Fetch My Flying Monkeys

J and I were in Target this weekend and he said he needed hair gel. They were out of his regular brand, so I picked up another and told him it was just as good, if not better than his. He was skeptical at first, but I assured him it was all basically the same thing. He threw it in the cart. Tuesday afternoon I got a call.

J: "You know that hair gel you picked out? I smell like an old lady. Like roses to be exact."

Me: "It does not smell like roses."

J: "It does too and I bet you did that on purpose."

Me: "What are you saying? That it's all part of my diabolical plan? That I made you get that gel so bees will be attracted to you and your old lady hair? That they'll sting you and your tongue will swell and you'll fall over gasping for air, and you'll try to call out for help, but help won't be there. Is that what you're saying?"

J: (Silence)

Me: (laughs)"Well?"

J: "Umm, no. I was trying to say you just wanted to make fun of the fact that my hair smelled like flowers. And I'm not allergic to bees."

Me: "Oh. Then I have an insurance policy to cancel."

Posted by Laura at 05:08 AM | Permalink | Comments (13) | TrackBacks (0)

Everyone came up to me Monday wanting to discuss George and his WHORE. What a fucking mess. I am done discussing her. I'm sick of her. She just simply does not exist to me anymore. There's nothing more to say.

What I am going to say is, if you're not roasting all of your vegetables, you're doing it wrong.

Here we have Brussels sprouts, sweet potatoes, asparagus and onion. Always throw in some onion. Drizzle with olive oil, pepper, kosher salt and bake.

Words cannot describe the yumminess. You'll never want your veggies cooked any other way.

Apparently this goat still wants to discuss her. Goats are very in tune with people.

Posted by Laura at 05:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (20) | TrackBacks (0)

I watched the doomsday movie "2012" this past weekend. It was alright. The special effects were pretty cool, but the story was pretty lame. It's about a couple of geologists discovering the Earth's core is heating up due to radiation from solar flares and, of course, the government plan is to save themselves and the rich and keeping the rest of the world ignorant about it so everyone doesn't go ape shit and mess up their plans before they can make a run for it. Now that part I truly believe. The part I found hard to swallow was our president STAYS and with a few hours remaining makes a broadcast and tells the world we're all fucked and then they show everyone crying and hugging each other singing Kumbaya and going to church. That's bullshit. Maybe a few folks will be doing that, but I, for one, am going out like a fucking lunatic spider monkey on crack. First thing I'd do is go loot some major electronic store. I'm going to grab a gigantic flat screen tv. Then I'm going to loot a grocery store, and grab all the candy, Cheetos and bacon I can carry. Then while I'm watching "Celebrity Rehab with Dr. Drew" on my looted big screen tv while wearing my stained sweatshirt, fat pants and tiara and eating a bacon sandwich bigger than my head, I'm calling all the people I have ever been forced to be cordial to in my life and I'm going to tell them all what fucking assholes they are, and how I always wanted to stab them dead. I'll end every call with a maniacal laugh, after screaming "BURN IN HELL, MOTHERFUCKER! BURN IN HELL!" Then after I run out of people I know, I'm just going to start random dialing and telling those people the same thing.

That's my end-of-the-world apocalypse plan if I have warning ahead of time. Hopefully it won't turn out to be a false alarm. Gah. Can you imagine? Going back to work after you just told everyone off? I'd have to give back my big screen tv too. Piggly Wiggly would probably file charges. I'd probably be going to prison. I'm pretty sure I could carry and eat enough bacon for it to be a felony.

Posted by Laura at 05:01 AM | Permalink | Comments (14) | TrackBacks (0)

Oh shit. One of them must have been hiding in the limo.

Posted by Laura at 01:17 PM | Permalink | Comments (7) | TrackBacks (0)

I not only have rabies, but I have had bad insomnia for over a week now. This makes me extremely tired and cranky as you can imagine. More than my normal tired and cranky. This is one reason why I sign up for all of the social media apps like Twitter and Facebook, because they can be put on my iPhone and I can use them laying down. I don't blog from my iPhone because iPhone auto-spell is insane and it'll look like a brain-damaged spider monkey wrote it. I mean, more than it does now. Anyway, because I also have Internet ADD, I've pretty much abandoned Twitter and am exclusively on Facebook for now. I've been working some more on my "real" account too. You know, the one where I lie about my big exciting, important life so that people from my high school will be in awe and all jealous of me and shit and want to kill themselves because they can't be awesome like me? Yeah, that one. I have on there now that I live in New York City. I've been scouring the web collecting pictures of New York to put in my albums. I wanted ones that looked like I took them, not some professional jobs. I wanted to stay "real." Because when you're lying like a motherfucker you have to stay "real." Hey, I think I'm going to embroider that on a pillow or something.

P.S. Jack is still getting friend requests and also invitations to join groups in Facebook. One of his invites is to join a group called "I'm Gay and Proud" and the other is "How To Make Love to A Gay Man." Seriously. I'm starting to piece together what he's up too all day when I'm at work. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

P.P.S. Did you know I have an iPhone?

Posted by Laura at 05:11 AM | Permalink | Comments (13) | TrackBacks (0)

Things I Would Have Liked A Dollar For Today

1. I would have liked a dollar for every worker who spent over two hours this morning visiting and chatting and disrupting others before their supervisor came in.

2. I would have liked a dollar for every time someone wants to ride on my lunch order but never comes and asks me if I want lunch when they are ordering.

3. I would have liked a dollar for every car that pulled out in front of me today. It was raining fuckers, you shouldn't do that.

4. I would have liked a dollar for every asshole that pulled out in front of me who was on their cell phone. Unfuckingbelievable.

5. I would have liked a dollar for every car I saw trying to outrun an ambulance/ fire engine/ cop today. Again, it was raining today and that meant lots of emergency rescue personnel were on the roads.

6. I would have liked a dollar for every cat yak/hairball I had to clean up today.

Man, I would have made some serious cash today! And I didn't have to resort to violence. Oh, who the hell am I kidding? I'd take every cent and buy knives so that I could stab, and stab and stab the fuck out of all of them.

P.S. "A high-powered rifle" would have fit in just as well as "a dollar" now that I look at it.

P.S.S. Although I enjoy firing a high-powered rifle as much as the next person, I think stabbing is a better stress reliever. It's more of an aerobic workout too, which is good for the cardiovascular system.

Posted by Laura at 05:09 AM | Permalink | Comments (14) | TrackBacks (0)

Unlike Angelina Jolie and Madonna, I don't go around the world collecting babies. No, I just go to makemebabies.com and pop out as many as I like in a matter of minutes. Seems weird I know, but I don't have to worry about stretch marks, hemorrhoids or an episiotomy to see what a mini-me and some dude mixed together is going to look like. And the best thing is, I can just delete them when I'm tired of looking at their faces. No jail time.

So I went over there like a big ole' fertile whore fresh out of rubbers and experienced the miracle of creating a few babies. Personally, I don't see what the big deal is, but now that I have them my maternal instincts are kicking in and I feel the desire to drag them out in public and force people to look at my babies and tell me how beautiful they are. So look at my beautiful babies and if you feel the need to buy them gifts, like I hear people like to do, their momma prefers cash.

This is the baby Brad Pitt and I had together.

I didn't bother naming her. I'm selling her to Angie.

My next baby is one I had with "I'm Rick James, Bitch."

Yeah, I know Rick James isn't around anymore. Maybe that's why my baby didn't come out quite right. Maybe Rick's DNA was either fucked up from drugs or it wasn't refrigerated correctly. Either way, the kid's a total mess. I named him Worfie.

You think Worfie's strange looking? Look at the baby I had with Marilyn Manson:

Yeah. Spooky. Who would have thunk it? I'd bet there's three sixes on him somewhere. I named him Damien.

Now here is my "special" baby. This is the baby I had with Michael Jackson.

I know. What the fuck? They must not refrigerate those sperm tanks at all. I am just glad I didn't have to squeeze that melon noggin out of my tootie. Jesus. I had high hopes I would get a child with talent so I could quit my job and just manage her career via my diamond encrusted iPhone from Neverland Ranch while riding a unicorn, but I think I'm going to be lucky if she can learn to tie her shoes. Shit. 

They say a mother should never show favoritism. And I know I've only been a parent for maybe a half hour, but it seems longer. More like an hour. With my vast experience as a mother, I can tell you that mothers do have favorites. Here's mommy's favorite widdle precious bundle of joy:

I am not surprised that we make pretty babies together. Not. At. All. It's like God wants us to be together, except c'mon, if you read this blog you know there won't be any babies. We'll just go through the motions of making one. Constantly. Like, ALL THE TIME. Everywhere.

