My Resume is Jampacked, What About Yours?

So as of recent, my little resume cup overfloweth. No, not the job experience section, you sillies. The affiliations section. What, you don't have an affiliations section? Well, I do. It's pretty easy. You just join some clubs, and voila! You are affiliated with them. Just like that.

It's pretty spectacular. Plus, when you're home alone at night, clutching a glass of wine, sobbing tears of desperation and loneliness into your previously saltstained down comforter, you can just wipe those eyes dry as you glance upon your plentiful paragraph of affiliations on your expensive Kinko's paper resume.

I am so popular.

I am so included.

I am one of them.

You can use all these affirmations and more in the morning mirror because, you, my friend, are a member. Not a drugstore novel connotation of the term 'member' but the other kind.

Oh and the most important thing of all. If you need to be part of a club and it's not within your coolness capacity, make a branch division club of the one in question. These are often frequently seen in the lower circles.

For instance, rather than being in the ULTIMATE PILLOWFIGHT CLUB, reserved for only those who fight with the purest pillows and hate most people who actually use pillows for sleep, you can be in the Ultimate Pillowfight Club, Branch Division 243756B, which has slightly altered its own standards due to location and member preference. It's that easy.



Here are my affiliations currently (yes, just one. I'm working on them, you see...):

The Gin & Tanqueray Club, President -- (description may/may not have been written by the Misanthropic Writer himself...eeee)

Started in early 2006, the Gin & Tanqueray Club is already a Washington instutition which brings together interns and other young Washington professionals with elderly hacks and has-beens, to say nothing of misanthropic writers, who were once great but are now down on their luck. The resulting melange serves two significant social purposes, bringing much needed therapy to the misanthropes, while imparting the wisdom of their years to the young Turks eager to take their jobs and send them to the Hospice, and the sooner the better.

The money raised from the meetings goes to build a retirement center for misanthropes of all races and ethnic nationalities. The Tanqueray Gin Company, in a much-appreciated demonstration of social commitment, donates $1 to the club's causes for each glass of gin drunken. As the glasses of gin escalate, so does the monetary committment. Anyone drinking a fifth glass of Tanqueray, will be matched by $5 from the Tanqueray Company. Anyone who drinks six or more will have their funeral paid for free by the company.

I believe that the innovative approaches of the G&T club will be copied throughout Washington and become a standard of excellence while at the same time supporting and exhibiting public debauchery.

the eventual whereabouts of the G&T club, once proper funding comes through

And most recently...I received this invitation:

"In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my mind ever since.
"'Whenever you feel like criticizing any one,' he told me, 'just remember that all the people in this world haven't had the advantages that you've had.'" [GG 1:1-2]

So began the book that would define a generation and change the face of American literature. In the eighty-one years since it was first published, The Great Gatsby has transcended the ranks of the novel to become the scripture of America mythopoetics.

It is high time the Gatsby was studied as such. So Revs. Intern Chris's Friend and Intern Chris are founding the world's first Gatsby Study, in which we will examine this text in the manner that it deserves.

This is not a book club, as the book never changes. Instead will examine the Gatsby in the manner of scriptural reading, sometimes spending the entire hour on a handful of sentences until we have decoded their meaning. Though we hasten to assure you that probing the mind of Fitzgerald is, if not impossible, damn near it.

All you need is a copy of the Gatsby and a bottle of wine. Our catechism encourages the use of alcohol to transcend worldly thoughts and become closer to the mind of Fitzgerald, who was, admittedly, usually trashed himself.

Sincerely,
Revs. Intern Chris and Intern Chris's Friend



Excellent. I can feel myself getting more popular, worldly and socially aware by the second.

And in case you think I'm getting too uppity (I probably am) but also I just ate an animal cracker that possibly had asbestos on it. Oh well, you win some, you lose some. Brain cells, I mean.


this camel definitely had some asbestos interactions.

Puddles and Muddles

ugh. as someone who very rarely opened her mouth from preschool to 8th grade, with the slight emergence of a cognitive being in high school, i have to say, this having an opinion thing is hard. i never feel justified in having any, most of the time. so i just have mine. and then people ask me to explain them, and i get all muddled. because i really don't know shit about shit. i just know how i feel. and i guess i do blindly hold some of mine because of what i thought i learned in the media. so i'm going to have to do some research and figure out why i have certain opinions, and make sure i know some shit about shit. but i'm sure i'll be missing some crucial element. there is always some crucial element missing.

these men both have opinions and know how to use them

seated concerts are weird. though still not averse to rocking out, thank goodness.


i can't wait until my peppy dance/muscletone instructor superficially invigorates me with enthusiasm. this lady is truly a miracle worker. you could be hunched over in extreme respiratory pain, and she will make you, for a brief instant, feel transitory bliss. i am very excited for these choreographed moments, though they are few and far between. mostly i seethe as she chirps.

gym class standouts

The other day I was running and it was raining. I passed a tiny boy in his bright blue rainjacket playing with a puddle.
"Hi!" he yelled, making me pause my efforts.
"Hello," I said.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"I am running," I said, "What are you doing?"
"I am playing with this puddle," he stated authoritatively but he got quite distracted again in the wonders of the puddle as he was illustrating his work.
It was a lovely thing.


from Oscar Wilde's "The Importance of Being Ernest"...as given to me by Intern Chris.

CECILY. I think your frankness does you great credit, Ernest. If you
will allow me, I will copy your remarks into my diary.

ALGERNON. Do you really keep a diary? I'd give anything to look at it. May I?

CECILY. Oh no. You see, it is simply a very young girl's record of
her own thoughts and impressions, and consequently meant for
publication.

