathlon training. I only try and go out one night a week to save some cash and when I do go out it usually involves nothing too exciting.

I think this blog hit it's peak last summer, and that makes me mildly sad, but still a little indifferent. I see new blogs, ~~better blogs~~, popping up all the time. It's the Circle of Blogs (oh sweet jesus I am sorry for typing that).

Stick around if you like, if you are the type who are going to be leaving anonymous comments about "this blog sucks now" please go now. I'm not quitting, but I no longer have the desire to post everyday. Sure, there might be some weeks when I do post every day, but more than likely that won't be the case.

I have a feeling this blog will (d)evolve back into an outlet for my friends to keep track of me and less a forum for the masses to peak in on my drunken antics. And I'm ok with that.

Anyways...thanks for reading.

No Love in an Elevator

2008-04-17T15:48:00.004-04:00

One thing I hate about New York City is the elevators. We have horrible elevators. They take a good 5 minutes to wait for sometimes. I know, 5 minutes might not seem like a lot for you guys, but for someone who leads a very busy life (I gots IMing to do at work, yo!), I need every minute I can get. Riding an elevator isn't just pushing a button and going. There is courtesy involved, and I now am placing the responsibility on myself to inform all of you how to ride an elevator properly.

Ladies first, gentlemen - Yes, I know you're an asshole, but ladies should always get on and off the elevator before you. I'm not one for the antiquated laws of unnecessary chivalry, but this is one that pisses me off. Any guy that gets off before me is an asshole. There, I said it.
Form a line - Too many times I have waited patiently for my elevator only to have some jackass with there Iced Decaf Triple Venti Soy 1 Pump Sugar Free Vanilla Latte (can you tell I used to work at Starbucks?) walk to the front of the line and get in first. Yes, I know there isn't a velvet rope, but it's common courtesy to let those who were there first board the elevator first. The best spots in the elevator are always the ones in the back anyways. You don't have to get out of the elevator to let anyone off ever!! This isn't the Titanic and there's enough room for everyone (most of the time), I know. But just do it. That brings me to my 3rd point...
If you do get on last, get out of the way when people on lower floors need to get off - Nothing irks me more when the elevator doors open and the people closest to them just stare blankly up at the floor number expecting the people behind them to leap frog over them to get off their floor. Don't worry, asshat, the elevator won't leave without you despite me furiously pressing the "close door" button to leave you behind.
No, there is not "room for one more" - I once was in a very crowded elevator as we stopped on every single floor on the way down (I can't even tell you how many times I have heard the, "this is the local elevator! Ha Ha Ha" when this happens). I was pretty sure we were filled to maximum capacity as this 300 lb brawd's fake Louis Vuitton was digging into my lower back. The doors open, and this guy, rather than just wait for the next elevator, literally pushed himself in. It was so cramped at this point that I'm pretty sure someone impregnated me. The best part was, the elevator stopped on the next floor and the same asshole was all, "SORRY NO MORE ROOM!" It was at that point when I thought about encouraging the people he denied to stand on his shoulders. Or maybe decapitation. Either one.
If you see the elevator doors closing, don't throw your arm to get on - Sometimes you're running really late only to see the elevator doors closing on you. It happens to everyone. Well, friend, there are two kinds of people in this world. There are the people who let the doors close because they understand if they wanted that elevator, they should not have been late. Then there are the people who would throw the head of their first born in there to stop the elevator from going up. You see, every time you throw your arm in there, you are delaying the people who are in the elevator. You also could be the 5th person to throw your arm in there. That means the person who waited patiently for 5 minutes for this elevator because she refused to throw her arm in the door (that'd be me), now has to wait another 5 minutes as the doors re-open and close for every person willing to sacrifice their appendages to get on a fucking elevator. I am actually thinking about writing my local government to possibly get razor sharp knives installed on every elevator door in this city. They'll learn real fast that way.
TAKE OFF YOUR BACKPACK
Turn down your ear phones - Dude, you're gonna go deaf. When I can hear every word to Mary J Blige circa 1998, it's time for you to turn down the volume and get some new tunes. I suggest Rick Astley. If you're gonna make me listen to your music, at least let it be something I enjoy, and who doesn't enjoy a good Rick Roll?
Take the fucking stairs, you fatass - There is a company in my building that works on the 3rd floor. I call them the "3rd Floor Fuckers". Every time I see someone come in and press that "3", I have to clench my teeth. How lazy are you? Take the fucking stairs. God created your bipedal legs. You know they're quite an efficient use of energy, right? Oh no, I forgot. You're the laziest sonofabitch I have ever seen in my life. And considering I see myself every day, that is saying something.