Wait. Where was I? Oh yeah...

So if you're thinking about having a baby, go to makemebabies.com to see what that little shit is going to look like. You can upload a picture of your husband, or boyfriend, or a random guy on the street and see how the baby is going to turn out. Forewarned is forearmed. If I can prevent just one ugly baby from being made, my job here is done. Just say no to ugly baby making.

Posted by Laura at 05:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (11) | TrackBacks (0)

I added another photo to my so-called "real life" Facebook account showing all my so-called "friends" what last year's pool party was like. Not only were there goats, but Elvis made a surprise appearance and T-Rex hogged the Velveeta fountain all day, proving once again that you can do whatever the hell you want when you're God, not to mention a T-Rex.

Posted by Laura at 06:05 AM | Permalink | Comments (9) | TrackBacks (0)

I still have rabies. And something about having rabies makes me bitter and petty. Well okay, I guess I should say it makes me more bitter and petty. Remember that Facebook account I have where people from back home "friended" me then basically ignored me? Yeah, the account where that one fucker even "unfriended" me. Well, I'm redoing it. I am inventing an exciting life where I live in an exciting city, have a fabulous career, tons of marvelous friends and loads of money. I am busy now stealing pictures of other people's fabulous lives and putting them in my photo album. I think I will randomly post little statuses about my traveling to exotic locations and hobnobbing with the rich and famous. I may even create new accounts and invent some friends who will comment back with things like meeting me for Carnival in Rio this year. Shit like that. Right now I announced that I will be flying all my friends to my summer estate this July for a pool party. Here's the photo I posted:

Those fuckers will rue the day they ever ignored me.

Posted by Laura at 05:12 AM | Permalink | Comments (19) | TrackBacks (0)

It was a suck ass day and to top it all off, my rabies came out of remission. When this happens there's nothing to do but post pictures and videos because I am too much of an attention whore to just skip a day of blogging. Aren't you glad?

Know what cures rabies? Baby pygmy goats.

Posted by Laura at 05:12 AM | Permalink | Comments (14) | TrackBacks (0)

1. I am obsessed with owning one of these:

A pygmy goat. I've researched the care and feeding and even priced them. The problem is that I live in the city. I need to move, because my life will not be complete without a pygmy goat in it.

2. I have a new account on Facebook and would like for everyone to "friend" me. I dumped my other account where folks from school were adding me, then ignoring me, THEN "unfriending" me. Fuckers. Click this thingy and "friend" me NOW:

And DO NOT UNFRIEND ME. I don't care how annoying I become. Because believe me, I will become super annoying. I've been having fun on it so far. I am still looking for the quiz that tells you what kind of rancid meat you are. I am guessing I am like week old ground chuck.

3. I had to leave work early Monday because I felt pukey. I still feel a little pukey. I cooked a pot of chili after I got home. I wanted to cook it before the ground chuck went rancid.

4. I had to renew my CWP. I was hoping they had live human targets. They didn't. I called and asked. I just renewed online. Bummer.

5. I think I have road rage. I cuss almost everyone in my path. I don't cut people off, or pull a weapon, or even flip them off. I just cuss. Stuff like "Hey motherfucker, why don't you speed up?" "Get the fuck out of my way, motherfucker." I bet if I had a pygmy goat I wouldn't road rage as much. I think I will name my goat "Lil Motherfucker."

6. Jack has rabies.

7. Dogette and I are forming a "gang." We always come up with some crazy shit, then lose interest shortly after. We're like ADD bloggers. We're going to have gang colors and gang signs and crazy shit like that. Why you ask? Because we think it's funny. That's all you need to know, unless we invite you into our gang. And there may or may not be an initiation that may or may not involve killing someone. Well, not really killing, maybe more like maiming. And by maiming, I mean giving a wicked Indian Burn.

8. I still want one of these:

And I won't name it "Lil Motherfucker." I will name it "Daisy."

9. I am really into watching "Hoarders" on A&E. Jesus Christ. What the hell? A crew comes in with pitch forks and cleans their shit up. And most have collected actual "shit" too. It's so gross. So they clean it all up for them and you just KNOW within a few months they're back hoarding. Every time I watch it I clean out a closet or something. I'm waiting for a "Hoarders Marathon" to do my spring cleaning.

10. I want this too:

And I will hug him and squeeze him and name him George.

P.S. Oh my God, ya'll. I couldn't find the "What Rancid Meat Are You?" quiz on Facebook so I took the "What Crazy Bitch Are You?" quiz, which is kind of the same thing, but not, and it says I'm Courtney Love and at first I'm like "Ewww, no" then I read it and it's so spot on. My fave parts "if anyone messes with you or the ones you love, you will fuck them up." and "you are blatantly honest and sometimes people can find this a little hard to take but you really don't give a shit." Who knew Facebook quizzes were so insightful.

Posted by Laura at 05:06 AM | Permalink | Comments (24) | TrackBacks (0)

I have, for years, secretly kept a list of people who may want to murder me. Is that weird? I don't think so. I know I have a tendency to create situations in which my death would probably not be the worst-case scenario for other people. I don't do it on purpose. Well, okay, at least half of the time I don't do it on purpose. Well, okay maybe 30% of the time I don't, but that's neither here nor there. And just how ironic would it be that I end up stabbed?

It recently occurred to me that I should post the list here since the other runs a risk of being stolen or tampered with. I mean, it's not very secure in my desk drawer is it? It also changes from time to time, and it would be best to edit it here instead of say the "murderer" editing it. So here it is, as of this moment:

 People-Who-Should-Be-Investigated-in-the-Event-of-my-Death List 

1. J, for obvious reasons. C'mon. I probably drove him to it.

2. My neighbor, Crazy Betty. She knows where I live and By the Blood of Jesus she has zeroed her crazy in on me.

3. The reptile people at work. Yes, the ones who keep turning the heat up to 200 degrees. I (along with another normal temperatured person in the office) am a thorn in their side. I will always do battle with you, reptile people. You will be defeated, unless you kill me first.

4. Steve Jobs. He's always stealing from my iTunes account and I have publically accused him of this on my blog. Also, I have a working liver.

5. The Chinese. Because I am always bad mouthing them with posts like this and I refuse to shop at WalMart. I do eat their food though. A lot. That's probably why they've allowed me to live this long.

6. George Clooney's WHORE. I mean, I do call her WHORE and voodoo her skanky ass. She should not only be questioned in the event of my murder, but slapped around and maybe cattle prodded tasered, then slapped around some more. Yeah. Waterboard her, then slap her hard, then taser her again. WHORE.

P.S. Hey, wouldn’t it be funny if I really WAS murdered, and they actually DID use my People-Who-Should-Be-Investigated-in-the-Event-of-my-Death List to investigate?

P.P.S. Wait. No. No it wouldn't be funny one damn bit.

P.P.P.S. Except for #6. That would be funny. Maybe I'll fake my own murder for that. Yeah, fake my own murder. I'll implicate that WHORE. Set her up. Then take on a new identity. George Clooney will be mine at last. We'll finally be together and that WHORE will be imprisoned. Umm, nevermind.

Posted by Laura at 05:17 AM | Permalink | Comments (13) | TrackBacks (0)

Most days I wish I could secretly fake my own death and run away and start over as an independently wealthy woman. I haven't worked through all the details on exactly "how" to make this happen, but the first thing I think I fucked up is the whole "secretly" thing. Word. I just decided I'm going to end each blog entry with "Word." Let's see how long that lasts. I'm already tired of it.

Posted by Laura at 05:20 AM | Permalink | Comments (12) | TrackBacks (0)

Yes! I got VD for VD and it's adorable! I also got THE RABIES!

And my favorite- Gerbera Daisies!

P.S. Sorry about all the exclamation points. I get excited when I get syphilis, rabies, and flowers in the same day.

P.S.S. Oh, I love that the title of this entry is going to show up in all your readers and you'll be clicking over here to see if I actually did stab J. Because I would if it was for reals. Taser, then stab, then taser some more. Not that I've thought about it much. No. I'm just saying that's probably what I would do.

P.S.S.S. I know it's been a weekend of photos. But that's what an A-Lister does when they are busy with their exciting, busy life. There will probably be more pics this week. I am going to go see the robot dinosaurs at the museum. Rumor has it that T-Rex will be there! Sorry, another exclamation point. BUT IT'S T-FUCKING-REX!

