Valentine’s Day is a commercial clap trap. You know it. I know it. It’s the one day that women are required to put out as long as the man puts up some “visible displays of affection.” So, in case I don’t see you or hear from you tomorrow, here’s your Slayer Valentine:
State of the Union: Happy
Listening to: If You Seek Amy by Britney Spears
Edited: February 27th, 2009
Last Saturday, I danced at Kick Butt Coffee. I normally drink Cosmos, but my friend, Colleen, ordered something that came in a pint glass with Coke. I wanted a sugar buzz, so I asked for whatever she was having. Turns out she ordered a Crown and Coke. Crown makes me inhibitionless and Coke makes me hyper. Can you see where this is headed? Yup, I have my fingers, toes, and eyes crossed that no one was filming my dance because I kept having visions that I was in that whole “debauchery” scene in The Ten Commandments right before Moses came down and saw all the sinning, so I can only *imagine* how the hell I was dancing. I kept bouncing up and down like Tigger afterwards. I am cursing the man that made video phones because, otherwise, I’d be in the clear.
Here’s some pics. Seth says that I smile like Britney Spears when I’m drunk.
Mario and Myself. He was cheering loudly for me, so I must have been doing some skanky dancing.
No, this is not a drug deal caught on camera. We get tips from the audience.
Myself with Elena. My nana made me this top as one of my Hanukkah presents.
Myself with Skinny. Well, her name is Carolina. We took classes together.
Afterwards, I had my Christmukkah party. I have retained my crown of Perfect Party Hostess. That or they liked the free food and liquor. I had boneless buffalo wings with Frank’s red sauce and ranch, spicy meatballs, and little sausage thingies in Hickory Mango barbecue sauce (which tasted waaay better than it sounds). I also made guacamole and nachos. I had sangria (for all the wine drinkers), Dos Equis, Corona, Bud Light, and Stella for the beer drinkers, fruit punch with Kentucky Deluxe (what Brandon and I used to sneak and drink when we were underage, undercover alcoholics in training) and Martha Stewart eggnog. That eggnog was strong. The recipe calls for rum, cognac, and bourbon. That Martha Stewart knows how to get me revved up. Oh, and I had the perennial Jello shots. I got progressively more tore up as the night progressed. I’d had an impromptu get together the night before, so my blood type was Jack Daniels by this point.
Paul had major dental surgery and was hopped up on Percocet, so he was *really* happy.
Julie kept talking to me like she was expecting me to punch her in the face at any moment. I guess that’s what happens when you talk smack and get busted. Little did she know, I was druuuuunk and when I am druuuuunk I’m friends with *everyone.*
Myself with Vanessa. We normally sit back at parties, drink in hand, and watch our friends implode on themselves. We love the Hills, Britney Spears, and I know she will plow me down to get to Brody Jenner.
Bobby’s in the Navy. I told him to bring me a High School Musical messenger bag and a Navy Seal. I’m still waiting, Bobby……
Jeannie, Helene, and Julie. Jeannie and Helene are wiccas. Can you imagine how crazy it would be to have wicca belly dancers at your party?
Paul and Vanessa. The two calm, drama-free people in my life.
Lisa and Myself. Yes, I look like the Grinch. *insert evil grin*
Mario is totally going in for the steal. Like my electric menorah? Yeah, I couldn’t find candles for my other one, but hey, I got this one for 75% off at World Market.
Helene was about to beat a hasty retreat. She reminds me so much of my Nana Lena. Both of them expect me to do the impossible and I can’t tell either of them no.
Cody is the nicest dude I know. He’s also clueless. He thinks I’m a sweet girl. Yeah, go ahead and laugh. I sure as hell did.
I was so lit up that I didn’t notice where Paul’s hand was until I uploaded the pictures on My Space the next day.
And, believe it or not, this is not a shameless promotion for my mostly intact boobies, but more an illustration of how hard I was buzzing. Everyone got a good laugh off of the fact that I was holding my camera in the wrong direction as I took the picture. Note to self: Don’t drink your own punch.
State of the Union: Slightly embarrassed
Listening to: Will You Be Mine by JJ Faris
Edited: January 3rd, 2009
Yesterday was probably the most laid back Christmas ever. Probably because my mom was sad about my nana and in no mood to fight. She went to go visit her dad’s side of the family. They are “ultra-conservative” and she was afraid that my dress was too low cut (It wasn’t. My boobs are growing again) and reference was made to the boots I was wearing. I told my mom that she hurt my feelings because she was basically saying I looked like a skank (She wasn’t, but I had to play the martyr so she’d get mad and not be sad). I told her that, since I was too trailer park for her family and she was afraid I was going to bring shame to her, I’d go spend it with family that likes me. Yes, people, I had to pick a fight with my mother so I could go see my dad and nana before they left and not feel like a traitor. I wish my mother and grandmother could get along, but that’s like trying to get Israel and Palestine to have happy hour together, so I won’t hold my breath.