Oh, the tingly webs we weave on our face

this morning, i saw 4 old men playing doubles tennis. it was comical. they were all sparks of their former youth, still smoldering but not quite zipping around as much. and one of them tried to serve the ball. and then the ball hit his head instead of the other side of the court. and then one of the old men on the other side of the net started yelling at him to serve it 'like he showed him!' and then little mr. server starts giving him a piece of his mind about what he'll show him, oh yes he will. and then one of them saw me watching. and then they all turned to look. and i pretended to be busy with something. continue the game, gentlemen. as you were.

the anna kournikova of geriatric tennis

yeah so remember my zit diagnosis from yesterday? yeah, well, i think this dermatological malformation deserves its own zipcode. when i woke up this morning, the swelling underneath the epicenter had increased its diameter by 300%. that's right. three times its size. i wish i was kidding. but it's no zit, my fritters, in fact, i would even wager to say it's a BOIL. i have a boil on my forehead. highly irregular. it's either that or a spiderbite. maybe i should put up a counter as to when all the little baby spiders will come gooshing out of my brain area...in the meantime, the red mountain (as i have now fondly named it) keeps me grounded.

i will not throw a hissy fit when someone edits my writing. i will not throw a hissy fit when someone edits my writing. i will not throw a hissy fit when someone edits my writing. well, it's the thought that counts. though the fit has been thrown.

the recession of the tantrum

my coworker is sending in questions to the washington post interactive chat about what is appropriate to wear in the workplace. he's using our names so as to seem like more than one person.

questions thus far submitted:

1. is it ok to wear lumberjack shirts in the workplace?
2. my girlfriend and i have this argument all the time. do i need to wash my hair every single day?
3. how can i tastefully dress to account for my big delicious booooooooty? i used 8 o's because it's that big.

guess which one was sent with my name backwards. just guess.


some junk in the trunk

Once You Pop, the Anguish Continues

this zit on my forehead is really nothing to pooh-pooh. it's inflaming my whole face. when i scrunch up my eyebrows in concern, i feel its oily wrath. when i press it lightly with my finger, it screams with malevolent irritation. if my zit had a middle finger, it would be giving it to me. permanently.


GROSS. please leave the premises of my face IMMEDIATELY, if not sooner.

Unclogging the Pores of Humanity One Laugh at a Time

do you all mean to say there are actually people out there who eat chinese leftovers hot? what is better than a cold slimy noodle? answer me that!

my first column is published. weeehoooooo. i also have a $25 paycheck. seeing as how this is my first income in the past 3 months, i have been continually wetting myself out of sheer ecstasy. i will probably treat myself to 2.5 drinks later this week just to get the heady feeling of blowing cash.


so yesterday i did another open mike stand up gig and it went surprisingly well. it was crazy. crazy awesome. i told my not-so-made-up joke about the guy who sent me some indian jokes he wrote for me. that went over well. i think i got the sympathy minority card. the thing i'm not understanding yet though is what exactly makes the audience laugh based on what i say. yeah, it seems like something that seems pretty crucial to telling jokes. but i'm totally out of tune. i just get up there and go "blah blah blahhhhhhhh" and hope they laugh at all. i really don't pay attention to where they laugh or why they laugh. next time, i will take my little tape recorder. that reminds me, i still want one of those pen recorders. this has been an ongoing desire since i was 8. and now, i'm in an even less plausible position to get one.

beyond crazy awesome

oh but, when the audience was making "awwwww" noises because i was playing the poor little don't-box-me-in-by-the-color-of-my-skin card, i was thinking of saying "you know what would really make me feel better? if you changed those awwwws to haaaaaas."


also the host called me Oooh-parna instead of Uh-parna. it certainly made me sound that much more scintillating.

in conclusion, my current work task, assigned to me last week, is getting some cumulative information to help write up/produce someone's obituary. i'm somewhat behind on the task so i spent all weekend hoping to goodness this person did not die so i would not be screwed. yes, it was an interesting time.

postscript: i told my mother i don't wash my face. she got this new face-cleaning scrub. and she wanted me to try it out. she was horrified when she learned i don't wash my face and queried as to the justification of such an abhorrence. i told her that people tell me i have nice skin. and i don't do anything to maintain it. so why should i start doing anything? she, in the way only a mother can, forced the face scrub on me with a cotton swab. and i did feel some lovely tingling sensations in the process. needless to say, today i have a huge inflamed zit on my forehead. coincidence? don't make me come to your house and clog your pores with so-called cleaning solutions. my face exists in a happy equilibrium of dirt and air. best to leave such natural wonders untouched by the wiles of man.

you're not fooling anybody with your refreshed look

Who Knew?

every time i point out some strange physical attribute in some human being, my mother names the medical condition. apparently even slightly crooked foreheads are genetic maladies. i wish perfect features were physical anomalies too. hahaha.



yesterday i got hit on via a wrong number. someone called and asked for sophia. i told them it was a wrong number. and he said, "but wait. you sound cute. where are you?" i said, "are you serious?" and he said, "yeah i'm serious. where are you?" since he had a 201 area code (new jersey)...i was pretty certain i was in the clear...so i was like "i'm in d.c." and he said "i have relatives in d.c., i'll definitely be swinging by there soon. what are you doing right now?" i didn't say anything. then he was like "you must be feeling awkward. you think this is awkward?" uhhhhh "yes this is awkward." "ok i'll let you go then." "yes." yes, i think that was for the best.

one serious bollywood hottie:

Painting the Credit Card Red

plans for the evening FEATURING extreme sloth.


meet friends for dinner out. 75% of proceeds from the check go to booze.

buy outfit to go out in at store near restaurant. preferably off of sale rack.

touch up makeup at a makeup store using sample products.

betcha didn't know i'm broke!