Posted by Laura at 09:45 AM | Permalink | Comments (11) | TrackBacks (0)

Day 1: Confusion and Panic

Posted by Laura at 06:01 PM | Permalink | Comments (12) | TrackBacks (0)

Valentine's Day is right around the corner. And every Valentine's Day I try to help you single women out there in your search for the perfect man. And since I'd have better luck hunting down a unicorn, I just go to OKCupid instead and review the menz listed there. This year I will be reading their profiles and "breaking it down" for you with what I think their likes and dislikes are. Because that says it all doesn't it? Likes and dislikes. I will also award them a personalized Valentine Bear. Because, well, I care. It's what I do. Care.

Here we have Stan-

Stan enjoys weekday adultery, clean bills of health, and walks on the beach with his one dimensional dog "Mystery."

Stan dislikes weekend adultery, three dimensional pets, and hats.

Next we have Specialist Anderson-

Spec. Anderson enjoys napping, dreaming of watching lesbian sex, and dreaming of participating in lesbian sex.

Spec. Anderson dislikes caffeine, reality, and honorable discharges.

Then we have Charles-

Charles enjoys believing in things, hallucinogens, and MAC Eyeliner with Smudge Pot.

Charles dislikes reality, Rogaine, anti-depressants, and removing his wedding ring when he takes pictures for a dating site.

Here's Sal. Sal had no profile info except for location and that he was looking for a lady. Sal felt his picture said it all. But it's confusing. It's either trying to say "Rawrr, I'm a sexy tiger in the water!" or "Sqqqqeeeeee! I sure got a purdy mouth."

Lastly we have John-

John enjoys high heel chairs, lava lamps and receiving titty twisters.

John dislikes housekeeping, spelling, capitalization, and dignity.

Posted by Laura at 04:50 AM | Permalink | Comments (23) | TrackBacks (0)

Enough about me. Let's ask these people what they think about me:

My friend Alison wrote a blog entry about how many cyclists there seemed to be in London, and how rude they are. I made this for her:

Being an A-List Blogger means advertisers knock down your door to throw money at you for allowing them to advertise on your blog. I am very choosy and want to make sure the partnership is a good fit. I don't want just any ole' ad on my blog. So far I am in talks with these people:

Don't you just hate it when people post pictures of their food? Not me.

I know it looks kind of weird but that Swiss Chicken was delish. I made it EXACTLY like the recipe, except no egg noodles, and I added fresh mushrooms, capers and wine. Other than that, it's the same. Kind of. Not really.

I noticed that a good many of the blogs I read are in the middle of a redesign. The authors are putting up new themes and rearranging. New themes means having to tweak and fiddle to get them working as planned. Sometimes text and columns are all over the place. For all these people I made this blog award they can put up while reconstructing:

P.S. Dogette, another A-List Blogger, is about to start voodooing as soon as UPS delivers her voodoo supplies. Sure, there's a chance it might not end well when you dabble in the Black Magic, but that just makes it even that much more awesome to watch.

Posted by Laura at 05:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (14) | TrackBacks (0)

• It's dark every morning when I leave my house for work. Every morning while going to my car I look for zombies. The fast ones. I mentally picture one coming at me, fast, and I freak a little inside. I time myself on my iPhone on how long it takes me to get in my car and lock the doors. I do this without looking like a complete spaz (ie flinging my arms and screaming for Jesus) in case a neighbor is looking out. It probably just looks like I am in a hurry or cold or something. But chances are that I probably do look like a spaz. But I don't care. I'll have the last laugh one day.
  
• I sing and have dance-offs with my pets daily. It usually ends in a fight between one of the cats and Jack. Jack is very petty and jealous and has no rhythm. Right now their favorite song is You Belong With Me by Taylor Swift. Traxler has been the winner lately.
  
• I not only mentally visualize stabbing annoying people in my life but will also imagine what it would feel like running over them with my car. The whole "thump, thump" thing is sometimes very satisfying. If they're really annoying I will close my eyes and throw it in reverse, then forward for a triple "thump, thump."
  
• I have to sleep with a fan on and/or a light on. I don't know why. I just do. Also my feet CANNOT be covered. I don't know why. They just can't be.
  
• I can hear a song twice and then sing back all the words. And I will remember those words FOREVER. I can sing songs from earliest childhood. All the lyrics. People are amazed. I cannot remember my cell phone number or most people's names. People are amazed.
  
• Sometimes I wonder what would happen if you were about to have a really bad diarrhea explosion while driving and as you were speeding home, a cop pulls you over. As you cried (because I imagine you would literally cry) that you were about to poop your pants would the cop a) think you were lying and give you a citation even after the explosion? b) back away and tell you to go and be careful? Maybe even give you a police escort? Only thing I know for sure is that you shouldn't try to outrun him. Wrecking your car then being chased and tasered with a load in your drawers would just be too nasty.
  
• Sometimes I think I think too much about what would happen in different explosive diarrhea scenarios.

Posted by Laura at 05:17 AM | Permalink | Comments (15) | TrackBacks (0)

I took this same quiz back in 2008 and it said I could take on 29 five year olds. Since then I've worked out and read up on kids by reading some mommy blogs. My goal is to take on at least 40. I like setting goals for myself. J wouldn't take the quiz again. He still has some kind of ethical, moral thing against opening a can of whoop ass on five year olds. Yeah, I know. But sometimes you have to overlook a person's faults if you really care for them.

Posted by Laura at 06:25 PM | Permalink | Comments (9) | TrackBacks (0)

It's been a pissy week. And when I get pissy, I get stabby. And because prison scares me, I try to keep my violent tendencies to my lists. So let's get on with it, shall we?

1. The very pregnant girl in the grocery store check out line who had her groceries separated into two piles. One pile was all the juice, milk, cheese, eggs and cereal that she had a WIC voucher for. The other pile was steaks and other assorted meats, about a dozen frozen name brand pizzas, soda pop and a full cart of other asundry things that her little Food Stamp credit card thingy paid for. The rest of us overheard you telling the lady behind you that you were eight months pregnant and that you had a nine month old at home. I was overcome with happiness that my taxes helped support your choices as I stood in line with my buy one get one free boxes of cereal that I thought I would be eating for a few suppers because I have to pay for my medical bills and my GINORMOUS electric bill, BOTH I'm also certain YOU don't have to pay. You're welcome. The best part was watching you load your huge haul into your new Toyota Camry. I thought of Andre Bauer, and I didn't hate him as much, and for that I really wanted to stab you.

2. Those fucking reptile people at work who turned the thermostats up so high I swear to God my hair almost caught on fire sitting at my desk the other day. My buddy at work and I used to do sort of a tag team thing where we would take turns walking behind them and turning down the heat. She's been out, and I have been losing the battle. Just yesterday I had to hook myself up to IV fluids because I was so dehydrated. I would LOVE to fucking STAB all of them in their reptilian, anemic hearts.

3. I want to stab J for saying I sound like a Chinese leprechaun every time I attempt to do a foreign accent. I don't care if I try to do a French, British, Chinese or even IRISH accent. He claims it all sounds the same. He always says "What the hell was that?" and bursts out laughing. STAB.

4. The damn squirrel that got in my attic and decided to gnaw on a piece of wood, waking me up from my sleep. I'll have to admit you kind of scared me as I was trying to figure out where the sound was coming from. It sounded like you were in the wall right behind my head and my first thought was "It can't be a body. Not enough room." I know, because I measured it for that once. Wait. Nevermind. At least you didn't cause a fire gnawing wires. But you forced me to go into the attic and run your rodent ass out and nail down the mesh screening you pushed past. Stay out of my house, fucker. If you come back I will taser you. I've been wanting to use it.

5. The lawn guy I fired last year who I have been unable to replace. He left a letter and business card on my door saying I'd get a discount for any referrals! I mostly want to stab myself because it looks like I will hire him back.

6. The IRS. Why do things have to be so complicated? Oh my God. I've started to do my taxes twice and had to stop because my tears of frustration were smearing the ink. But I know I must get them done soon. Baby mommas need their DeGiorno Pizzas.

Posted by Laura at 05:33 AM | Permalink | Comments (23) | TrackBacks (0)

With great power comes great responsibility. No truer words have ever been spoken. When you're an A-List Blogger like Dogette and me, it's always apparent that you are the leader, the trendsetter, the manipulator the one that everyone looks to for guidance. It's the A-Lister's job, nay, DUTY to dictate the wants, needs and desires of their minions readers.

I've been an A-List Blogger now for three days. And I don't want to fall behind in my duties. From time to time I will show you snapshots of products that you will look at and think to yourself "Oh, if I only had that I could be just like her! I could be AWESOME!" It's kind of like the burden Oprah must have with her Favorite Things List.

