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missing a dog is a terrible thing.


son of a


So, I got some lame news today. I am going to be a dink and not disclose what that news was. Because even though I have discussed my vagina, some things are boring private, OKAY?

Needless to say I'm crabby. I've decided I'm not going to stay crabby. Instead I will be all kinds of peaceful, and everything happens for a reason, and zen, and namaste, and humble, and accept what you have and blah blah fucking blah.
I will be aaaaaaaaall of those things.

For right now I'm going to complain about some stupid shit to make myself feel better.

Okay, so, first of all, we can all agree that these rich actors/singers/ball players don't really use the products they're promoting, right? (Except maybe Michael Jordan because even rich people need undershirts.) SJP doesn't use 10$ Garnier dark circle eye-roller, Gwen Stefanie doesn't use 8$ L'Oreal hair dye, etc. They just don't. And neither would you if you made 85 GAZILLION dollars. I'm not saying there's anything wrong with you if you use them. I'm not saying I don't use them (I do). I'm just saying they don't. Because if you can afford to hire someone to have your kids for you, you can spring for the good stuff.

BUT. Some of their commercials get to me for other reasons. 

For example. If you are trying to convince me to purchase a face wash, you really shouldn't show yourself "washing your face" IN FULL MAKEUP. "Oh it's so cleansing! It gets rid of dirt and oil!" Bitch, please. Apparently it won't even wash off your foundation. This is especially, especially annoying for washes that allegedly even skin tone. If you're not willing to show your skin and it's oh-so-even tone? I'm not buying.

Also annoying? When someone is doing a commercial for some kind of hair-care product and they have HUGE ROOTS. I.... I just.... for real? If IIIIIIIIII have time to get my roots done, so do you, person who is being paid large sums of money to star in a commercial that is focused primarily on THE HAIR ON YOUR HEAD.

Also? If you are looking for product reviews, here are two of mine:

Magic mesh: Piece of shit.
Slushy magic: Doesn't fucking work.
Basically what I'm saying is, if it has the word magic in it's title, and you can buy it in the As Seen On TV section of Bed, Bath and Beyond, don't buy it.

I'm going to invent something called the Magic Bullshit Detector. That ShamWow guy is going to do the commercial and whenever he says magic he's going to have to say it like "maaaaaaaaaaaaagic". True story.
The Magic Bullshit Detector (patent pending) is going to be this:

My phone number.
Before you buy something from an infomercial you call me.
We have the following convo:

You: I want to buy,
Me: Does it have the word magic in the title, or use the words "like magic" in the commercial?
You: Yes -
Me: Don't buy it.
You: But I didn't even tell you what,
Me: Don't buy it.

BAM. You pay me 19.95.



spin cycle.


As I mentioned the other day, Roberto and I have moved. For the most part, I have all positive things to say about our little casa with a view of Target.

It has a view of target.

It is close to my work, and close-ish to Roberto's work.

The water pressure is fantastico.

For the most part we rarely run into any neighbors (antisocial alert).

HOWEVER. The neighbors I do run into? No bueno.

*The lady who contorts her body to get away from the dogs.
Relax. I won't let them jump on you and your never ending supply of capri yoga pants. That you wore even when it was like, 30 degrees outside.You should make friends with...

*The lady who lets her little unstable toddler scream and waddle up to Ivan.
This is not a good idea. Ivan needs a quiet introduction period and drugs (lots and lots of drugs) before he is ready for an encounter with a little tyke. If she and don't-let-your-dogs-look-at-me lady could some how gel into one person we would have the perfect happy medium. 

And don't worry, it's not just chicks.

*Dude who does not grasp that Ivan wants to fight your dog.
Your dog is very cute. And trust me, I believe you that he is a good boy and wouldn't hurt a fly. But, apparently you have missed the fact that Ivan has his hackles up and is making ungodly noises at you and trying to lunge at your dog.
Ivan. Hates. Your. Dog.
He does not hate all dogs.
He hates your dog.
The end.

Oh no wait, it's not the end. Because the guy is also creepy as fuck.
So, one morning when we ran into each other, and he decided to stop and try and have a conversation with me while I was trying to juggle two bags of dog poo, Dashy who was trying to get back into the house and Ivan who was trying to attach himself to his dog's jugular... because OF COURSE HE DID.

Like, honestly, why do you think this is a good idea? Does it look like I'm enjoying your conversation about how many little dogs there are in the complex? Can you not tell that my "Haha, yes. They are good apartment sized dogs." is strained to say the least?

No. Apparently you cannot.
And then? He tells me that there is a place where tons of people take their dogs hiking off leash (because, you know, that's such a good idea for Ivan) and procedes to give me turn by turn directions with land marks and approximate mileage (while wrestling my dogs, and two bags of poo). THEN? He says "I have a copy of the map in my truck. Why don't you come with me and I'll give it to you."
Okay, so, I know I'm above pedophile age by, um, a lot. But FOR REAL? NO MAN WITH A MOLESTER MUSTACHE I WILL NOT GO TO YOUR TRUCK WITH YOU.