Let Them Eat Free Bread

so the gin and tanqueray club met again last night. it was just the writer and i. an unprecedented event. we were both two sheets to the wind. we discussed a plethora of topics including finding lost parents, the deleterious effects of drinking and african countries. here was his e-feedback to me this morning:

"you made me laugh several times, and I am a very dour and sour figure.
In fact a Dour and Sour is my favorite drink."

ahhhhh. finally, validation and praise from someone who's a legitimate adult and not a parent.


so i went out to dinner last night with a male companion. for the first time. and we went to bertucci's. as soon as we were within 5 feet of the restaurant, my date started explaining everything anyone ever wanted to know about the cuisine at bertucci's.

i told him i was a vegetarian, and he was like, "i'm sure we can find something for you to eat." then when we got our menus, he pointed to all the pizzas and said, "these are all pizzas. you can pick out which one you want. look for one without meat." ahahahahaaha. thanks for the tip.

then he got really excited about the bread. and said, "they're going to give us some bread. i really like the bread." i guess he thought i wasn't familiar with restaurants and their bread policies. then we got the bread. and it came with a little dish. and he said, "oh this here is OLIVE OIL." mmmmmhmm, i see.

finally i couldn't hold back anymore and i said, "you know, i have been to bertucci's before." and then he looked so crestfallen, so sad, so very sad, and he said "and you let me go on and on and on?" and i said "well, i've only been to one before, and it was waaaaaay up north. i'm sure it was totally different." and then he looked happy again and said, "yes. i'm sure it was very very different." then i stuffed some bread in my mouth so as to prevent further dreamkilling.


this interview anecdote will be told through a method called Yay/Boo Bear as taught to me by a very dear though very flaky friend of mine.

Yay/Boo Bear says, "Aparna had a job interview today." YAYYYYY!
Yay/Boo Bear says, "Aparna was 35 minutes late to her job interview." BOOOOOO.
Yay/Boo Bear says, "Aparna's interviewer said it's ok, it's a very confusing area. We'll have the interview anyway." YAYYYYYYY!
Yay/Boo Bear says, "Aparna's interviewer says Aparna has no experience for this job." BOOOOOOO.
Yay/Boo Bear says, "Aparna's interviewer tells Aparna to look through an issue of the publication and brainstorm some follow-up story angles." YAYYYYYYYY!
Yay/Boo Bear says, "Aparna's interviewer goes to a meeting while Aparna does this and abandons her for 35 minutes!" BOOOOOOOOO [i.e., payback].
Yay/Boo Bear says, "Aparna's interviewer comes back and finishes up the interview. It doesn't go horribly!" YAYYYYYY!
Yay/Boo Bear says, "Aparna's interviewer then wraps up interview by saying 'So actually this position isn't actually available anymore.'" BOOOOOOO.
C'mere Bear, I have some words for you.

ehhhhhhhhhhhhhh to you, Yay/Boo.

how come when you really want cake, it's nobody's birthday in the office? HUH?! explain me that.

happy birthday to my inner cakemonster.

well, instead, my coworker and i are going to split a burrito. hot diggity dog.

Wanna Fight/Talk/Make a Chart/Pout About It?

so i went to this seminar on resolving conflict here in the building. and we learned all about the four main types of ways people deal with conflict.

there are four types:

aggressive - my way or the highway! *punches hole through wall* any questions?


persuasive - my way or the highway, and let me explain why in a never-ending wordy manner. once i am done, you will be asleep, and i will have won.

introspective - let's talk this out. my way is right, but i will be diplomatic about it. the world is stupid and i must treat it like a small child. bears its tantrums and self-absorption whilst i, the rational one, truly find a pulse on these issues.

avoidant - my way is right, but i'm not saying nothing. i'll just be passive-aggressive later. heathens, all of you! *inner rage festers and drips hole through wall of sanity*

muhaahahahaahaaha

woohoo. though some people fit nicely into one of these nicely-illustrated categories, some people situationally shift...so don't go all jumping down my throat about trying to box your shifty ass in or nothing.

the best part of the seminar was the lady at the end who asked a question about how to confront her coworker who talked too loudly. apparently not just to convey anger but to convey happiness, or really anything. this lady was clearly of the avoidant type because she looked so stressed out just trying to tell us about her coworker's voice volume problemo. and then when people gave suggestions as to how she should confront this woman, she carefully noted down exactly what they said she should say. until, finally, this other lady, probably of the aggressive school of thought, goes "JUST TELL HER!!!" and a silence fell upon the room. and then the facilitator goes "very good. anyone else?" phew, nice save, lady.

you would think it ended there but no, then this other lady talked about how she has a loud-voice affliction herself, and it's a very delicate matter that must be approached with the utmost decorum. which was an indirect "IN YOUR FACE" to the outburst lady. oh conflict. you're such a tease.

in other news, i had a freak attack this afternoon about still not having any gainful employment since my internship ends next week. it's weird how when you're on the unemployed side of the fence, everything seems so far away. and then once you have a job, you start making demands and complaints like you have a birthright to these privileges. right now, i'd be happy flossing people's teeth if it provided dental coverage. a tooth for a tooth.

Fans and Shit

wow. since we last spoke, things have surely been hitting the fans. all kinds of fans. all kinds of things.

the first order of business: the misanthropic writer...now signs his emails m.w.
this is because intern chris told him about my blog, and he could be reading it right this moment! (i won't flatter myself though)...anyway, he's all ready for our highway joy trip involving XM laugh radio...

here is what he had to say...

"i cleared our proposed beltway jounrey with all the federal and state
regulations, submitted the permit application to the epa and the clean
air people;

the xm bill is paid and comedy is being emitted on almost a daily basis."


finally, a mentor who understands me.

i responded: "i'm very excited about this laugh radio field trip. do i have to sign a permission slip??"

he responded:
"if you could bring your vaccination records with you tonight that would be helpful.

Also i require an implantable RFID device, recommended brand Veri-chip, to be in place in case of accident so that you can be transported to the nearest mushroom.

Please wear comfortable shoes, which you may kick off in the car.