None of these products I use myself, and most of the products I just get paid to show you. Of course there's now that pesky little law where I'm suppose to disclose if I've been paid to hawk them, but even that doesn't matter. All you will think is "OH MY GOD! I get to see what SHE recommends! I MUST have these overpriced things so maybe it will make me closer to greatness. Hell, maybe she'll even notice I got one and link to me!" I'm going to start slow on this and just recommend one product today. I know once you see it, their website will crash from all the traffic coming in to order it, so if the site is down, just keep trying. Remember I don't use this, but by me featuring it on my A-List Blog, your life will not be complete until YOU own one.

It's a Dildo Helmet Head Massager! With free shipping! So order your Dildo Helmet Head Massager today! Hurry! Do it!

P.S. This is the part where I tell you that no one paid or offered me anything for suggesting you buy this Dildo Helmet Head Massager. The only compensation I got was the hilarious mental image of you all wearing this while reading my A-List Blog. Minus that creepy ass facial expression those models have though.

Posted by Laura at 05:33 AM | Permalink | Comments (16) | TrackBacks (0)

Having an A-List blog is harder than it looks. It's not like I became an A-List blogger overnight. Wait. Yes I did. Anyway, now the pressure is on to hold onto the A-List title. This is where my investigational skills came in handy. In my research of A-List bloggers I read a lot of A-List "Mommy Blogs." Yeah, you read that right. I looked at about four or five of them before stopping myself from gouging my own eyes out and noticed they all had a few things in common. First thing I noticed was they were all what's called SAHMs (Stay At Home Moms) and secondly, most were on "mood modification" drugs; anti-depressants, sedatives and stuff like that. Being on these actually endeared them to their fan base. The Queen of all the Mommy Bloggers, Dooce, is on mega drugs and is always having to go get them tweaked when her crazy becomes immune to the current ones. Her fans find this delightful and go on and on and thank her for making crazy AWESOME or something. Seriously. I had a friend who had kids and was crazy and had her meds tweaked all the time and all she got was a few DSS investigations. She should have had a blog.

Anyway, I'm single and have to work, and that Baptist I gave a down payment to for a Haitian kid rental hasn't returned my calls, so I can't be a SAHM for A-List Blog Month. I can, however, take drugs. Though it's been suggested to me numerous times in my life to go get "professional help" and seek "treatment" I never did. I do, however, go to the doctor a lot, what with having rabies, and that one bout of feline leukemia. There are lots of meds in my bathroom medicine cabinet. So I went through them looking for medication I take that could be considered "mood modification" drugs which I could possibly write about and endear my fan base (all five of you) to me. I found these:

The Midol is pretty much self-explanatory but I bet you're wondering why the hell I consider Flintstone Vitamins to be a "mood modification" drug. Well, they keep me on an even keel. Last time I came off of them I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die. Okay, it wasn't in Reno. And well, it wasn't really a man, it was my brother. And I was like eight and he was nine. And I didn't exactly shoot him; I kicked him in the nuts. Really hard. But you get the idea. I can't get off the Barneys, man. Bad things happen.

A-List Blogger Crazy- Check.

Posted by Laura at 04:49 AM | Permalink | Comments (20) | TrackBacks (0)

Dogette and I have decided that we are A-List Bloggers. Don't ask how we decided this, we just did. So I am calling February "A-List Blog Month."

I know some of you are thinking "What the hell are these yo-yos up to now?" Listen, we are not two retards putting on cardboard Burger King crowns and running around the playground screaming "Look at me! I'm the King!" until we fall into the ball bin. No, we are two retards, err I mean, bloggers telling you we ARE A-List Bloggers because this month we are going to BEHAVE like A-List Bloggers. We will live it and be it. We have visited many so-called A-List Blogs and we think we know their secrets. We really won't be sharing that with you, because A-Listers don't share. DAMN! I gave one secret away! I need practice. Pretend you didn't read that.

So while we are mocking emulating A-List Bloggers, be sure to tell everyone you know that you read Fetch My Flying Monkeys and Two Nervous Dogs and add us to your blogrolls because this will make you cool by association. Not really, but it will make you feel cool.

So to kick this "A-List Blog Month" off right, be sure to leave me comments telling me how awesome and hip I am even though I basically phoned this entry in. Oh, but I did make this-

So there's no mistake. This IS an A-List Blog.

Posted by Laura at 04:34 AM | Permalink | Comments (19) | TrackBacks (0)

It rained yesterday. That was it for our winter storm. This morning the railing on the backstairs had a little bit of ice on them. It scared me, but I ventured on to the store. I am brave like that. The Toilet Paper Scare of 2010 was completely averted.

Now on to the Craptastic Giveaway-

Congrats Zombie Mom! Email me a shipping address and I will get a box out to you this week.

This is it for the cool crap giveaways for a while. Thanks to everyone commenting wanting the crap. My house is full of crap, so if you didn't win this time around I am sure there will be more chances later. Now don't start hating and stop commenting if you didn't win. Remember, if you didn't win it's Jack's fault. He's the one who did the selecting of the winner. He knows that he has probably angered a few people, and made a few enemies so he's left town for a few weeks until the heat is off. This is his cousin Walter visiting while he's gone. Yeah, that's it.

Posted by Laura at 04:26 PM | Permalink | Comments (8) | TrackBacks (0)

It's gotten colder. It's raining. It's supposed to turn to sleet and ice shortly. The temperature tonight is going to be in the 20's. I have plenty of bread, milk, and eggs. I do, however, just have 2 rolls of toilet paper. TWO ROLLS. I will try to hang on. Ration them. Single sheet time. I will be brave. I will fight the good fight. I am uncertain how long before I can get to a store. I am uncertain even if the stores are stocked. There is just one thing I am certain of, and that is that my next month's electric bill will be $28,000. But I can't worry about that right now. I must just worry about making it to the next day, and the day after that. Oh, the things that go through your head during these trying times. But I've lived life to its fullest. I have but two regrets. I regret not buying double rolls, and I regret eating a bowl of Raisin Bran last night for dinner.

I will try to keep you updated. Or not.

Posted by Laura at 11:52 AM | Permalink | Comments (13) | TrackBacks (0)

For anyone who is not familiar with my crazy ass neighbor, you can go here, here, and then here to catch up if you'd like. Oh, and here. Oh My God! It's like homework!

I had been seeing a lot of police at Crazy Betty's over the last month. I really didn't concern myself with it at all, because well, I don't care. But honestly I just thought she may have written more psycho letters and the other neighbors called the cops on her. Anyway, so I was getting something out of my car the other day and my neighbor from across the street (a sane one) waved and said "Has she called the cops on you yet?" and pointed towards Crazy Betty's house. I told her "not yet" and asked her if she called them on her. She said that Betty has been calling the police on EVERYONE who walks past her house. She tells the police that they tried to break in her house or that they threatened her.

She really needs to be committed. I think she's a paranoid schizophrenic. I think I should help speed this whole process along by placing doll heads on stakes all along the perimeter of my yard. Freak her out real good and push her over the edge and right into a looney bin. Dozens and dozens of soul-less baby doll eyes staring. Watching. Judging. Waiting.

Thoughts I had after I thought I had finished this entry:

1st. I am like a doctor WITH borders. Borders of baby doll heads on stakes. Ha!

2nd. I am not a doctor. I hope they don't send me pictures of weird shit on their body and ask me what it is. I just like to play a doctor on the Internets. Sometimes I'm an astronaut.

3rd. I researched paranoid schizophrenia on WebMD. Baby doll heads on stakes is not a recommended treatment.

4th. Doll heads on stakes freak me out. Like, A LOT.

5th. I may be a paranoid schizophrenic.

6th. Or an astronaut

with a really big head.

7th. I really do have a really big head. Like size big, not all snooty and uppity big.

Posted by Laura at 05:41 PM | Permalink | Comments (22) | TrackBacks (0)

It's the last week of Attention Whore Month and I must say you all have done me proud. Of course, I had to entice some of you with free crap, but that's okay. It's a win-win situation. You get crap, I get rid of crap. Again, this weekend will be the last craptacular giveaway, at least for a while. So if you want a shot at Jack choosing your name, just let me know. I'm thinking this could be the grand prize:

Surprise!

Oh, and because blogs should be engaging for the readers, and nothing is more engaging than audience participation, I am requesting suggestions from you all. Dogette and I like this whole "Theme Month" thing and I am asking you all to make some suggestions of themes that we could use. Please feel free to make these suggestions in the comments. Wow, see how I just slipped that "more comments please" thing in? That came so naturally. I fucking rock out as an Attention Whore. Just please don't suggest things like "Stop Blogging Bitch Month", or "STFU Month" because that's just mean and I'll have to stab you.