There is also annoying, but sad and clearly lonely weird old man who tells me which washer and dryer I should and shouldn't use, and engages me in conversations that are absolutely inescapable. And annoying, slightly less sad and lonely man who tells me the same joke every time I see him about how the management at our complex won't let him have a pet jaguar.
um. lolz.



tiny procrastination problem

Have any of you considered deleting Tiny Wings from your phone because you're wasting hours of your life trying to nest up?

Yeah, no, me neither, I would never do that.
And by "that" I mean, delete tiny wings.
Also? Have you ever watched QI? :

Have you ever watched like, 8 episodes in one day, then stayed up all night watching more and then been a zombie the next day at work because you stayed up until 2am?

Hahaha, I know, right? That's so stupid, WHO would do that?

And I know Draw Something is fun. But when you go through so many turns that it gets to 99 and then just keeps repeating over and over (because the makers of the game didn't anticipate that 1) you would be so amazing that people would always be able to guess your drawings and 2) that you would remain captivated through 100+ levels of drawsome goodness), you might have a smidge of an issue.
But I can quit any time, so it's fine.

Then, of course. Is the ever popular watching cute/stupid pet videos on youtube. But some people take it to another level, and take videos of their pets reacting to videos of pets.
I mean, really. Do those people even have lives?!

I guess what this all boils down to is that I think some of you may have a problem or two, and I'm worried. I think we need to have an intervention where we sit down in a room full of people who love you and...

OH, I just thought of something else people who aren't me might blow an entire afternoon doing... watching Intervention.
Netflix. Ruining productivity since... Oh look, SOUTH PARK....
I guess what I'm saying is, there are lots of things that can distract you from achieving functional adult human status. Draw Something, LOL-anything, Netflix, Youtube... the possibilities are endless. But let's make a promise to each other that if you've been home from work for 4 hours and there are dishes in the sink, and the dogs still need to eat, and you're still in your work clothes that you will make yourself step away from the computer and get some shit done.

Now if you'll excuse me I have to do the dishes, feed the dogs and change out of my work clothes do a few things.




I'm in a wedding on Saturday. NBD, right?

Wrong, moron.

Oh, I'm... I'm so sorry... I didn't mean that. You're super smart. I'm just a little tense, so I'm apt to get snappy. Just ask Roberto. On second thought... don't. Because if he says I've been snappy I might kill him in his sleep. I meaaaaaaaan have a serious look at my snappiness and apologize. Or kill him.
You know what, we should just move on from this.

( Okay, we're moving on in one second but I just have to say this:  This is the first wedding I've ever been in, besides my own. I was starting to feel like maybe I'm not a good friend, and when people were getting married they didn't feel like I was VIP enough to play a supporting role on their big day. I NOW feel like maybe they thought I might be a teensy bit too psychotic to handle the stress that goes along with assisting with the most stressful planning/event of most people's lives. I would like to say, in defense of my psychoticness, that I have held my shit together and intend on coming out of this largely unscathed.
That being said, holy. shit. balls. )

I'm also super tired.

When Roberto and I moved we got a new bed. We were going to get a king, but after measuring our new bedroom, we discovered that a king size would leave us with approximately the width of a deck of cards around the perimeter of the room. Which we were almost okay with, until we realized that would leave no room for a TV. I know. Thank god we figured it out in time.

The reason we were planning on getting a king sized bed?
exhibit a

exhibit b
 Now, before any of you start on how small these dogs are, keep in mind...

1) They generally sleep in one of 3 positions:
a) in between my legs, on top of the covers
b) in between my legs UNDER the covers. Where they then fart, nearly continuously for the entire night, dutch ovening us.
c) on my pillow next to my head snoring like a lumberjack who swallowed a chainsaw while suffering from sleep apnea and a head cold.

2) I also have to share the bed with Roberto. 'Nuff said.

The dogs are also great at sleeping diagonally and KICKING in their sleep. Generally directly in the gut (OR while I am trying to play the keytar in Rock Band, thus ruining a perfect solo. Assholes.). Add all that to the fact that our apartment is hot as hell, and you have a combo for some bad sleep.

Thank god for Ambien.



i am such a good blogger

So, yeah... a year is a totally appropriate amount of time to go between blog posts, right?

That's what I thought.

Truth be told I've been feeling unfunny, chubby and just blah in general, which is not very conducive to blogging. Add to that the fact that I was legit panicking about coming up with something to blog about every day, blog comments and said blog being funny enough. PANICKING.
Um, le me? It's a blog. You have to force Roberto to read it, and most of the rest of your readers are a) nice and/or b) family. So... yeah.
I've decided I will try again, but not pressure myself into posting everyday.... 