In case of a Beltway traffic jam, you should bring a copy of Tristram Shandy: The Lemony Snicket version below is okay."

what a catch, this guy.

the second order of business: the construction people have returned to our work area. they are literally drilling into the walls that surround our little table cluster. i was a cad and shouted over the noise, "maybe i should just start competing with this drill for noise level!" it's funny because while the co-workers and i make strangle faces/finger gun to head gestures and YELL LOUDLY during the drilling, the construction workers talk in normal voices and seem to understand each other fine, drill or no drill. it's inhumane, these conditions.


third order of business: my mother forwarded me an internet video from CONAN. my mother is one hip lady.

fourth order of business: the cough is leaving the building. i would be sad but it's apparently decided to leave in a giant fanfare of liquid mucous and tissue paper, so condolences will not be necessary.

is it really necessary to get attractive people even for runny nose photos? i feel it detracts from the message.

Behold the Power of Cereal Bars

this is a definite afternoon pick-me-up

We're All Such Children

what's wrong? feeling emotional but no one wants to hear it? join the club.

if i have to deal with one more person who's like "LALALALALALAAAAAA i can say whatever i want about you, but you can't say anything back, LALALALALALAAAAAAAA," i might have to call in the logic police.

it's pretty unreal.

and what's even more unreal is that was ME doing it earlier this week.

if candid people don't have to apologize for being candid, than sensitive people shouldn't have to apologize for being sensitive. hypocrisy! all of it! foiled by my own traps. i set out a rat trap and i checked it this morning, and i was IN IT with cheese nibbles all over my face.

hahahahahaha. the irony is too great. i might just have a meltdown. well, i learned my lesson now. people can judge you all they want, but just because they say it, doesn't mean it's true. self-deception is the greatest paradise. no truth parade is going to be allowed to march through my town. not while i'm still mayor. i won't have it. the militia is geared up and ready to laughing-gas us back into illusion.

My Other Job is Hacking

i've been suffering from this smoker's cough as of recent. no, i do not smoke nor have i ever but i have this racking cough thanks to some strange bug i picked up who knows where. anyway. it's led to several public coughing spasms. and has proved resistant to many a cough drop and swig of water. and when i try and hold it in, i start making these huffing noises like a football player getting hit in the stomach repeatedly. anyway, it also keeps me up at night.

soooo this morning my dad wordlessly came in my room, stuck a bottle of robitussin in my hand and deposited a cough drop in my still-sleeping mouth. this was his way of saying GET BETTER. this is also nature's (not NURTURE's) way of saying "if you do not choke on this cough drop while you are still sleeping, you may pass on to the next level of life." miraculously, when i woke up three hours later, the cough drop was hibernating in the corner of my cheek burning a hole of honey lemon-flavored menthol into my gums.

remember in 2nd grade when cough drops were candy?

oh this just in. my cough? yeah now there's a whistle at the end. when i cough i whistle at the end...or rather my lungs make this whistling noise. my parents are somewhat concerned about this perpetual cough. i'm so thrilled i've finally impressed my parents with some form of bad health. when your parents are both doctors, you must have a true medical oddity or severity to draw any attention from them whatsoever. they put a humidifier in my room, are considering antibiotics and keep calling me things like pooboo and booloo. this is very nice. i am having very little incentive to get better. oh except for that i keep spazzing out in public places, and people keep saying "are you ok?" today's notable place that received a good ole germ spraying was the drug aisle at the grocery store (yeah irony).

Google This

groaaaaan...c'mon google....are you going to make our children next based on algorithms??

Google Continues Making Humanity Obsolete

it was an april fool's joke. i'm stoopid. whooopsie. well there's the link if you missed it the first time.

Slime, High Drama and Other Delicacies

here take these nibbles...

- okra is one of the greatest vegetables i have ever had the pleasure of cooking with BECAUSE once you start cooking it, each little piece starts emitting this sappy slime until the entire concoction is slathered in a web of veggie saliva. and it all looks like some kind of mutant spawn. it's sooo 3rd grade science experiment meets Alien. unbelievable B-list entertainment for the kitchen and delicious, not in a grand way but in a "i'm slimy but i'm actually tasty" way.

nummy nummy okra a la slime.

- today while i was on a small trot through the neighborhood, i finally achieved my goal of stumbling upon a bevy of high school potsmokers. i timed it so that i would go for my jog after school was out and i went along a little nature path that afforded supreme views for enjoying a joint. and sure enough, i hadn't gone far when i spotted four little bodies sitting on the side of a bridge, their legs a-swinging passing a little white joystick up and down the line.

but sharing is caring...

- my parents have taken the tv hostage to watch a never-ending bollywood movie. they've been watching it every night since sunday faithfully. and there is no ending in sight. as far as i can tell, people have died while fighting in the mud, ladies have cried on more than one occasion, sad violin music has played, people have danced happily betwixt all the tragedy, there have been weddings, new romances blossoming, loud slapstick comedy and the plotline "beat[s] on...borne ceaselessly back into the past."

bollywood 4eva...literally.

dialogue from said bollywood movie:
mother to long-lost-son: i'm sorry i shot you.*
son: that's ok. can i just put my head in your lap?
in doing so, he miraculously recovers from a direct bullet wound, and thereafter, gets married

*she didn't recognize he was her son until after she shot him and recognized the special necklace he was wearing. how unfortunate.