I didn’t get what I really wanted for Christmas and I’m trying not to be sad about it. I’m not materialistic or shallow. I wanted something from someone that couldn’t be bought. Alas, it was not to be, so I’m gonna stop whining now. I did, however, make my Christmas wish. It is my fondest hope that it comes true. My dad also bought me some snazzy new “donated hair” that had shades of my natural hair color in it. That was really cool. One bone of contention, though: Neither of my dads nor my Nana Lena wanted to be in any of the pictures (Anti-social people that happen to be extremely photogenic piss me off). Why waste your hotness? It deserves to be seen.
Any bad feelings I may have had were eased away by the sheer joy my little brother and sister displayed as they opened all the presents I got for them. This is my dad’s slow season, so he isn’t working much, so my mom bought my little brother two games for his PSIII and my little sister got the pink Hannah Montana guitar and everything else came from “Sister Claus” (My siblings have known from the jump that there’s no Santa Claus. We didn’t even have to tell them). I went around distributing presents to my friend’s kids (I got tickled when Becca called me “Auntie Dee Dee Claus”) and then I ended up at Rodeo to keep my friend, Vincent, company.
He kept putting two balloons up to his chest and saying that he was me.
Anyway, here are some pictures from Christmas Day.
I hope that each of you got what you wanted for Christmas. I know it’s not really about presents, but I hope all of you felt the peace and hope that I sent your way. Slayer Claus wants to wish all of you a safe and happy holiday season.
Edited: January 3rd, 2009
I was looking for graphics to spam people’s My Space accounts with:
Christmas Graphics hosted at MySpaceGraphicsandAnimations.com
Christmas graphics hosted at MySpaceGraphicsandAnimations.com
Christmas graphics hosted at MySpaceGraphicsandAnimations.com
Christmas MySpace Funny Pictures
Christmas MySpace Funny Pictures
Christmas graphics hosted at MySpaceGraphicsandAnimations.com
This has nothing to do with Christmas humor, other than the fact that I’m watching it and it’s Christmas and it’s funny. Keep your eye on the one in the middle. She’s gonna drop it like it’s hot.
Edited: December 25th, 2008
I was looking for graphics to spam people’s My Space accounts with:
Christmas Graphics hosted at MySpaceGraphicsandAnimations.com
Christmas graphics hosted at MySpaceGraphicsandAnimations.com
Christmas graphics hosted at MySpaceGraphicsandAnimations.com
Christmas MySpace Funny Pictures
Christmas MySpace Funny Pictures
Christmas graphics hosted at MySpaceGraphicsandAnimations.com
This has nothing to do with Christmas humor, other than the fact that I’m watching it and it’s Christmas and it’s funny. Keep your eye on the one in the middle. She’s gonna drop it like it’s hot.
Edited: December 25th, 2008
I was thinking about LMC and all her crazy call center customers. Then I got the giggles thinking about what kind of Jerky Boys nonsense would Cam manage to pull out of his hat if he got LMC as he prank called the Fingerhut hotline. Then, as I was looking for My Space comments to spam people with (this is your warning that it’s coming, all you My Space whores), I came across this and snorted whiskey and coke out my nose.
It has cats and Keystone. Could it *be* anymore Cam?
This one is for the ladies….
Somehow, I’m willing to risk the hives I *know* I would get and take a roll in the hay with that dude. Does anyone have his number?!?!?!?!?!?!
Bet you $5 Santa tapped that…..
Santa doesn’t need GPS to find my house. He can find his way blindfolded.
I have that outfit and I know *I’m* not kidding when I say that…..
OMFG. This dude said that to me at a party last night. I spewed egg nog all in his fat face.
Sorry, boys. They didn’t have any topless girls.
Jonathan doesn’t have to worry about that where I work at. They have a freeze on hiring hot guys.
Has anyone ever tried the babymaking process in the snow? Wouldn’t there be, to quote George from Seinfeld, ummm…shrinkage?
If the other snowman had champagne, that would totally be me. You guys would be able to tell. I’m the only person I know that has a pink hairdryer.
Santa obviously got hit by Oceanic Flight 815.
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I’ve been such a bad girl that the only way that I’ll ever get a flat screen t.v. is to either buy it myself or to become…….
State of the Union: Tired
Listening to: Mayor Que Yo by Luny Tunes
Edited: December 21st, 2008
Race riots. Water hoses. Armed guards. Dogs. Burning crosses. Church burnings. Jim Crow laws. Segregation. Things I don’t have to deal with thanks to people like Martin Luther King. With all my petty drama going on, I forgot to blog about the holiday yesterday. I never really think about race. I know that sounds kinda weird, but I don’t. I don’t think about you being this and me being that. I just see all of us as being people. I know that racism exists out there, but it’s never been something that I’ve really experienced blatantly, firsthand. I’ve never had anyone call me the n-word. I’ve never been discriminated against, at least to my face. Now, my nana on the other hand, she can tell you some race horror stories. So can my Jewish nana. I hear them and it’s horrible, but it’s like their talking about some far away land and some far away time, but it’s sad to know that this was going on for as long as they can remember and is still going on today.
