Amigos: Why I Love to Go to Rodeo

Rodeo is one of the most fun places to go when you are trashed. Yes, the men are on the short side. Yes, they will hit on you even if their wife is standing next to them (Most of the time, the wifey doesn’t understand English, so cheating dog husband feels free to say whatever he wants). Yes, it is a little on the seedy side, but that’s why I love it.

Why do I love Rodeo? Because I like to dance to sonideros. I love Rodeo because I can go in there with no money and come out drunk as a skunk because Mexican men get offended if you won’t let them buy you a drink (The same men get offended if you offer to buy them a drink because a real man doesn’t take money from a woman). I love Rodeo because people wear the most MESSED up fashions, so you always have someone to make fun of, and there is always some drama going on for you to ooh and aah over.

Main reason why I love Rodeo? My friends are insanely fun. Or crazy. It’s open to interpretation.

In my defense, I was really, really wasted and thought I was holding the camera upright.

State of the union: Happy
Listening to: Down – Rakim y Ken-Y

Edited: June 1st, 2009

Amigos: Modern Day Cowboy

My friend, Colleen, sent this to me.

A modern day cowboy has spent many days crossing the Texas plains without water. His horse has already died of thirst. He’s crawling through the sand, certain that he has breathed his last breath, when all of a sudden he sees an object sticking out of the sand several yards ahead of him…..

He crawls to the object, pulls it out of the sand, and discovers what looks to be an old briefcase. He opens it and out pops a genie. But this is no ordinary genie. She is wearing a FEMA (Federal Emergency Management Agency) ID badge and a dull gray dress.There’s a calculator in her pocketbook. She has a pencil tucked behind one ear.

‘Well, cowboy,’ says the genie.. ‘You know how I work….You have three wishes.’
‘I’m not falling for this,’ said the cowboy… ‘I’m not going trust a FEMA genie…’
‘What do you have to lose? You’ve got no transportation, and it looks like you’re a goner anyway!’
The cowboy thinks about this for a minute, and decides that the genie is right.
‘OK!, I wish I were in a lush oasis with plenty of food and drink.’
***POOF***
The cowboy finds himself in the most beautiful oasis he has ever seen, and he is surrounded with jugs of wine and platters of delicacies.
‘OK, cowpoke, what’s your second wish?’
‘My second wish is that I was rich beyond my wildest dreams.’
***POOF***
The cowboy finds himself surrounded by treasure chests filled with rare gold coins and precious gems.
‘OK, cowpuncher, you have just one more wish. Better make it a good one!’
After thinking for a few minutes, the cowboy says…… ‘I wish that no matter where I go, beautiful women will want and need me..’
***POOF***
He was turned into a tampon..

The moral of the story: If the government offers to help you,there’s going to be a string attached.

State of the Union: Actually thinking about the moral. How sad.
Listening to: Naked Eyes by the Stephen Clay Experience (Slade, you know where that comes from, right?)

Edited: June 1st, 2009

Amigos: Friday Night Drunkery

I was a grade A lush this weekend. I don’t know how my liver is still functioning. There’s nothing like being up until three in the morning, drunk off your ass on champagne, messing with guy’s emotions on Craig’s List. My head hurt so bad the next day, but it was worth it. Anywho, I probably shouldn’t put this up, but I *have* to. On Friday, my friend and I were trying to outdo each other with gross pics from casual encounters: I’m talking small penises, women with junk everywhere (not just their trunk), etc. She’d send me gross ones from her city and I’d send her some from mine. Anyway, this dude posted this:

[B]http://austin.craigslist.org/cas/1043799418.html [/B]

I had a good time laughing at him. Fueled by the champagne, I sent him a nice lovely email that said, “With your little ass in the air, all in the prone position, it makes me want to sing: You’re so gay. You probably think this song is about you. You’re so gay….” Now, it seems really silly, but it was hilarious at the time, especially since A) I was drunk and *everything* was funny, B) my friend and I were singing along at the time and c) he wrote me back with,” Whatever, Carly Simon.”