Redo the 'Do

panda pedestrians

so twice already today i've crossed the street without checking for traffic. now unlike some of youze, i do consider this an unnecessary health risk and very real problem as the street i've been doing this on is notorious for red light runners. while my nonchalance could be attributed to mere thoughtlessness, the root cause goes a little bit deeper than that.

with the changing of the seasons (finally), comes the desire for change in oneself, or at the very least, something new. and i think what all this restlessness in the form of risky behavior adds up to, in the grander scheme of things, is that i need to get some new highlights up in this mothertangled hair piece of mine. for the love of carrie bradshaw, you can see my roots via remote satellite right now. a new campaign perhaps: get your highlights redone, save your life.

well, though i was feeling iffy about the state of my hair, i did get a nice hearty flirtation from the guy who took my order for a burrito bowl at lunchtime.

first he just leaned over the register until we were pretty much face to face and he didn't even ask what i wanted. he just looked deep into my eyes with a soulful puppy dog look and slightly parted his lips. that was my cue to speak. and as i did, he started smiling, continuing the intense eye contact, and as i kept talking, his smile grew wider and wider until i thought his face would burst at the seams.

then i suddenly noticed something. his pinky finger, on the hand that was clutching the register as he leaned over; it was painted a deep shade of purply blue and the nail was pointy and manicured. now the unclipped pinky fingernail reminds me of a couple of things. 1) drug dealers. and 2) nose pickers. so that kind of ruined the moment. but all in all, nothing more healthy than a little early afternoon coquetry.

Um, No Comment

welcome to the crazy world of people who post comments on internet forums:

in response to illegal immigration --

"The prime consideration with regard to the question of illegal immigration is that the immigrants espouse the same value systems that caused their home nations to fail. The real issue is not racism; people are people. The real issue is that a nation is made or broken by the values embraced by its citizens."

really? because i think you're just absolutely bonkers.

1b. "There have arisen people in my government that have heedfully indebted towards worldly concerns. If they could hear the people of my United States, their inner conjectural cries, they would mourn they would retaliate and have hope. Our copulations are disrupted by socialism. America does have a good heart. Let not God intervene with it. Peace be to our nation that exists right now. But we will need a break, likened to a staleness over much needed jam.

The ages of a judge is swift to besiege US. Socialism should have its limits as, someone once said, the whole world is a Savior. We love our groins when we should encompass upon shaking hands. Participate, yes, but not people. What we, as I hope, Americans lay dear -our daughter & mother of pearl- is shamed within black and golden borders. Weve adopted Blues! Whats next is our heart, guiltily criticized and unrepaired, going South and alleiviating torture. I am not a king though, for your upbringing and your honor. What do you have to offer: a tear of a woman, a fear. Luckily, and of honor, some respect faith. This is what I learned of one, the only one, my Mexican Queen.

But love is not enough. The Story: "I love her, I love her," weve whispered and gestured - knowing me-adoring ti. Unlawfully? I cannot think so when we consider the immigration issue. We differ in strengths. Like the up-down sun and sideways moon. I dont want neither of our stories to be lost, but I told her once: my foundation, I feel, had here been the mantle. I cannot support a cause extended like that.

When my friend Jacob tells me to hit the button, I can relate to his understanding of the loop that grips nations. In the balance, we have the chance to revolutionize the country. But, offhandedly, the peace must be two: inner and outer nation, or the lesser and greater. TRUST ISSUES

The clearity of our perceptions will prove parallel to the speediness to perform some sort of policy, if not action. The sun will rise tomorrow bet your bottom dollar, in the litter box of America, and who recognizes?

Please, please this is a fight of the people, certain It aly is, because ideals differ. POLITICIANS, the birth of our nation, do something to the practice of social overhauls. Jesus is a government, one that examines. Aint I a citizen existing in the Valley right now forgotten. Bligerits.

I read my blues."

um. yeah. i don't know. this sounded evangelical. i leave it to you, the discriminating consumer to make something of it.

in response to a story about a terminal cancer patient (note that the letter is addressed to the patient who passed away in the story) --

"Dear [Mr. Person], Im sorry to hear about your illness.I like to share my idea with you.I believe most cancer is caused by the astronomical calculations when the centralization shifts from its origin to another point adding a bigger range to the calculations creating more unknowns. This is very abstract I dont expet you to follow.
it requires 100 pages of explanations. But the solution Which I recommend it helps remodeling the genetic disorder by putting the axis of equlibrium back to where it should be.Its all in the direction from complexity to simplicity and not vice versa.It deals with the relationship of mass and energy and its management control in the body. Drugs are premetive next to how the body itself can produce the right chemical for the specific body.1st you have the cure,2nd your sprit is your real food,3rd follow this diet.It takes 40 days to set the initialization after you started the diet.Alcohol and chemicals other than food creat a direct connection between parts of the brain which are illegal.Those parts are connected through many complex structures which act as filters and naturally do not permit direct connections.No alcohol, no chemicals, no red meat no chicken no pork no dog pet and fasting every other day from 4:45am to 7:00pm no food or drink.As the body during the fasting changes the mass into energy in only that direction it creates an organized enviornment correcting the bodys growth. Its main source is way beyond DNAs structure.Good luck, The solutions are in the sky where heaven is located."

um, at this point, i don't consider it a far stretch of the imagination to say the Internet may have spawned some members of mankind who, though appearing perfectly normal on the outside, are absolutely operating on distinct planes from the rest of us. perhaps, on planes closer to "the sky where heaven is located." their mental frequent flyer miles are, at this point, through the roof.

It's All About the Story

so i read about people doing all these amazing things via blogs. wild things in crazy places. and then i'm like I WANT TO DO THOSE THINGS. i want to do these great storyworthy things. and then i realize something. these people...most of them are cool for having experienced these things. but most of them are more or less the same person as before they left PLUS all these crazy stories.

yeah of course your experiences change you. but in my interactions with you, you are the same kid except you have all these sexy attention-getting stories. anyway, my point is. if i went and did these crazy things,all i would try and do was to make sure i could tell BANGASS stories (whoops, i think i meant KICKASS, oh well. new word, people) after i came back when out at night so as to raise eyebrows over martinis. because really. it's just one big popularity contest. storywise. "well, when i was taming lions in africa...i noticed we needed some hot sauce to accompany our evening meal. thus began the night that made me the man i am today." how are you supposed to beat that with a commuter horror story? HOW?! it can't be done, folks.

yeah i was the kid who listened to aesop's fables and when asked what the moral was...said "the crow should have been in more a-list films so as to cement his firm superiority over the fox despite his lack of smarts. he was OBVI hotter all along, naw mean?"


usually when someone tells me a great story, i rack my memory to match theirs point by point. that's why i was crushed when a good friend of mine revealed to me, after i was smitten by his virtuosity at life adventures, that he tended to embellish his stories, and by embellish, he meant MAKE UP SIGNIFICANT DETAILS IN STORIES and/or replace himself as the main character in stories that happened to his friends. boy was that a buzzkill. you have no idea.