I want you all to study these very carefully. If not, you might see me in an elevator and I don't think you will appreciate the bitch-slap I'm gonna give to you if you don't follow my rules.

Coming next week....subway courtesy! GET PUMPED.

ohmygodohmygodohmygod

2008-04-16T16:43:00.002-04:00

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(yes, I know it is fake)

The Bachelor

2008-04-15T13:24:00.004-04:00

Not sure if all of you are aware, but I love The Bachelor. Like LOVE love. I stopped watching after season 3 for some reason or another, but I'm pretty sure it was mostly cause I was drunk from like 2002-2007 and just blacked out.

I've again returned to watching, and let me tell you, it's fucking AWESOME. Let me share with you some observations:

The Bachelor says "I can see myself falling in love with you." This would be fine and "romantic" and all, but he literally says this to every single girl. Most of these girls aren't as savvy as us New York ladies as we hear "Daayum, baby. I'd love you LONG time!" just walking down the street (usually from parking attendents, alcoholic bar patrons smoking outside, and of course, construction workers. The difference with these girls who hail from cities like Littleton, CO and Holland, MI, is that they actually believe him. I can honestly say I've thought "I could fall in love with this person" once, maybe twice in my lifetime. But hand a pretty boy with no personality 25 roses, and suddenly he's in love more than Cher.

Every rose ceremony is "the most dramatic rose ceremony....EVER." Look, unless I see those bitches spittin' on each other, a la Flavor of Love or getting beejes in the bathroom a la Paradise Hotel, no one rose ceremony is more dramatic than the next. It's pretty formulaic. Boy gets rid of minorities first (can't bring them home to mom and dad....ick!), boy goes on one-on-one dates with blond Account Executives, Fashion Merchandisers, Real Estate Agents etc etc etc., girls look nervous throughout rose ceremony as their eyes well up with tears watching the women that "aren't there for him" get THEIR rose, and then proceed to get booted out the door as the tears really start flowing and they wonder about their "special connection" that the Bachelor claimed they shared. Asshole!

If I went on this show, I'd be the one who gets drunk. First off, I'd be condescending as all hell which would not go over with my potential Prince Charming. I need sarcasm, sports, beer, and getting felt up in the bathroom NOT BCBG dresses, strappy sandals, perfectly coifed hair with highlights, french manicures, "romance", champagne, and a guy prettier than I am. I would then proceed to drink the champagne, however, because "alcohol is alcohol" where I'd get in a fight with the token black chick about how "real I am", hit on Chris during the Rose Ceremony, throw my drink down at the Bachelor's feet when I don't get a rose, throw my arms up in the air and shout, "WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO", run outside, pass out in the bushes where there would be a single shot of my bare foot as the show fades to commercial. I would remain there til morning when the producers had to tell me "it's time for me to go" and roll my suitcase (filled only with Hawkeye sweatshirts and Chuck Taylors) right next to me.

The dates are the stupidest things I have ever seen. No one does shit like that. Last night I witnessed a date where the Bachelor and his lady ate chocolate covered strawberries in candlelight on a rug (I'm only assuming it was bear skin). The only time I have ever ate anything on the ground is because I passed out there and I needed sustenance from the leftover crumbs from the pizza I shoved into my mouth at 3am the previous night. Plus fruit and chocolate is gross.

All I ever want the women to do is fight. There is nothing better in the whole world. The cattier, the better.

Watching people kiss on that show is more nauseating to me than Two Girls-One Cup.

Why would anyone go on this show? I think the record for "love found on a reality show" might be like 1-50, the one being Trista and Ryan (I am ashamed to know this). People need to do what I do, and just find love in a bar. With their beer, that is. Not a guy. And maybe play some Nudie Touch cause that shit is fu-uunnnn.

Despite all this, I can't stop watching. It's a beautiful train wreck in which no one dies. They all just cry. And eat chocolate covered strawberries.

Presents!