So, my friend was scouring in Men for Women because hey, eHarmony charges and CL is free. She found this dude that seemed okay, except he has the Bionic Forehead. He has the Incredible Hulk of Foreheads. It got bigger in each picture he sent. She was worried about how long his response time was taking and I said it was because he was answering other responders and she said that he told her no one else replied, so I, in my infinite deviousness, had her send me the link so I could reply to him. I wrote to him and this is what ensued:

[B]Hey. I saw your CL ad. Before I get all excited, are you real?[/B]

Yes I am for real! Ok here are my pics…

[I]

****Didn’t I tell you? His forehead looks like something out of Alien Nation****[/I]

[B]Has anyone else responded to your ad?[/B]

Yeah a couple people.

[I]

*****He just told my friend a BLATANT LIE. Here comes Evil Me………******[/I]

[B]I am in Austin, but I’m moving to L.A. next week. Here’s the link to my ad. Tell me if you like what you see.

http://austin.craigslist.org/cas/1043799418.html[/B]

[I]***You already know where that link goes to….*******[/I]

Ummm sorry…was looking for a woman…

[I]**That’s right. I made your lying ass look at man ass. hahahahaha*****[/I]

[B]I will be a woman after my trip to Thailand next month. Can we hook up when I get back?[/B]

[I]****Yes, all you Real World watchers know I was letting Katelynn be my guide right about now.*******[/I]

no thanks…good luck with that though.

So, because I was only two bottles of champagne to the wind, I decided to start texting my ex, you know, Naughty Nanny Boy. Yeah…him. hehehe. I asked him if he’d found true love or if he was still searching. Keep in mind, he has an ad up on Craig’s List right now looking for an Escort. Think I’m playing? [B]http://austin.craigslist.org/m4w/1010376974.html[/B]

I’m an English major, Buddy. Analyzing writing styles is my bread and butter.

He said he was still looking and then the cat and mouse game proceeded. I knew he deleted my number. I keep *everyone’s* number. That way, on the off chance they don’t delete yours and they try to call you, you’ll already know who it is and know not to answer. I told him that we had dated and we’d had an altercation and we don’t speak anymore (all true, right?). We went back and forth and he kept trying to figure out how he knew me. He couldn’t pin down who I was (that’s what happens when you f— over multiple women) so he asked why we fought and I told him that he was a little upset with me when he found out I had been born a man.

Time out. Men: If someone told you this, would you keep texting about this or would you squash it and not reply? Me, too, but not this assclown. He kept mixing it up with me trying to get me to tell him who I was. He kept trying to say I had the wrong person, but I called him out by his real name, remarked on him having red hair, and the coup de grâce, asked him did he still try to pass off positions he learned in yoga class as sexual positions he invented. I am in hysterics by this point, because no matter what craziness I put out there, he kept fricking responding! He even tried to call me! Who honestly would call? Who?!?!?!?

I wouldn’t answer, so then he tried to call private like I was stupid enough to answer. So then, he texted me back and put, “Why didn’t you answer? Are you scared?” I told him, “Can’t answer because I’m giving a hand job right now.” ANY sane person would have just stopped at that point, if not earlier. Not this assclown. He tells me to call him when I’m done. WTH?!?!? Common sense should have told him I was lying because how am I too busy giving a handjob to answer, but I can still manage to text? Come on, now. By this point, my friend and I are in tears laughing and I had snorted champagne through my nose like twice.

Now this fool keeps calling me private, hoping I’ll answer the phone so he can figure out who I am. It’s been three days, Buddy, give it up. This is my punishment, but it cheered up my friend immensely and it kept us from feeling bad for staying home on a Friday night, so I’ll keep sending his annoying calls straight to voicemail.

Marlena would say that this is what I get for dating a redhead in the first place….

State of the Union: Still hungover

Listening to: America’s Suitehearts by Fall Out Boy

Edited: February 27th, 2009

Amigos: So Sad

I got my heart broken today. My friend’s son passed away and his funeral was today. He was ten years old and a gaming guru. There was no game he couldn’t manage to crack. If they made that gaming movie that came out in the 80’s, (what’s it? The Wizard, I think) he would have been the lead actor.

He was smart, funny, filled with life and energy and it’s just a shame that he had to die. I hate it when kids pass. It’s tragic and it makes all the bullshit that you’re caught up in seem so pointless and trivial.

Rest in Peace, Ray, and look out for us because I know you’re in Heaven.