Also, did you all know I have an iPhone? Well I do. And I never really made a video on it before. I was goofing with it the other day and the very first vid I shot was so perfect that I made it into a short film to share with you. Okay, it was actually so horrible I thought it was funny. Don't worry, it's not porn, your corneas and stomachs are safe. Although I did put what sounds like 70's porn music on it. Porn music does make me laugh. Hell, porn makes me laugh. Anyway, the asshats that ripped my mailbox door off inspired me to make my own avant-garde piece. I call this work of art "Tinks With A Special Appearance from Jack." You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll want to delete me from your bookmarks. But don't. So without further ado:

Posted by Laura at 06:16 PM | Permalink | Comments (19) | TrackBacks (0)

I know everyone is still recovering from my absence here for a few days last week. Simmer down. I'm back now, and I have everything under control. Everything that is except my stabbiness. Here's this past week's list of things/people I've wanted to plunge a knife into:

1. South Carolina Electric and Gas. We had one week last month that was "cold." My power bill was triple what it usually is this time of year. Triple. That's insane and deserves stabbing until the blade breaks or my arm gets tired, whichever comes first.

2. The sonofabitches that ripped the door off of my mailbox. You worthless, good for nothing bastards. What the hell did my mailbox door do to you? I know what I want to do with it now. I want to shove it up your asses and then stab you. I will say though, it now completes the look of my abandoned, overgrown lot looking yard; sort of the pièce de résistance. You still need to be stabbed, you destructive, arsty, avant-garde motherfuckers.

3. A-list mommy bloggers. What the hell? You know, even if I liked kids, most of these A-listers are boring as hell. Like SUPER BORING. I read a lot of blogs by talented people and some of these writers have kids and write about them. They are all by far superior to these so called A-list mommy blogs. And what makes them A-listers? The revenue from their blogs? The hits their sites get? I just don't get it, and things I don't get I generally want to stab.

4. Speaking about blogging, I want to stab witty commenters who don't have a blog. What's that about? You're just letting the boring "A-listers" win!

5. The asshole in the Mini Cooper who was riding my ass on my drive home today. Dude, you don't even know how close you came to me slamming on my brakes, allowing you to rear-end me and then stabbing you through the window of your widdle crushed car while we waited for the rescue squad to run to Kmart for a can opener to pull you out.

6. Kraft Foods for their hostile takeover of the British candy maker Cadbury PLC. I wouldn't have thought much about this except I signed on to Twitter and my friend in England, Alison, was angrily tweeting about it and got me so swept up in her rage that I threw out a box of Kraft Mac and Cheese I had in my cabinet. I have sworn off of the stuff for good as a show of solidarity with my British friend. Good-bye gooey, orange powder of unnatural goodness.

Posted by Laura at 04:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (16) | TrackBacks (0)

Ugh. I have rabies AGAIN. This time it's Asian Rabies. I ate too much Chinese food for lunch and now I don't feel too good. But look at me. Yes, LOOK AT ME. I'm here blogging for Attention Whore Month. I'm dying from Asian Rabies and still I crave attention. Oh, and look at this. The Chinese are fucking with me still.

I'm ALL these things. In bed too. It's like they mock me. Now I have their rabies. Damn you, China.

I heard again today that George Clooney may be getting married to that WHORE. I don't even know what to think. I hope it's just a rumor. It really upsets me. So much so that I wrote a little poem. Yes, I write poetry when I'm all lovelorn and melancholy.

Oh George Clooney don't you marry that WHORE
She's skanky and nasty and VD ridden I'm sure
She won't make you happy like I would every day
Please give me a chance, please take me away
OR I'LL FUCKING STAB HER

Speaking of my Boo, George, he is having his big ole' Haiti charity hoopla telethon this Friday, so everyone should tune in. Also, this telethon he's hosting gave me a brilliant idea. I need to make a HUGE donation so I can draw his ATTENTION to ME. I doubt that I can make a personal donation that could impress George Clooney. My only hope is to be a fund raising bundler. So I want you all to click this button and make a donation. I'll gather it together and donate it in MY name and since I am certain ALL of you will give till it hurts, the donation will be SO LARGE that I can request sexual favors a DATE with him. A DATE. PEOPLE! Sure, it would be kind of like a pity date, but goddamn, A DATE! I could distract him from that WHORE long enough so that he would fall madly in love with me! So click the button. DO IT. DO IT NOW AND HELP ME WIN A DATE WITH GEORGE CLOONEY!! HELP HIM LOVE ME! Oh, and help Haiti. DO IT! CLICK IT!!

Ha! The button actually links to The Salvation Army Earthquake Relief for Haiti. Yes, I was very DECEPTIVE there wasn't I? IN YOUR FACE, CHINA!

P.S. The Salvation Army is not one of the charities receiving proceeds from the telethon, but it's one of the only human charities I trust.

Posted by Laura at 05:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (16) | TrackBacks (0)

I trust most of you survived The Great Non-Stab List Monday of 2010. As promised here's this week's Stab List, one day late:

1. The sales clerk at the MAC cosmetic counter at Belk's. I went to the counter to get an eye-liner and the chick was applying a thick coat of make-up on her already heavily made-up face. So I waited patiently, actually intrigued that so much make-up could be worn by an individual NOT in a circus. So she turned to me as if she was annoyed and said "Can I help you?" I asked for the liner, and without lifting the pencil lip liner held to her lips she said "I think we're out of that." I stood there expecting her to, I don't know, GO LOOK. She just continued applying her make-up! I just laughed and said "Fuck this, I'll come back when the manager is here" and leaned in to make a big deal of reading her name tag "TARA." She just continued applying her make-up. STAB!

2. The lady with the baby in her cart at the grocery store who made a production out of baby talking LOUDLY to it THE WHOLE TIME SHE WAS SHOPPING. I think this bothers me so because these women make a BIG PRODUCTION of doing it. They are like "Oh, look what a wonderful Earth Mother I am! I talk to my child!" Lady, the only way that would impress me is if you spoke Klingon to the kid. Because that would be fucking cool.

3. Conan O'Brien AND Jay Leno. Who the hell cares? I don't. I have to work a REAL job and I can't stay up to watch either of you. I'm sure you both have enough money so that even your great-great grandchildren will never have to work. Go away.

4. AARP. They are sending me literature! Fuck you AARP! I am still young and vibrant. (Shut. The. Hell. Up.) You are confused, AARP.

5. Drama Queens who don't even know that they're Drama Queens. This is Attention Whore Month so they need to know it's ALL about me, not them.

6. I want to stab J because he called me laughing, saying he just heard on the television that George Clooney was getting married to that WHORE. I screamed "YOU LIE YOU SONOFABITCH!" And he laughed harder saying it was true. I hung up on him and may or may not have collapsed into a pool of my own tears. I'm not saying.

Posted by Laura at 04:57 PM | Permalink | Comments (22) | TrackBacks (0)

There will be no Stab List today because I am busy and very important. Don't worry. There are people I want to stab, I just have important things to do with important people in important places, and I am much too busy to make a list right now. I wanted to do this entry merely because it's Attention Whore Month and I am an attention whore. I know not having a Stab List to read on a Monday may make some of you despondent, even suicidal. Some may get angry; perhaps so angry that you'll start turning over trash cans, burning cars, and looting. Some may even take hostages. So in order to calm you all the fuck down here are action pictures of Jack using his Doggy Steps to get on the chair.

I should be a negotiator for the police department.

P.S. Dogette at Two Nervous Dogs has a Pet Cam she's attached to her dog's collar and so far her dog has robbed and killed someone. Not really. But we're hoping.

P.S.S. We're still attention whoring it up at Advice Asylum so be sure to go there and comment. Attention whores need attention, people!

P.S.S. The Cool Crap Giveaway is still going on so if you want crap be sure to say so in your comments.

Posted by Laura at 06:55 PM | Permalink | Comments (18) | TrackBacks (0)

This is another sign message I took a pic of today at that church I pass by on my way to town.

I've had rabies all weekend. But rabies doesn't stop me from my desire to educate you people. I know I have been slacking on the educating since I became such an attention whore. Perhaps I can start combining the two.