2008-04-10T00:01:00.002-04:00

Recently I sent a package to a friend with an upcoming birthday. My one condition about receiving said gifts was to be that they wait for me to open the presents. I just like hearing and/or seeing people's reactions. It makes me happy.

The problem was, I had a meeting at 9:30 am and the packages arrived at this person's house early in the am. I assured the recipient that I would be back by noon, and to wait for me. Upon returning to my desk at 11:50 am, I was greeted with the series of following emails from the recipient which I had to re-read about 3 times to eventually stop laughing.

Enjoy.

from: [name redacted]

to: Megan

date: Tue, Apr 8, 2008 at 10:56 AM
subject: Greetings

Dearest Megan,

As the sun rises in the sky, so does my desire to unsheathe my gifts. Doth thou not knowest my thirst?

Regards,
[name redacted]

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from: [name redacted]

to: Megan

date: Tue, Apr 8, 2008 at 11:02 AM
subject: Hello!

Dearest Megan,

It's causing me significant distress to honor my presental agreement with you. I feel if I were to unmask one of the three strangers that were delivered unto me, I'd find the ability to breath more easily. Curiosity killed the cat, but to be honest, he deserved it.
I do not.
Your meeting needs to end now so I can free these parcels from their parchment prisons.

In Great Pain,
[name redacted]

------------------------------------------------------------------------

to: Megan

date: Tue, Apr 8, 2008 at 11:08 AM
subject: Hi

Dearest Megan,

After much thought, I've determined that my previous correspondence may have been slightly intemperate. Desire and patience make strange bedfellows, and I fear I let desire rule the roost for just a bit. I've regained control of my emotions and would like to sincerely apologize for my previous note.
Thank you.

Gratefully,
[name redacted]

----------------------------------------------------------------------

from: [name redacted]

to: Megan

date: Tue, Apr 8, 2008 at 11:14 AM
subject: Clarification

Dearest Megan,

It's with regret that I'm penning this note, for I've made an error and must now accept responsibility for it. In my apology note, I was not clear, I fear, so I would like to re-apologize here. In my previous note (the third in the series of three) I was apologizing for the brevity with which I spoke of your package in my second note. I wasn't talking about my first note in the third note. I see now I was not clear in my first apology note (the third note in the series, i.e. the note previous to this one). Just wanted to clear that up.
You will not hear from me again (by post) on this matter.
Thank you.

Filled With Shame,
[name redacted]

-------------------------------------------------------------------

from: [name redacted]

to: Megan

date: Tue, Apr 8, 2008 at 11:22 AM
subject: One More Thing

Dearest Megan,

Thanks for the packages. I'm happy to wait as long as it takes for you to get out of your meeting. I'm just grateful to have gifts at all, so no matter how many hours you're in your meeting, it's no problem. I really don't mind that you're in some meeting going on and on and on and on and on about LY and YTD and SSG and the like. I'm like more patient than anyone. I mean, just the other day, someone yelled "Hey, Job!" and I looked, because I thought they were talking to me. They weren't. Also, they were yelling "Hey, Jew!" and there was this huge race war right there in the bread aisle at the supermarket. There was rye bread and blood everywhere! It was crazy, crazy stuff. Anyway, I'll wait all day (and it appears I'll have to) if necessary. Yup. I'll just sit here and wait. No big!
Job's got nothin on me!

Patiently Waiting,
[name redacted]

---------------------------------------------------------------------

from: [name redacted]

to: Megan

date: Tue, Apr 8, 2008 at 11:29 AM
subject: WHY?

Dearest Megan,

I know you're there. You're just sitting there eating a sushi sub, drinking a Coke Zero, and reading Defamer while I'm here crying my eyes out.
Why have you forsaken me?

Bleak Future Gazing,
[name redacted]

---------------------------------------------------------------------

from: [name redacted]

to: Megan

date: Tue, Apr 8, 2008 at 11:31 AM
subject: !!!!!!!!!

Dearest Megan,

Hmmmph!

No Longer On Speaking Terms,
[name redacted]

----------------------------------------------------------------------

from: [name redacted]

to: Megan

date: Tue, Apr 8, 2008 at 11:33 AM
subject: Nice Try

Dearest Megan,

You think you can break me? HA! HA HA! HA! Never! I can do this all day. Waiting? This is fun! I'm having a fucking blast here, so if you think you got me, you're sorely mistaken. [twirls in a circle doing jazz hands] See that? Light as a feather!
Call me AD (that means All Day)!!!
WOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!