State of the Union: Sad
Listening to: Nada

Edited: February 27th, 2009

Amigos: Bitchassness is at a Level Orange

There is an epidemic that is sweeping across my friendships. This plague is infecting people left and right and needs to be stamped out before it spreads further and infects the masses. What is it called? Bitchassness. P. Diffy termed this coin on Making the Band Season 4. According to the Urban Dictionary, symptoms include:

1.Punkish tendencies (i.e. acting like a p***y)

2.Cattiness, such as talking behind someone’s back

3.Thinking highly of yourself, but only expressing it under your breath

4.Claiming “hurt feelings” when you are called out on your bullshit.

The following is an informative clip from NecoleBitchie.com made by people in the know letting you know what bitchassness is and giving you prime examples to let you know if you or your loved ones have been infected.

I, personally, am done with all the backbiting and covert bitchassness that has been going on lately. I’ve been on pause for a minute, but I’m about to press play and go off on some people.

Diddy said there will be no bitchassness at Bad Boy and the same applies in Slayer Land. Any person with an ounce of bitchassness in them will be called out on their bullshit and and/or eradicated.

State of the Union: Fed Up

Listening to: Bia Bia by Lil John

Edited: September 26th, 2008

Amigos: Bitchassness is at a Level Orange

There is an epidemic that is sweeping across my friendships. This plague is infecting people left and right and needs to be stamped out before it spreads further and infects the masses. What is it called? Bitchassness. P. Diffy termed this coin on Making the Band Season 4. According to the Urban Dictionary, symptoms include:

1.Punkish tendencies (i.e. acting like a p***y)

2.Cattiness, such as talking behind someone’s back

3.Thinking highly of yourself, but only expressing it under your breath

4.Claiming “hurt feelings” when you are called out on your bullshit.

The following is an informative clip from NecoleBitchie.com made by people in the know letting you know what bitchassness is and giving you prime examples to let you know if you or your loved ones have been infected.

I, personally, am done with all the backbiting and covert bitchassness that has been going on lately. I’ve been on pause for a minute, but I’m about to press play and go off on some people.

Diddy said there will be no bitchassness at Bad Boy and the same applies in Slayer Land. Any person with an ounce of bitchassness in them will be called out on their bullshit and and/or eradicated.

State of the Union: Fed Up

Listening to: Bia Bia by Lil John

Edited: September 26th, 2008

Amigos: To the Left, To the Left

Gianni did his experiment to expose my real friends from my fake ones by deleting all my numbers out of my phone last year. His rationale was that my real friends would call when they didn’t hear from me. I don’t think it was wise to have blogged about it while it was going on, because I had some friends that called me right after they read that post. So, that wasn’t the smartest course of action, but whatever. I was in shock at how many people actually read my blog to begin with.

I didn’t do an experiment this time because I feel that I shouldn’t have to test you to determine if you’re my friend. Your actions should show it and I should just know. And what I know is this: a real friend calls for no reason. A real friend emails you or IM’s you just because. A real friend will send you random texts just because you crossed their mind. A real friend responds to your text messages. A real friend returns your phone calls in a timely fashion (72 hours is sufficient time to call someone back) A real friend shows up when they say they’re going to be there. A real friend doesn’t let months on end pass without contacting you. A real friend doesn’t contact you when it’s close to their birthday or their kid’s birthday or Christmas because they know that you buy good presents. A real friend doesn’t call you only when they want something from you. They aren’t too busy to be bothered with you until their kid needs to be tutored because they’re going to be held back, or their spouse is cheating on them or the boyfriend that they kicked you to the curb for breaks up with them and they are at loose ends.

I have spent a week reevaluating my relationships. I can see now who has been there and who hasn’t. I can see who takes advantage of my generosity, who take and take without ceasing, who don’t put forth any time or any effort, but demand it of me, nonetheless. It makes me sad, but at the end of the day, it is what it is. It’s sad. It’s a shame. And it’s done. I’m done. I’m not going to try anymore. The people that have made the effort are the ones that I’m going to keep around. All the rest…well, they can kick rocks. I am cleaning house and the unhealthy, abusive, undermining, and downright indifferent friendships are coming to an end.