Posted by Laura at 08:43 PM | Permalink | Comments (16) | TrackBacks (0)

This past Saturday my friend, the one who wanted me to go to the plastic surgeon with her to help her pick out new boobs, had me go with her to pick out some "fake ones" at Victoria's Secret. Why in the hell I got nominated to help her in her quest for new boobs I'll never know. Anyway, she wanted to go to Victoria's Secret and get gel inserts so that she could try the size for a few weeks before the surgery. I told her what size to try and after an argument ending with me saying "Fine, look like a fucked-up Dolly Pardon, I don't care" she decided to try the size I suggested. The problem came when she turned the box of gel inserts over and saw that they were $68 FOR TWO GEL FILLED BAGS. She told me that she knew where a lingerie shop was and she bet that they'd have them there cheaper. Since basically she just wants them for a few weeks, she didn't want to spend the $68. So we headed out to the other side of town and when we pulled into the parking lot I turned to her and told her we weren't in Kansas anymore. I'm all "Umm, this is a porn shop." She said "No it's not, it's lingerie." "Have you ever been to a porn shop?" She shrugged her shoulders and said no, but this was a lingerie shop. I'm all "Whatever." I was tired of the "Boob Quest Tour 2010" and arguing with her. Anyway, we both went into the store and sure enough, it was a porn shop with hooker wear in the front and hardcore stuff in the back. I turned towards her and said with a smile "They're not going to have what you want here." At that exact second a guy from behind the counter asked my friend what she was looking for. He looked to be about 30-35 years old with dark circles under his eyes and was totally stoned out of his mind. He reminded me of John Denver if John Denver shot up heroin and sold dildos. My friend was caught by surprise and I knew the second she opened her mouth that she had forgotten the name of what she wanted. He stood there with his hands on his hips anxious to get back to fire up a spoon or whatever he was doing and asked her again "What do you need?" She opened her mouth and said "Umm do you have the gel..." and absentmindedly started making circles with her hands in the air around each boob. I stood back to watch the fun. Stoned Guy leaned forward, made a quizzical face and said "Gel?" My friend looked at me for help; I just leaned on a rack of hooker shoes and smiled. This was going to be fun. She turned back to Stoner Guy, nodded and was still making circles around each boob and said "Gel...ummm... thing... inside." Stoner Guy straightened up like he suddenly knew the answer to Final Jeopardy and said "Oh! You mean the gel you put on your nipples that makes the guy's tongue numb, right?"

My friend stopped mid-circle, turned to me and made the best 'What. The. Fuck. Face' I have ever seen in my entire life and whimpered "ewww." I lost it then. I started laughing so hard I could barely catch my breath. Tears were running down my face. I leaned hard into the hooker shoe display just to keep from falling on the floor. My friend just stood there. Frozen. Her hands still in front of her boobs, she stood silent with her face filled with shock, horror and disgust. This made me laugh harder. Stoner Guy just stood there and as soon as I was physically able, I managed to say through the tears, "She wants to know if you have gel inserts for a bra; for breast enhancement." He said no, they didn't carry anything like that. I thanked him and lead my shell-shocked friend out the door. Once in the car, I turned to her and said "Well now, $68 dollars doesn't seem so bad right about now does it?"

P.S. Maeve got her box of crap!

Posted by Laura at 07:01 PM | Permalink | Comments (22) | TrackBacks (0)

I don't know how much time I have. It's cold and windy here in South Carolina and it's supposed to get COLDER! I am frightened. We survived the snow flurries last night only because they didn't happen. Now we face a different challenge. A cold Arctic air mass is moving in. Cold plus wind brings certain death, people. I tweeted for help on my way to work. Not really ON MY WAY, as in while driving, because driving and tweeting IS certain death. The temperature was 40 degrees and falling. FALLING. As in, getting colder. The wind has to be at least 5 mph now! FIVE MILES PER HOUR! We need help down here, people! Send jackets, scarves, those cool driving gloves, and hot chocolate. OH, and please some chapstick! My lips are drying as I type this! And my hands! Oh God. MY HANDS! Drying. Send lotion with vitamin E and nail conditioner. Nivea makes it I think. Send vast quanities. Vats. I will try to keep you updated but I don't know how much longer I can hold on...help....me... pleas

Posted by Laura at 07:11 AM | Permalink | Comments (14) | TrackBacks (0)

Dogette and I have declared January "Attention Whore Month." Everyone who blogs knows that traffic slows down in December because people are busy shopping, traveling or wanking to "It's A Wonderful Life." By January holidays and holiday specials are over and the weather usually forces people indoors. And when people are forced indoors, they get bored, go online, look at porn and read blogs.

This month we are going to shamelessly promote our blogs, mine, Dogette's Two Nervous Dogs and our joint venture-Advice Asylum. I am receiving an excellent amount of attention on my Cool Crap Giveaway AND I will be giving away Cool Crap all month. I think this makes me THE WHORE of WHORES. Wait. No. What?

We're tweaking and remodeling Advice Asylum because it's relatively new and we haven't quite found our "voice" there, because as any blogger will tell you, it takes time to settle in. And speaking of settling in, here at Flying Monkeys I know I haven't written any of my life stories in a while, and I have received some inquiries about this. Apparently some folks like to hear about my crazy ass childhood and other adventures. Some requested tales from my military days, which I've never really hit upon. My Army days ROCKED and KICKED ASS by the way. I will try at least once a week to write about a past adventure. I am very busy and important, so all I can do is try. I just hope those emails requesting my stories weren't from the authorities.

So I want you all to comment like mofos here and at Dogette's and at the Asylum. Even if it's just to say "hello." Enter the Cool Crap Giveaway if you want some cool crap, and everyone with a blog- I want you to become big ole' whores too in honor of Attention Whore Month. Be sure to bookmark us too. Non-blog owners can become big ole' whores too and tell everyone about us. Ya'll can consider me your pimp. Wait. No. What?

P.S. This is all moot if I die tonight in what I am calling "Snow Flurry Apocalypse 2010." I guess you all could just read my archives after looking at porn.

P.S.S. As part of Attention Whore Month, I will be posting pictures of my pets randomly for attention. Here's an old one of Thelma dressed as an elephant for Halloween one year. Everyone loves pet pics and I am not above humiliating my pets for attention. As you all already know.

Posted by Laura at 06:16 PM | Permalink | Comments (16) | TrackBacks (0)

I know that I try to do my Stab Lists on Mondays, but while I am sitting here syncing my iPhone to iTunes, I thought I would just type it out so everyone can read it when they go to work Monday. You know you read blogs at work. Don't even try to lie.

1. People who read blogs at work. Ha! Psych! No, really, if I could I would stab employers that block the Internet from their employees. We all know the slack-asses at work don't need the Internet to sham. Most have it down to a fine science. And these worthless bullshit artist employees should be stabbed too.

2. I want to stab the fact that there will not be another work holiday for almost four months. I think every month should have at least one paid holiday.

3. People who shoot off fireworks ALL NIGHT FOR THREE NIGHTS IN A ROW for New Years. Goddamn. I actually visualized ramming a Roman Candle up their asses. But mostly I just wanted to stab the inconsiderate fuckers.

4. The lawn care workers at work who use a leaf blower in the parking lot WHEN ALL THE CARS ARE STILL IN THE LOT. What the fuck? First off, the leaves are still falling, so you are blowing in vain. Secondly, you're just moving them around. And lastly and most importantly, YOU ARE FUCKING UP THE CARS. My car was completely coated with a fine dust and I swear to God, if the dude with the backpack blower had been standing there when I left work I would have stabbed him. I hate washing a car.

5. Items that say "Some Assembly Required" on the box, then when you open the package it's like you have to totally manufacture the item with one little allen wrench. Grrrrr.

6. The whole cast of "Jersey Shore." Again, I was too lazy to find the remote and decided I could suffer through one episode of this reality show. I was right, I suffered. There is not one of these skanky, guidos/guidettes (their definition of themselves, by the way) that don't deserve a good stabbing. What is it with finding the lowest common denominator and putting them on tv? Just what the hell?

Here's their commercial.

Makes you want to go sharpen your knives doesn't it?

Posted by Laura at 07:39 PM | Permalink | Comments (13) | TrackBacks (0)

Things I Should Stop Doing In 2010

1. Stop wanting to stab everyone I meet. I should probably get on strong tranquilizers or hallucinogens so I can bear to be around other human beings.

2. Stop cussing J out and putting him on said Stab List and hanging up on him and telling him I would drop his ass in a skinny minute for George Clooney. I should really appreciate him more.

3. Stop obsessing about George Clooney and calling his women WHORES. I need to live in the real world more- see above.

4. Stop gloating about having an iPhone to anyone who will listen. There's people in Mongolia who don't even have a smart phone.