Doing Time Like It's My Job,
[name redacted]

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

from: [name redacted]

to: Megan

date: Tue, Apr 8, 2008 at 11:36 AM
subject: So

Dearest Megan,

I DON'T KNOW WHAT'S TAKING SO LONG AND I WANNA LOOK AT MY STUFF! WHAT THE HELL KINDA MEETING TAKES 7 HOURS ON A TUESDAY MORNING ANYWAY? NOT COOL!!!
WANTMYPRESENTSNOWKTHXBAI!!!

Seething,
[name redacted]

----------------------------------------------------------------------

from: [name redacted]

to: Megan

date: Tue, Apr 8, 2008 at 11:46 AM

subject: So

Dearest Megan,

I NEED them! I need these presents! I have to open them! I'm so excited! I'm so excited! I'm so... scared.

Filled With Pills,
[name redacted]

-------------------------------------------------------------------

from: Megan

to: [name redacted]

date: Tue, Apr 8, 2008 at 11:52 AM
subject: Re: So

oh, dear.

We are family

2008-04-09T12:17:00.005-04:00

I have something to admit. Some of you may know that may parents grew up in Brooklyn. In fact, they lived right down the street from each other. During the 70's there was a mass exodus of my family which resulted in family in California, Texas, Atlanta, Chicago, Virginia, Connecticut....basically all over.

What I wasn't aware of what that my dad had a couple relatives that were left behind. And they lived in Staten Island.

dum Dum DUM.

When my dad arrived on Friday for a quick visit in NYC for the weekend, he informed me that he was going to see said cousin(s) on Sunday and asked if I wanted to go. Of course I didn't. I can talk to anyone in a bar, or any peer (pier!) of mine, but throw me in someone else's house who is 50 years older than me, and I clam up. I'd rather have my fingernails pulls out one by one then spend the day with old people.

So I did what any non-confrontational person would do in my position--I let my dad decide. Now, occasionally in a blue moon, he'll see that I don't want to do something and just let me be, but this time upon asking if he wanted me to go, he simply shrugged and said, "Sure!" Looking back, I don't think it was so much as him wanting me to meet his relatives, but rather him not wanting to be alone with them for hours.

So off we went...to Staten Island. And we wouldn't even be able to hit any clubs. Dammit!
We crossed the Verrazano Bridge into Staten Island around 2:30 pm. I was greeted with a tanning booth on every corner, along with gas stations. Lots and lots of gas stations. For about 3 miles we were behind a car with specialized license plates that said, "MikeMissU" surrounded by a plate frame what had the kid's DOB and DOD on it along with the phrase, "Our angel in Heaven. Always looking out for us. Always and forever" or some shit like that. If that wasn't enough of a tribute, they had a bumper sticker of the kid's face on the window again with his DOB and DOD in case we forgot. And of course the kid was wearing a homey hat in the picture.

So eventually we depart from Mikey's family and arrive at my dad's cousin's house. Prior to our arrival, my dad informed me that his cousin was 71, and has a son that "may or may not" have been in a car accident. Uh....ok....

We ring the doorbell, and there is a short (shorter than me), rather round (to say it nicely), bald (bald as my dad and that is saying something) around the age of 40-45 blankly staring back at us. My dad was confused for a second, thinking it was his actual cousin until his actual cousin screamed at the back of the house. Turns out the gentleman that opened the door was my dad's cousin's son. Or my 2nd cousin. And he didn't take his eyes off of me.

When he finally spoke 3 minutes after I entered the door and introduced myself, his words were, "My you're a pretty girl." And then I knew what kinda day this was gonna be.

Turns out my dad's cousin was kinda awesome. And so was his wife. We had some big Italian home cooked dinner which was delicious, which was only spoiled by the fact my 2nd cousin would only talk to me the entire meal. But it wasn't actual conversations. He would interrupt his father's discussion about he and my dad's childhood to pepper me with questions like:

Where do you live, Megan?
Do you have a cell phone, Megan?
Have you ever been to this theater, Megan?
What kind of music do you like, Megan?
What's your favorite movie, Megan?