State of the Union: Done
Listening to: Irreplaceble by Beyoncé (Fitting, ain’t it?)

Edited: September 16th, 2008

Amigos: Photos

It’s 5:35 a.m. and I can’t sleep. I already did some unpacking before my selective ADD kicked in (Selective because it only flares up when it’s something I don’t want to do) and I set myself to the task of finding my card reader. After digging in four different spots: Ta Dah!

This is a picture of all the things Ben sent me for the Gift Meme.

Julie doesn’t want any of her pictures up on the internet because she thinks her stalker ex boyfriend/baby daddy will find them. (Even though I don’t know him, have never met him, and 98% of my friends don’t know I have a blog, but whatever). So, as a compromise, the only pictures that will be shown will be non-alcohol and non her-boobs-hanging-out-of-whatever-outfit-she-happens-to- be-wearing, so that pretty much cuts out most of her pictures, but here’s a couple from her husband’s birthday party.

Julie and Mario.

Drunken whores!

Melody disproves Marlena’s theory that redheads are ugly.

Here are some pictures from our improv show at Kick Butt.

Sonya is so talented, it’s scary. It’s like she has no bones and can make her body do any type of contortion. She’s always moving too fast for cameras to capture the essence of her.

This is from my first show at Kick Butt. Sonya is my hero.We show that you can be a bad ass dancer and not look like a twig.

Tasmia and Dee Dee doing a duet dance.

I made a belly dance outfit and then packed it away during my move right before our second improv show, so I took one of my hip scarves and turned it into a shirt. Everyone was impressed. I’m not sure if it was because I did a good job (no one knew it was a hip scarf until I told them) or because they were impressed my boobs didn’t pop out while I was dancing.

Dude, my tan lines are STILL here from Cancun in May.

Here are pictures from the Pageant of the Fairy Queen.

Z-Helene’s outfit was outrageous. She took the outfit I gave her (the gold parts) and “augmented” them. I think she had a color to represent every fairy in the pageant.

Here is my heinous fairy outfit. I really do look like the Great Pumpkin from the Charlie Brown Special. She sewed the shirt together and just cut holes for my head and arms to pop out of, so I went in and fixed them to make a proper shirt with seams,made the shirt a V neck and put gold leaf accents. I sewed orange and gold tulle and net to the burnt orange hip belt that she made. I would have cut the neckline lower, but I didn’t want to be the skank fairy

Tas and I hamming it up in the ugliest costumes in the history of the free world.

Shayla’s husband took these really awesome pictures out in the audience. I need to find the cd she put them on. I will post them once I locate it under the mountains of paperwork on my desk at work.

State of the Union: Pictorial (Can I say picture-y?)

Listening to: Viva la Vida by Coldplay

Edited: August 26th, 2008

Amigos: What About Your Friends

Yes, I am singing the TLC song right now, but it does bring me to something I’ve been meaning to blog about for a while now. Last night, as I couldn’t sleep from the heartburn I get after eating steak late at night (Damn you, Texas Land and Cattle!), I started thinking about my circle of friends. I have friends from work, a few friends from school, friends from various jobs and friends I only see when I go to the bar. Rarely, rarely do they intermingle. I keep my life compartmentalized. Most of my friends don’t know each other. 99.9% of my friends will never meet my family.

I realized last night that most of my friends do not live in Austin. They’ve moved to different cities in Texas, to different states and to different countries. I still email them, or talk to them through My Space, or call them. Even though they aren’t here anymore, I still feel the bond to them, so much so, that I never sought replacements for them. Not that they can be replaced in my affections or in my heart, but I would seek another person to replace the physical void that they left.

I know I should get out and make new friends. I have been holed up at home for a while now. I had Gianni, so I didn’t need a lot of friends because he was a three ring circus all by himself. I think part of the problem (for lack of a better word) is you guys. My online friends. You blog too much. You lead interesting lives. I have more fun sitting here, reading about your happiness, your sadness, your triumphs, and your disappointments than I do going out. And you wanna know what’s bad? Even when I am out, I will find myself thinking about you, worrying about you, and wondering if that issue you’ve been puzzled over or fretting about has resolved itself.