Almost Sorta Kinda Famous

so today i performed a dance downtown at the cherry blossom festival for oodles of tourists, families with babies, conglomerations of fairweather friends (because it was nice today) and the everpresent "still in the honeymoon phase" couples. it was a bollywood-type dance. with full-out costumes and glitz. so a bunch of us girls were walking around like south asian barbies in our chintzy outfits trying to blend in or whatnot. well. that wasn't happening so much. and by so much, i mean, at all. every few feet we walked we were asked to pose for a photograph. it was nice to get the VIP celeb treatment for about 5 minutes but then you were semi-disturbed that the man with the heavy accent and wandering eyes was taking his 5th photograph with your crew. uhhhh. actually, everyone wanted a photo with us. old ladies, girlfriends, kids, sketchy men. it was a regular free-for-all snap it while it was hot.

caution: a dress like this might cause pseudofame.

seeing as how we're now each on 50+ random cameras galloping around the universe, we're hoping if we're lucky we'll end up on one of those websites for YOUNG HOT ASIAN CHIX...i jest.

i am the one not looking at the camera. eesh.

speaking of bad protocol, as my mother and i were crossing the street downtown, this tourbus with "SCENIC TOURS" emblazoned on the side rolled past us. it had tinted windows but not tinted enough for me not to see a whole group of 13 years old boys on the bus jeering at us as they held up a piece of paper to the window that just read "PENIS." luckily my mother didn't notice. i remember that game from middle school though. amateurs. when the boys i knew played it, you had to yell the word...not just write it down.

Cool People Celebrate April Fool's One Day Late

i can't believe i didn't do anything to celebrate april fool's day. yesterday was just a big filthy haze of being fatigued, producing snot overtime and watching sad basketball games (well, sad from where i was sitting anyway). anyway, everyday is a fool's day. but just to be societally conducive, yesterday was the one-year anniversary of one mr. mitch "the ultimate comedian" hedberg's death...so in memory of him....some more hedbergisms...

"I want to be a rebellious McDonald's owner. Cheeseburgers... NOPE... we got spaghetti!


I want to get a job as someone who names kitchen appliances. Toaster, refrigerator, blender....all you do is say what the shiit does, and add "er". I wanna work for the Kitchen Appliance Naming Institute. Hey, what does that do? It keeps shit fresh. Well that's a fresher....I'm going on break.


I got to write these jokes. So, I sit at the hotel at night and I think of something that's funny. Or, If the pen is too far away, I have to convince myself that what I thought of wasn't funny.


You know that Pepperidge Farm bread, that stuff is fancy. That stuff is wrapped twice. You open it, and then still ain't open. That's why I don't buy it, I don't need another step between me and toast.


This product that was on TV was available for four easy payments of $19.95. I would like a product that was available for three easy payments and one complicated payment. We can't tell you which payment it is, but one of these payments is going to hard.


You know when they have a fishing show on TV? They catch the fish and then let it go. They don't want to eat the fish, they just want to make it late for something.


I would imagine if you could understand Morse Code, a tap dancer would drive you crazy.


I don't wear a watch because I want my arms to weigh the same. So if somebody asks me what time it is, I have to tell them something that is going on. "What time is it, Mitch?" "Uh, that guy is eating a hamburger." "Shit, I had to be somewhere..."


I went to the park and saw this kid flying a kite. The kid was really excited. I don't know why, that's what they're supposed to do. Now if he had had a chair on the other end of that string, I would have been impressed.


At my hotel room, my friend came over and asked to use the phone. I said "Certainly." He said "Do I need to dial 9?" I say "Yeah. Especially if it's in the number. You can try four and five back to back real quick."


I played golf... I did not get a hole in one, but I did hit a guy. That's way more satisfying...


I saw a human pyramid once. It was totally unnecessary.


This shirt is dry clean only. Which means... It's dirty.


I bought a doughnut and they gave me a receipt for the doughtnut... I don't need a receipt for the doughnut. I give you money and you give me the doughnut, end of transaction. We don't need to bring ink and paper into this. I can't imagine a scenario that I would have to prove that I bought a doughnut. To some skeptical friend, Don't even act like I didn't buy a doughnut, I've got the documentation right here... It's in my file at home. ...Under "D".


My friend was walking down the street and he said, "I hear music." As if there is any other way of taking it in. I tried to taste it, but it did not work.


A snake bite emergency kit is a body bag.


Sometimes I wake up and I think I should start wearing a beret, but I don't do it though. One day I'm gonna though. You bet your ass, I will have a beret on. That's ridiculous, but it's true. I always fight with wearing a beret.


A minibar is a machine that makes everything expensive. When I take something out of the minibar, I always fathom that I'll go and replace it before they check it off, but they make that stuff impossible to replace. I go to the store and ask, "Do you have coke in a glass harmonica? ...Do you have individually wrapped cashews?"


I'm against picketing, but I don't know how to show it.


It's hard to dance if you just lost your wallet. "Whoa! Where's my wallet? But, hey this song is funky..."


It's very dangerous to wave to people you don't know because what if they don't have hands? They'll think you're cocky.