I’m glad that I was born when I was. I don’t have to struggle the way my mother did, the way my nana did and her mother before her. I don’t have to worry about being denied a quality education. I can sit where I want to sit and eat where I want to eat. I can vote, I can live where I want to live, and it’s okay for me to love other races than my own. I know that many people had to suffer all kinds of injustices for me to have the freedoms that so many take for granted. I’m glad that I wasn’t born during slavery days because I would have been killed for being a mouthy broad or for planning a revolution.
It makes me sad to know that there are people out there that hate people just because. Get to know me first and, if you decide you don’t like me, that’s fine. We don’t have to be friends, but don’t hate me just because my skin is darker than yours, or because I’m hotter than you (just kidding, but I had to throw it in). I live for the day that people can just peacefully coexist. If everyone just does their own thing, minds their own business and treats everyone with even a 10th of the respect that we would want for themselves, our whole stinking planet wouldn’t be in the mess that it’s in. Public service rant is over.
Don’t be a bugger and I won’t be a bugger.
State of the Union: Dreamful (which I know isn’t a real word, but whatever)
Listening to: That Girl is a Cowboy by Garth Brooks
Edited: August 18th, 2008
Christmas was Christmas. I got the same gift cards I get every year from the same stores. (The Triumvirate: Gap, Banana Republic and Old Navy) I bought my parents clothes to wear and my mum some Angel perfume so that she could stay out of mine. I gave my brother electronics and books. My little sister got the Hannah Montana double cd, High School Musical II and the best gift for any girl between the ages of 4 and 17: Hannah Montana concert tickets. (Thanks, Gianni, I owe you big time) He also bought us tickets to go see George Strait. Yeah! I love that man. He sings songs that break my heart, make me wanna fall in love, and make me wanna do nasty things to cowboys with ropes, spurs and a latigo.
Here’s my stinkybutt brother, stinkybutt sister, and my stinkybutt mother.
My family and I had a ragtag Christmas dinner. My aunt was supposed to host this year, but she ended up having to have a minor surgery and wasn’t up to it. People were supposed to bring things to my parents instead, but they flaked. So, we made miracles, considering that all the stores were closed. My nana was complaining that all her teeth were falling out and generally made people’s lives miserable until I gave her some truffles.
She refused to smile for the picture. I told her she’s too old to act like Posh Spice.
We ended up having dessert at another aunt’s house and people gathered there. It was the most relaxed Christmas that I’ve had in a long time and I realized that it was this way because there weren’t any relatives there that I didn’t like. The only people there were chill, laid back individuals and we had a blast reminiscing and telling dumb stories about what’s been going on in our lives.
You have to forgive my mum and me. We were lit up like the 4th of July on egg nog.
The only thing that marred this was my little brother and sister breaking some 250.00 candleholder and my older sister, but that’s going to rate a separate entry.
*Enter evil cloud of doom*
State of the Union: Peaceful
Listening to: A customer droning on about how she can’t pay her bill until January 21st.
Edited: August 18th, 2008
There’s a tradition that we used to have as kids. We would lie under the Christmas tree and stare up into the branches, watching the lights reflect off the ornaments. Then, we’d stay up on Christmas Eve waiting for the stroke of midnight when it would be Christmas morning and we could make our Christmas wish. I think this was the one night of the year where my older sister and I would not fight. It’s one of the only happy memories I really have of her growing up. Let’s just say she is not the most pleasant person.
Christmas wishes were sacred. They required lots of thought and planning. I can’t even remember what I used to wish for when I was younger, I just remember that they always came true, until I turned twelve. Every year since I was twelve, I have wished for the same thing. It still hasn’t happened yet. But, every year, I wish still the same. It’s silly, really. I keep wishing and it never happens, but I do it anyway because I have faith. Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. There are a lot of things that have happened in the past five years that have severely tested my faith. There are times when I know I should have given up, abandoned my dream and moved on. But I can’t.
I cling to my wish. I grasp it tight. I have faith. In a world that is constantly changing, when we don’t know from day to day what will come, it’s nice to have something to hold onto. Something to believe in. Maybe that’s why it hasn’t happened. If my Christmas wish was granted, what would I hold onto then? I ponder this and then I realize that, if it was granted, I’d probably move on to something else, something equally as selfish.
My wish is going to be different this year. I’m going to take it and wish for someone else, someone who has lost their way. Maybe, in them getting their happy ending, I can finally find my own.
State of the Union: Optimistic and hopeful
Listening to: Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas by Tori Amos
Edited: August 18th, 2008
I’m praying that the Hanukkah Armadillo and Santa Claus team up to bring me the one thing I really, really, really, REEEAAALLLLYYY want this year:
I’m normally not in favor of nut huggers, but David Beckham is the one case where I’m willing to make an exception.
State of the Union: Blissful
Listening to: All I Want for Christmas by Mariah Carey
Edited: August 18th, 2008
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