It is a testament to how much I love you guys that I care more about what you think than some of my “real life” friends. I can be flipping out and you will calm me down, you are genuinely happy when I am happy and you always find the right thing to say or some silly joke or picture to make it okay when I’m sad. Every guy that I date knows that I blog. I say it with pride. (I also tell them that a posse from various states and countries around the world will band together and collectively kick their ass if they mess me about).

I am a mean-hearted, selfish person at times and I don’t give credit where it’s due, so I am saying it now. Thank you, Online Friend, for being my pillar of support, for being my personal cheering section, and for teaching me everyday, with words and actions, what being a good friend is. Thank you for allowing me to have a glimpse into your world and for opening yourself up to me. Some people think it’s nuts that I am so open about my life with you guys. Some people think that “online” means perverted or creepy. I think that they are just jealous.

State of the Union: So Proud of my Crew

Listening to: Smile by Lily Allen

Edited: August 26th, 2008

Amigos: Heart Stomper

Believe it or not, I really don’t like giving advice to people. It’s kind of pointless. They will do whatever they want to do anyway, no matter what you tell them. Jeremy is breaking my heart, though. Poor little ducky is in love with this chick that took him by storm. She made him open up, made him get honest with himself, made him feel things down to the core of his cold little heart. Then, she got sick. He took care of her as best as he could, but she thought she was going to die and she wanted to be with her family, so she went back to Kuala Lumpur.

She went home and got treatment and now she’s in remission. He e-mailed and IMed this girl every single day for months on end. She told him that she would come back once she was better and they could start their life together. Only problem is, she’s been in remission for almost three years now and she’s made no efforts to come back here. She still does the electronic correspondence with him, but waaay less frequently than before. If he hears from her every three weeks or so, he’s batting a thousand.

Everyone has tried to tell him that he needs to move on and find someone else because she’s obviously over it. Everyone has tried to take him out, introduce him to new women that are available and accessible for dating, but he won’t hear of it. He has clung to this chick as his one and only, as his ideal, and no one else will do. He’s met some truly spectacular women and booted them because he’s waiting for this woman who I’m sure he’s over-glamatized in his head. (And I know glamatized isn’t a real word, but it’s real to me, so get over it.) He asked me for my honest opinion and I was not looking forward to this. Is there a gentle way to stomp on someone’s hopes and dreams? Yeah, I didn’t think so, either.

I asked him if she gave a timeline or a rough estimate of when she was coming back and she said that she wasn’t sure. From what he was saying (indirectly, of course) she is making a life for herself over there and enjoying her family and is in no hurry to come back here. I tried to be nice. I tried to be gentle. I even tried to play Devil’s Advocate (which I hate to do). He looked just as confused as ever and then I asked him if he wanted me to be a good, supportive friend or if he wanted me to be Demetrius. He asked for it.

I played him straight and told him the truth: put a fork in it; it’s done. If she wanted to be here, she would find a way to get here. Her family is extremely well off; if she wanted to come back here, they could easily pay for her ticket. Heck, they were paying all her living expenses the entire time she lived here and she lived HIGH on the hog, let me tell you. Even if her parents wouldn’t pay for the ticket, if she wanted to be here, she would find a way. She would do whatever it took, no matter how long it took, to get back here. If she was in love, deep, abiding love, she would have been willing to flip burgers at McDonald’s if that’s what it took and this was really, truly where she wanted to be.

I told him that the best thing he can do is remain friends with her and at least open himself up to the idea that there is someone out there that is just as equally suited for him. He probably met 50 girls over that could have been his other half, but he passed them by because he was hung up on a chick that wasn’t hung up on him. I hate situations like this because they were so cute, and so in love, and even I, black hearted, jaded wench that I am, wanted them to be together, but you can’t build something if the other person isn’t willing. You can’t will something into existence. Believe me, I’ve tried.

He looked really sad and then resigned. I got up and bought a Cosmo from the bar and sent him over to give it to my friend, Shelly, who was running low in the drink department. He thinks I was being a good friend, and, in a way, I was, but anyone that knows me knows I’m a matchmaker at heart, and I feel it in my bones that she is the perfect girl for him. Who knows, there could be some serious sparkage and I might be donning my bridesmaid hat for the 23rd time……..

State of the Union: Wistful
Listening to: The Greatest by Cat Power

Edited: August 26th, 2008