Anyway, that's boring as hell. So let's talk about some other things, shall we?

#1) I got an iPhone. And you are an asshole if you aren't playing Draw Something with me. The app is free. It costs you zero dollars to play this game with me. So you have no excuse. Unless you don't have a smart phone. I guess that's the only way I'll forgive your heinous insult.
me. playing draw something. on my iPhone.
2) We moved. Gracias, Mamacita, for letting us crash at the Bay of Buzzards, but Roberto y yo (and the dogs, OBVI) have peaced out to an apartment that is so close to Target I can walk there faster than I can drive there. No shit. It's across the street. And I DID walk there when a giant-ass branch/snow fell from a tree and onto my car WHILE I WAS DUSTING IT OFF AND IT ALMOST KILLED ME. Lucky for me the only thing killed was my rear windshield.
RIP, back windshield. Gone too soon!
3) Roberto got a new job! It sucked.
This sums things up rather nicely.

4) Roberto got ANOTHER NEW JOB! It does not suck. So, word up on that.
He thinks he's so awesome in his dress shirt. At Applebees. Cuz we're ballers.

5) I also have a new job. As you may or may not know I was pet sitting for a while, but that shit was getting old fast. Lucky for me I was able to snag a job at [Name of Company Redacted], and things have been going swimmingly.
Seriously, though, I shouldn't say where I work, because if a client ever stumbled across this blog they may not come to [Name of Company Redacted] ever again because, FOR REAL? I am a crazy mo fo.

6) I am pretending to be an adult and doing things like cleaning, laundry and cooking. Like a goddamn domestic boss. Although, some meals have worked out well... my attempt at a jello mold (circa the 50's) was an epic fail.
The jello is 70% still in the mold. This is not good.
Also, the cream cheese did not stay between the layers of jello, as I anticipated that it would, but instead floated to the top like a dead body in the Hudson at the beginning of a Law and Order episode. Seriously, I'm never jogging in New York (hahahahahahahahahahahaha- jogging!). You either find a dead body, or you are the dead body amiright???

So, yeah, that's fun, right? I hope 2012 has been nice to you so far!



the thing about nice weather is...

There are way more people out.

Now, listen, I like people well enough.  I'm just wary of conversations with strangers/people I don't know well.  I either get sucked into conversations that go on for 1.5 MILLION hours (Like the guy from Pocasset, or those weirdos at the deli), or this happens:

Lady: (who is wearing high heeled boots and a skirt on the beach, who I wave at, [With my hand that has a bag full of my dog's poo in it.  Shit. Make 9 millionth mental note to carry poo bag in the other hand so I stop waving at people with poo.  Haha... I just said shit while I was talking about poo.  Hahaha.] but she doesn't start talking to me until just after I pass her.  So I have to turn around to talk to her) "What kind of dogs are those?"
Me: "A Boston Terrier and a French Bulldog."
Lady: "Oh, I have a Boston Terrier." (And yet... you didn't know that Ivan was one?!)
Me: "Oh, that's nice.  They're really nice dogs." *smile*
Lady: *starts to walk away but keeps talking* "Yeah, but mine's really hyper."
Me: "Oh yeah, Ivan used to be really, really hyper when he was little.  But like, as soon as he turned 1, he totally mellowed out.  Well, not totally, I mean, he's still active and he has times when he gets really crazy, especially with my friend Brian.  All he has to do is say his name, and I'm telling you, he goes crazy.  But I mean, in general he's pretty good.  But not with other dogs. He hates other dogs.  Well, except Dash. And he's pretty good around my cousin's dog.  Actually he's usually okay, it's just sometimes he bites.  But not very hard." *Fiiiiiiinnally starting to notice that she is trying to get away from me* "But, he's not too hyper anymore.  OKAY, SAY BYE BOYS!" *LARGE APOLOGETIC SMILE* *WAVES WITH POO* *AGAIN* *WALKS AWAY QUICKLY*
Lady: *Blink, Blink*

 Like I said, it's not like I'm antisocial.  I like socializing.  I'm just fucking terrible at it.  I either have no idea what to say, so there are all these really long awkward pauses, or I have no idea what to say so I RAMBLE LIKE A COMPLETE ASSHOLE. 

Also? It's St. Patrick's Day.  And while I already posted these on facebook, they are worth a second look:



beware the something something something...

Just so we're clear, I knew it wasn't eyes.  And Roberto actually didn't know why it was the 13th, 15th etc.  This was all just for comedic effect.  Also? I missed a lot of apostrophes, but I didn't feel like fixing them and re-uploading them.  So just pretend they are all there. Also? They're peas... not really me and Roberto, so I don't know why I feel like I need to explain this to you.  I just do.