Someone handed me a picture and said, "This is a picture of me when I was younger." Every picture of you is when you were younger. "...Here's a picture of me when I'm older." Where'd you get that camera man?


If I was a locksmith, I'd be pimping that out man. I'll trade you a free key duplication for... That joke made me laugh before I could finish it, which is good, because it had no ending.


I want to be a race car passenger: just a guy who bugs the driver. "Say man, can I turn on the radio? You should slow down. Why do we gotta keep going in circles? Can I put my feet out the window? Man, you really like Tide..."


I wrote a letter to my dad - I wrote, "I really enjoy being here," but I accidentally wrote rarely instead of really. But I still wanted to use it so i crossed it out and wrote, "I rarely drive steamboats, dad - there's a lot of shit you don't know about me. Quit trying to act like I'm a steamboat operator." This letter took a harsh turn right away...


I don't own a cell phone or a pager. I just hang around everyone I know, all the time. If someone needs to get ahold of me they just say, "Mitch," and I say, "what" and turn my head slightly...


Alcoholism is a disease, but it's the only one you can get yelled at for having. Goddamn it Otto, you are an alcoholic. Goddamn it Otto, you have Lupus... one of those two doesn't sound right.


I was at this casino minding my own business, and this guy came up to me and said, "You're gonna have to move, you're blocking a fire exit." As though if there was a fire, I wasn't gonna run. If you're flammible and have legs, you are never blocking a fire exit.


I like cinnamon rolls, but I don't always have time to make a pan. That's why I wish they would sell cinnamon roll incense. After all I'd rather light a stick and have my roommate wake up with false hopes.


People teach their dogs to sit, it's a trick. I've been sitting my whole life, and a dog has never looked at me as though he thought I was tricky.


My friend said to me, "You know what I like? Mashed potatoes." I was like, "Dude, you have to give me time to guess. If you're going to quiz me you have to insert a pause."


I used to do drugs. I still do, but I used to, too.


An escalator can never break. It can only become stairs. You would never see an "Escalator Temporarily Out Of Order" sign, just "Escalator Temporarily Stairs. Sorry for the convenience."


I used to be a hot-tar roofer. Yeah, I remember that day...


A severed foot is the ultimate stocking stuffer.


I think foosball is a combination of soccer and shishkabobs.


That would be cool if you could eat a good food with a bad food and the good food would cover for the bad food when it got to your stomach. Like you could eat a carrot with an onion ring and they would travel down to your stomach, then they would get there, and the carrot would say, "It's cool, he's with me."


If you had a friend who was a tightrope walker, and you were walking down a sidewalk, and he fell, that would be completely unacceptible...


I know a lot about cars. I can look at a car's headlights and tell you exactly which way it's coming.


I have a cheese-shredder at home, which is its positive name. They don't call it by its negative name, which is sponge-ruiner. Because I wanted to clean it, and now I have little bits of sponge that would melt easily over tortilla chips...


If carrots got you drunk, rabbits would be messed-up.


I bought a seven dollar pen because I always lose pens and I got sick of not caring.


My sister wanted to be an actress, but she never made it. She does live in a trailer. She got half way. She's an actress, she just never gets called to the set.


Every time I go and shave, I assume there is somebody else on the planet shaving as well, so I say, "I'm gonna go shave too."


Why are there no during pictures.


I have an underwater camera just in case I crash my car into a river, and at the last minute I see a photo opportunity of a fish that I have never seen.


I had a velco wallet in a casino. That sound annoyed the hell out of me. Whenever I lost money, and I opened the wallet, it was like the sound of my addiction.


Sometimes I fall asleep at night with my clothes on. I'm going to have all my clothes made out of blankets.


I type a 101 words a minute. But it's in my own language.


My apartment is infested with koala bears. It's the cutest infestation ever. Way better than cockroaches. When I turn on the light, a bunch of koala bears scatter, but I don't want them too. I'm like, "Hey... Hold on fellows... Let me hold one of you, and feed you a leaf." Koala bears are so cute, why do they have to be so far away from me. We need to ship a few over, so I can hold one, and pat it on its head.


I wish I could play little league now. I'd be way better than before.


I never joined the army because at ease was never that easy to me. Seemed rather uptight still. I don't relax by parting my legs slightly and putting my hands behind my back. That does not equal ease. At ease was not being in the military. I am at ease, bro, because I am not in the military.


I had a bag of fritos, they were texas grilled fritos. These fritos had grill marks on them. They remind me of something, when we used to fire up the barbeque and throw down some fritos. I can still see my dad with the apron on, better flip that frito, dad, you know how I like mine.


I opened-up a yogurt, underneath the lid it said, "Please try again." because they were having a contest that I was unaware of. I thought maybe I opened the yogurt wrong. ...Or maybe Yoplait was trying to inspire me... "Come on Mitchell, don't give up!" An inspirational message from your friends at Yoplait, fruit on the bottom, hope on top.


I hate flossing, I wish I just had one long curvy tooth.


The next time I move I hope I get a real easy phone number, something like 2222222. People will ask, "Mitch, how do I get a hold of you?" I'll say, "Just press two for a while, when I answer, you'll know that you've pressed two enough."


My lucky number is 4 billion, that doesn't come in real handy when your gambling. I'm gonna need some more dice, 4 billion divided by 6, at least.


A waffle is like a pancake with a syrup trap.


You know they call corn-on-the-cob, "corn-on-the-cob", but that's how it comes out of the ground. They should just call it corn, and every other type of corn, corn-off-the-cob. It's not like if someone cut off my arm they would call it "Mitch", and then re-attached it, and call it "Mitch-all-together".


I like buying snacks from a vending machine because food is better when it falls. Sometimes at the grocery, I'll drop a candy bar so that it will achieve its maximum flavor potential.