5. Stop dressing my dog up and laughing at him while I photograph him. He has feelings. No intelligence, but feelings.

6. Stop accusing Steve Jobs of being a thief. I drink when I surf iTunes so my math may be off.

7. Stop calling my neighbor "Crazy Betty" and show her some compassion. Perhaps even bake her some cookies one day. Maybe slip in a few of those tranquilizers.

8. Stop thinking constantly of ways I could fake my own death and get away with it. I should really try to solve my problems under THIS identity.

9. Stop editing my blog after I publish it. I am not even kidding. You can read it then hit refresh and it will be different.

10. Stop cursing and taking the Lord's name in vain so much, and pasting a T-Rex as God all over my blog. I should remember my religious upbringing and actually fear going to Hell.

11. Stop drinking when I'm alone and calling my ex's and telling them I was pregnant when we broke up and secretly had their baby and that they owe me back child support but that I'll take it in one lump sum and never bother them again.

12. Stop borrowing my friend's kids when I arrange to meet these ex's to pick up the check.

Things I Will Stop Doing In 2010

1.

Posted by Laura at 07:50 PM | Permalink | Comments (11) | TrackBacks (0)

I tweeted this a few weeks ago, but it bears repeating here. You know that stray cat that I kind of adopted? This one:

Yeah, her. Tinks. Well, I think she's a serial killer. She comes home every other night with blood on her. It's not hers, I check. Normally I'd be concerned for the public welfare but not in my neighborhood. The herd needs thinning, if you catch my drift.

Umm. I have to go now. She's looking through the window at me. If you don't see any entries for a while, show the authorities this blog entry. Oh, but not those stab/stalking ones, okay?

P.S. I was sent this today and it made me laugh out loud. You must have your sound on to really appreciate it.

Posted by Laura at 06:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (7) | TrackBacks (0)

Being off work a few days, getting a shit load of gifts and celebrating the birth of the Baby Jesus has not slowed down the collection of people and things I want to stab. So let's get to it, shall we?

1. Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab. The piece of shit who attempted to blow up a Detroit-bound plane on Christmas Day. Fuck you. I'd like to stab you so hard. Stab you with all my Christmas present knives until I broke every blade off in you. Now, all I can wish for is that you suffer until you are executed.

2. The weather on Christmas Day. It rained ALL day and not just a sprinkle, but an absolute downpour. We were out in it driving to and from J's parent's house. We went 4o mph the whole way on the highway.

3. The thermostat at J's parent's house. Oh. My. Fucking. God. It was 80 degrees in there AND they had a fire going in the fireplace! They are older folks of course, and they stay cold. Unwrapping my presents caused beads of sweat to start rolling down my head and neck. I passed out, but came to before anyone noticed. Good news is I lost 6 pounds. Bad news is I gained it back after I re-hydrated. Next year I'm wearing a halter top and shorts and bringing my own fan.

4. The hospital I was treated at last month whose very first bill they sent me after my insurance processed threatened me with collections! Yes, the FIRST bill I received from them. STAB.

5. J for saying that I had deleted important blog files off of my computer WHEN I DIDN'T. And if they were so important why didn't YOU make back-ups, Mr. IT person? Watch out. You armed me, remember?

6. This truck driver. I couldn't believe it so I held up my iPhone and snapped a pic. The lane on the left is a turn lane. Stupid non-driving bastard.

Posted by Laura at 05:46 PM | Permalink | Comments (14) | TrackBacks (0)

I hope everyone had a great Christmas. I sure did. Besides all the family (J's) and food, I made out like a bandit in the gift department. There are too many things to list, but a few things were a sewing machine, a chair, a fondue pot (yes, I really wanted one) a telephoto lens for my Nikon (!), enough iTunes cards to buy Steve Jobs three new livers and these:

Aren't they just perfect? After I opened them I looked for a large round package that should have accompanied them. It wasn't there. I asked J and he explained to me that they were Furi STEAK KNIVES. There's always my birthday I suppose for accessories.

Oh, and did you know that almost all Christmas items go on sale after Christmas- even pet items?

I better go hide those knives now.

Posted by Laura at 06:30 PM | Permalink | Comments (13) | TrackBacks (0)

Posted by Laura at 08:57 PM | Permalink | Comments (11) | TrackBacks (0)

What did he just call me?

Posted by Laura at 07:29 PM | Permalink | Comments (5) | TrackBacks (0)

Advice: Opinion about what could or should be done about a situation or problem; counsel.
Asylum: An institution for the care of people, especially the insane, who require organized supervision or assistance.

Put these things together and what do you have? Advice Asylum. That's right. Advice Asylum is the new site that I will be collaborating on with Sheri Gilmour and Rachel Lucas. It needs more tweeking and fine tuning but, fuck it, we're opening the doors anyway. Merry Christmas, Internets!

Advice Asylum is an advice site where we tell you how to live your life because we know what's best for you and we're not shy about telling you so. And all this advice is FREE OF CHARGE. That's right. Not a cent comes out of your pocket. Until you have to pay bail, an attorney, or an ER charge, that is. There's even a form for you to complete to ask us for advice!

We have a few entries up so you can go in, look around, get comfortable and start asking us how you should ruin run your life. As time progresses and we've destroyed helped enough people, there will be different categories created so that it will be easier for you to reference back. We're sure you'll be back if you survive once the bleeding stops you see what a big difference we make in your life.

So hop over, bookmark us, and prepare to have your life demolished changed forever.

Merry Christmas and God save bless us, every one!

Posted by Laura at 06:25 PM | Permalink | Comments (9) | TrackBacks (0)

I had to go out yesterday and finish up my Christmas shopping. Now I'm a big ole' ball of Christmas rage, so I figured it's a good time to make a Stab List.

1. People who shouldn't get you a Christmas gift but DO and give it to you early enough so that you can buy them one in return.

What. The. Fuck.

Yeah, how convenient. Now I have to find something equal in value to the thing you gave me. I like the unstated understanding amongst acquaintances that you do nothing and call it a wash. And please let me add-I am NOT talking about anyone who reads this blog. Srsly.

2. Sales clerks who stand by the checkout lines with merchandise in their hands asking if you have seen their bargain fuzzy socks that are coated in lotion for crusty feet. I am looking at you BATH AND BODY WORKS drones. Why don't you get behind that cash register and check us out and shut the fuck up?

3. People with HUGE fucking baby island strollers that block aisles because "they have a precious baby and no one would dare bump into a precious baby." Well guess what? There ARE people out there that don't give a shit about the well being of your "precious" baby and will move that FUCKING daycare on wheels. Simmer down. I rolled it out of my way; I didn't collide into it spilling the "precious" baby onto the floor which was my first instinct.

4. Cars that will sit and wait for another car to pull out of their parking space even though the people just walked out to put packages in their trunks. You are blocking all the cars behind you just so you can get a space 10 feet closer to the entrance. You should be dragged out of your car, stabbed, thrown back into your car and driven across the state line and parked, you lazy sonofabitch.

5. The Christmas songs blasting as you're weaving and bobbing in a huge crowd of RUDE ASS grumpy people. Yeah, it sets such a festive mood indeed.

6. The "hippies" down in the "hippie" artsy area of town who walk out in front of traffic like they're a "precious" baby or something. Dudes, I will hit you and leave an oily patch of patchouli on my bumper. Oh, and you dreadlock wearing mother fuckers- it's nasty matted hair, and it stinks. There is nothing cool about it. You need to be stabbed, then shaved and flea dipped.

Wow, a lot of angels got their wings with this entry!

And because it's the Christmas season and I really should be more charitable:

I'm not a monster sound bite  Primetime In No Time sound bites

Posted by Laura at 12:20 PM | Permalink | Comments (12) | TrackBacks (0)

Jack won the dance-off tonight. That's right. I have dance-offs with my pets. When the mood strikes me, I sing at the top of my lungs and dance in the middle of the room while Jack prances and jumps and spins in circles and the cats jump from one piece of furniture to another meowing. The song tonight was "You Belong With Me" by Taylor Swift. Jack was declared the winner when he became over rambunctious and started barking and lunging at the cats during the second chorus. His prize? A holiday photo shoot.