In between courses of dinner, 2nd cousin went to get his gee-tar. When I told him I liked classic rock (shutup), he immediately got out his guitar to play "Here Comes the Sun" for "everyone". When he was done, we'd all politely clap and he would bow his head graciously, hold up his hand, and mutter thank you--and then look at me.

This went on all night and I was increasingly getting uncomfortable. I thought maybe he was just nice, and I was being paranoid, but when I went to leave, he asked me what I was doing this weekend and told me he would be right in my neighborhood. I told him that was awesome, and that I have friends in town so enjoy my neighborhood alone (that's actually the truth, Hellafied is coming!). He kept on inching towards me getting closer and closer. Then, his father had to say, "OK [name redacted], that's enough." And then we left.

As soon as we got in the car, my dad said "Wow, I think he liked you."

Yeah, no shit Dad! He went on stating he has never witnessed a guy fawning over his youngest like that, to which I had to remind him THAT HE WAS MY FUCKING COUSIN.

His only response was a chuckle as he told me thruogh the laughter, "I can't wait til your sisters hear about this. He might not get girls like you coming his way very often."

Fucking great.

Come to mama...

2008-04-03T12:46:00.003-04:00

[exasperated sigh]

Oh, and JHC...Donnie ISN'T WEARING A TRENCH COAT .

A riddle

2008-04-02T16:11:00.002-04:00

Last weekend I left for Chicago for a family emergency. It was good to see my girl (s) and all, but it just wasn't a fun trip.

However, there was one highlight that I need to share with everyone. For those of you who are keeping score at home, I live in New York. A city that isn't stranger to bad neighborhoods. Now, that being said, I've never felt scared walking around a "bad" neighborhood as long as there are people around. I've walked through East Harlem at night and stood at Yankee Stadium in the South Bronx waiting to be picked up in January. I would say I have been sheltered, but I am fully aware of what a bad neighborhood looks like. Hell, I've driven through Gary, Indiana. If that isn't considered a war zone, then I don't know what is.

Now back to my trip to Chicago. I had to take the commuter train from the financial district of Chicago to the Southside. My aunt lives in a gorgeous neighborhood of Chicago filled with homes of judges and policemen. It was gorgeous. However, in order to get to my aunt's neighborhood my train traveled through some...um, not nice neighborhoods.

As I mentioned before, I don't get that shocked by poverty anymore, but the site of all those condemned houses with rickety porches was even too much for me to look at. Almost. For the most part, a lot of New York's bad neighborhoods actually used to be the residences of very wealthy people. When the neighborhood(s started to turn bad, those houses were split up into apartments, etc etc so while the insides rotted with poverty, the outside of these buildings remained relatively intact. Even the projects look solid from the outside.

So I'm cruising by all these houses in a neighborhood of what I think is Cabrini Green (? help me out people) studying each building trying to imagine the story behind it (It's a crack house! A brothel! It's Britney Spears' new vacation home!) when I past the strangest site I have ever seen.

There was some broken down house, barely standing on its foundation, and in it's backyard was ...a speed boat. Yep. It just lying on its side on the ground just hanging out. In a fenced in yard.

Now I don't know about you, but I've been in several boats in my day, and I know they are impossible to move around without the help of a trailer to tow it. So how did this homeowner, obviously someone of limited means from the appearance of his or her house, get the boat in their FENCED IN BACK YARD. Did they build the efnce after to prevent someone from stealing their beloved speed boat? Was there a flood in Chicago I wasn't aware of?

This is a riddle I would like answered. Your suggestions, please.

OK IT WAS A JOKE

2008-04-01T12:12:00.000-04:00

happy?!

The end.

2008-04-01T09:46:00.002-04:00

So I have been thinking a lot lately. I started this blog as a way to pass time at a boring job. As time passed, more and more people started to read. More than I could ever imagine. I told myself that the minute things weren't fun anymore, I would quit.

And you know what? It's just not that fun anymore.

That's right folks. I'm quitting my blog. It's just become more of a burden than anything else. I try not to blog at work, and because of that, I kill my brain every night trying to come up with creative blog posts. My life has devolved into not a life, but bits and pieces of material for a blog. And you know what? I'm tired of it. I don't even get paid for this.

I've had stalkers, horrible comments, demeaning emails, and hurt friends along the way. It's just not worth it, you know?

So, with this, I bid you adieu, dear reader. God speed, my friends. God speed.