On a traffic light yellow means yield, and green means go. On a banana, it's just the opposite, yellow means go ahead, green means stop, and red means, where'd you get that banana?


My roommate says, "I'm going to take a shower and shave, does anyone need to use the bathroom?" It's like some weird quiz where he reveals the answer first.


I think Bigfoot is blurry, that's the problem. There's a large out-of-focus monster roaming the countryside.


I wrote my friend a letter with a highlighting pen, but he could not read it, he thought I was trying to show him certain parts of a piece of paper.


I use the word totally too much. I need to change it up and use a word that is different but has the same meaning. Mitch do you like submarine sandwhiches? All-encompassingly...


I think pickles are cucumbers that sold out. They sold their soul to the devil, and the devil is dill...


...and then at the end of the letter I like to write "P.S. - this is what part of the alphabet would look like if Q and R were eliminated.


I got my hair highlighted, because I felt some strands were more important than others.


I don't have a girlfriend. But I do know a woman who'd be mad at me for saying that.


The depressing thing about tennis is that no matter how good I get, I'll never be as good as a wall.


My friend asked me if I wanted a frozen banana, I said 'No, but I want a regular banana later, so, Yeah.' "

mitch, you're still missed.

I'm Glad I Don't Have to Pay for a Subscription

ok i am now burning the midnight oil by looking at photos of really enticing food. food is the new porn. yesssssss. bout time. i mean, dayaaaaam gina.
even toast makes me all hot and bothered.











and geezous...

Weekend Phlegm Leaves Me In Stitches, Among Other Things

oh, what a difference a day makes. i got sick about a week ago to this very night. within 24 hours, the illness vanished without a trace. actually, with some traces of phlegm and sputtery respiration. but still, it was on its way out. needless to say, i got cocky. yeah, that was me out on the town tuesday, wednesday and thursday nights. i was boozing and cruising and wining and dining and dancing...and guess who wanted back in? that's right. sicky. the little friend i thought was just visiting for a few days. is back in town. at the exact time he showed up last week. can you believe he wanted to book me two weekends in a row?! what a loser. what a looooooser. i'm soooo erasing his digits out of my cellphone after he pulled this little trifling number (enjoy the pun, enjoy it).

cupcakes have nothing to do with being sick. but they are beyond awesome.

lucky for me, the NCAA semifinal games didn't require much activity on my part this eventide. i sighed when mason lost. i whimpered over LSU. at least jj won the lowe's award. he could improve many a home. yeah i said it. i love men in uniform. i know it's cliched but i have a weakness. turtles too.

i ate their cereal. that's loyalty.

yesterday i got out of work at 11pm. when i was walking to the subway with some coworkers, we bumped into a gaggle of ladies out on the town. but apparently they weren't synchronized enough because as we were trying to pass through the trendy pack (seriously the skimpy top + faded jeans + funky belt/flats combos were through the roof...one girl even had a side ponytail! a side ponytail!), one of them [the gang leader] squawked "meeting. we need to call a meeting right now! step to the side, ladies." on the agenda for tonight: hammer hammer bang bang. just kidding. maybe their agenda was more altruistic. i didn't stick around to find out.
these girls don't know it. but they're about to have a meeting. before the night is over. it's inevitable.

furthermore, the evening held my father giving me a sewing lesson. that's right. my dad knows how to sew. and cook. and dust. and lawnmow. and build shelves. and sandpaper wood. and garden. and not sleep. he loooooves being useful. so i needed to pull the hem up on this skirt so i asked for his aid. not for him to do it but for me to learn. because yo. i need to learn this stitching business. after a few sessions of measuring and modeling and threading and unthreading and tentative hemming, he started getting angry at my skirt. then he started cussing out whoever in the hell made the skirt. then he angrily queried to me "who in the hell makes these kinds of skirts?!" then i realized the line of thread was weaving up and down on the fabric more than a drunken chap on his way down the sidewalk. and since i'm grateful and supportive, i held up the fabric and said "what the heck is this?" and he said "it's their fault. who makes skirts like this?!" and then he finally threw the skirt on the table. and walked away. he walked away. he'll have it to me by open of business tomorrow morning, he says. because tomorrow morning. there will be daylight. and coffee. and second chances.
one of the main reasons sewing machines don't get respect as objects of utility

so in reponse to the cough that wouldn't die. my parents decided to go all mother country on me and bring out the old world medical treatments, despite their both claiming to be doctors of the non-quack variety. my mother prepared for me a little pot of scalding water. and then instructed me to go get a towel. so i did. and then she made me put the towel over my head and sit in front of the pot of boiling water.

but first. there's always a first. first she had to add the yellow powder to the water to make the concoction magically powerful. and she did it. and i kid you not. the water started bubbling. and foaming. even my mother looked shocked at this point. and then the water turned blood red and settled at a frightening orange tone. the likes of which i did not want all up in my face. which is exactly where it was going. and then my ma she says "quick! before the vapors subside, put the towel over the pot and start inhaling with deep breaths." so i did. expecting nothing short of a very large miracle. you want to know what i got?

well first of all, you can't see crap under there. not a darn thing. you do feel like your throat is going to burn up because the air is so hot. i squealed and my mother said "don't get too close. i think the water's too hot." great. she didn't even troubleshoot this so-called "treatment" first. anyway, then, at the very least, i was hoping for some hallucinations. because that would have been worth the struggle. nawpe. nada. i did start sweating like a mother until my eyes felt like two squares of butter that were about to fall into the water and scald my face. seriously. if you want to feel some sweaty eyeballs, stick your face under a towel over a pot of steaming water. long story short. i had a coughing spasm shortly before the treatment ended. but my mother claimed they were wet coughs and all the goop was coming up. i'm still skeptical. i did burp several times today and slightly throw up in my mouth each time. that actually was kind of cleansing.

no the QUICKEST vicks is putting your face over a pot of steaming water