Here I think he knew he had been had and realized it was a pretty crappy prize. His "D'oh!" face:

And here is where he mentally added me to his Stab List:

Posted by Laura at 08:14 PM | Permalink | Comments (10) | TrackBacks (0)

I got an email late last Friday stating that the place where I work was having a meeting about the "future" of the company on Monday morning. Uh oh, right? Well, because I'm a pro-active sort of person, I spent the weekend thinking about my own "future." Earlier, when I gave career advice, I said don't dress for the job you have, dress for the one you want and I photoshopped my bulbous head onto a pirate. Pirates are cool and everything, and they get to stab people on a pretty regular basis, but then it occurred to me that pirates are mostly in the Caribbean or Africa. It's all tropical and hot there. I hate heat and humidity. And I'm not that into ocean travel. This next career move, I am going to put more thought into it. I want a job that won't just pay the bills but one I look forward to going to, enjoying what I'm doing. I have to be realistic. I'm getting older and I need to pick a career field that I'm not only qualified for, but one which will give me job satisfaction. These are my top three choices:

Ninja

Warrior Princess

Viking

And since I already own a taser, this is my fall-back choice:

Bounty Hunter

Posted by Laura at 06:13 PM | Permalink | Comments (11) | TrackBacks (0)

Posted by Laura at 09:20 PM | Permalink | Comments (14) | TrackBacks (0)

It was brought to my attention that I failed to put a Stab List up this week. This may be a shorter list than usual because I was in a Nyquil-induced coma for a large portion of the week, but it doesn't mean I want to stab these people/things less.

1. The asshole douchebag who came to work sick and hacked and coughed without covering their mouth. You are a fucking disgusting bio-hazard who infected half of an office. You deserve to be stabbed repeatedly, cut into pieces and removed by a medical waste company in several orange bio-hazard bags.

2. Daytime network television producers/writers/creators. What the hell? Is everyone who stays at home and watches tv supposed to have the IQ of an idiot? Thank God for the Law and Order marathon on TBS.

3. Makers of cough syrup. C'mon, your products taste like liquid shit in a bottle AND they don't work. You know how desperate a person can get to stop a cough long enough just to get some sleep, and you promise shit you can't deliver on your packaging. You are liars and you all deserve to be stabbed.

4. Pharmacists. They see you are sick as hell, that all you want to do is go home and NOT be an asshole bio-hazard who hacks in public, yet they take FOREVER counting out 30 pills and sticking a label on it. They have all 3 of their assistants doing some kind of inventory while they get on the phone to give some jerk who calls in free medical advice. Seriously, there is something very wrong with that situation.

5. All of the whores who are ratting on doing Tiger Woods. This makes you special? I just wish when shit like this happens that they wouldn't get compensated for "their story." But they will. Handsomely I'm sure. This is the kind of stuff that makes me get all stabby. People rewarded for bad behavior. And ya know, I'm not even talking about screwing the guy, I'm talking about spilling your guts after. At least be a whore with some class. Shut the fuck up.

6. People at work who turn the thermostats up to 85 degrees and it's not even winter outside! Yes, the battle of the thermostats in the office has begun with the fucking reptile people. Wear a sweater you inconsiderate sonsofabitches. Sometimes I sit at my desk, sweating, mentally picturing stabbing you all. And I'm smiling. Sometimes laughing. Manically.

P.S. Please note that I did complete a full Stab List AND managed to curse more in one entry than ever before! Sometimes I amaze myself. Not about the cursing, or that I want to stab all these people and things, but that I haven't.

P.S.S. Oh. Hell. No. A reader, jw, send me THIS. This skank needs to be shanked. PRONTO.

Posted by Laura at 07:44 PM | Permalink | Comments (12) | TrackBacks (0)

I was into my third day of having this rotten cold/flu. I was lying on my couch with my bed pillows and a quilt pulled over me. I was on my fourth box of Kleenex, with at least one box used and discarded on the floor around me. My nose was red and chapped. My eyes were watery and red and swollen from no sleep in two days. I gathered my hair into a ponytail a few days back and it had ratted out all along the back and sides, but I was too weak to put it back up. I hadn't brushed my teeth that day. Suddenly there was a knock on the door. I'm all "Who the hell?" I peeled my face off of the pillow and reached to untangle a cough drop from my hair as I looked outside and saw a UPS truck. Shit. He wasn't leaving the package. I opened the door a crack and said "Yes? You need a signature?" He said he didn't need any signature but it was heavy and he'd bring it in for me. I debated then opened the door and told him he could just set it inside. He came in with a gigantic box, set it down, and then turned around. Oh. My. Fucking. God. Dude was GORGEOUS. Like male model hawt without the gay. My mouth dropped open and I coughed or sneezed or both and quickly held a used wadded tissue I had in my hand to catch a fresh stream of mucous that was escaping my left nostril. I managed a muffled "Thank you" before the right nostril started leaking. He said something like "No problem" and turned and was out of my life as quickly as he had come. I looked down and through my open robe saw my tattered and torn t-shirt had a greasy butter stain from a failed attempt that morning at trying to eat some toast. I sighed, said, "Fuck it", and took another swig of Nyquil.

This is a poor Photoshop re-enactment. I say poor, because I look way better in this than I did "The Day The Gorgeous UPS Guy Delivered My New Desk Chair." The gorgeous UPS guy is being played by George Clooney because, well, he's gorgeous. There was way more used Kleenex scattered about, more cat hair, possibly a yakked up hairball, and there was also a mini-doxie dancing around yapping his head off. There was though, at least one cat sitting there licking his ass. I'm pretty sure of that. So actually, only the cat licking his ass is true to the story.

Posted by Laura at 07:41 PM | Permalink | Comments (13) | TrackBacks (0)

Today after work I went to take a shower in an attempt to wash away some of the suckassness of the day. As I removed my bra, I turned and caught a quick glimpse in the mirror of something disconcerting. A "spot." A discolored mole almost the size of a dime on the inward side of one of my boobs. My eyes remained on the spot as I semi-bent to remove my pants. Thoughts went running through my head. "Funny, I never saw that mole before. Shit. Look at the dark brown color. Oh hell. That can be nothing but cancer. Fuck. I guess I should make a doctor's appointment tomorrow. Dammit. I wonder if I'll have to have chemo. Fuck. Am I going to lose my hair? Double fuck. Am I going to lose a boob to melanoma? I'm not going to lose my boob. I'll do chemo, that's it. That's as far as I'll go. Fuck it."

After dropping my pants onto the floor, I walked closer to the mirror to inspect my cancer. As I pushed my boob to the side with one hand, I gingerly reached to the spot with the other. I leaned in real close to the mirror. Then I removed the smashed coffee cake brown sugar topping crumb that had apparently fallen down my top this morning.

Posted by Laura at 08:28 PM | Permalink | Comments (13) | TrackBacks (0)

Today I got up, went to work in the rain, worked, and then came home in the rain. And in between I wanted to stab everyone. My day. The end. And because what's in my head and on my hard drive is way more exciting than my reality today, I thought I'd just post a couple of things from there. Well, from my hard drive. My head is all full of rabies at the moment.

I saw Dogette's Tweet Cloud and I just had to copy. We made a pact that we could copy each other, so I present my Tweet Cloud:

These show the words you use most frequently in Twitter and are suppose to show some of your personality.

I think it's odd that I used the word "parakeets" so much. Who knew? I really thought there'd be more curse words there. I guess I need to make certain I correct that for my next fucking cloud. The coolest thing is the circled words. Chuck. Norris. That's pretty kick-ass right there.

And since I've been having fun photoshopping lately, and I have a cut out of my head and it cracks me the hell up to paste it on model's bodies, I decided to promote the new site whose grand opening should be announced any day now with a little free advice. Free career advice at that.

Don't dress for the job you have. Dress for the job you want.

Posted by Laura at 08:04 PM | Permalink | Comments (11) | TrackBacks (0)

Posted by Laura at 08:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (15) | TrackBacks (0)

Thanksgiving marks the start of the holiday season for me. Thanksgiving, then Christmas, ending with New Years. You would think the holiday season would soften my desire to stab people. Well, you would be wrong. So very, very wrong. They make me not only want to stab, but to first slam them in the face with a sock full of quarters. Happy Holidays!

1. Chase Visa. They sent me a notice that my interest rates were being raised an astronomical amount. I have NEVER missed a payment and have NEVER made a late payment. I have had their card for years and years. Well, no more. Go to Hell, Chase Visa. I'll NEVER get a card from you again.

2. Co-workers who come to work coughing and sneezing and then come over and talk to you RIGHT IN YOUR FACE. Yes, all close-talking. Get the hell away from me you disease ridden asswipe. I wanted to swing that sock as soon as I saw you headed my way.

3. I want to slam and stab the fact that your pet gets old right before your eyes. Yeah, they're big pains in the ass, but they're still your buddy and they're family.

4. Every single person on "The Hills", especially Heidi and Spencer. I really want to bash them all in the face first with a sock full of quarters just to ruin all those nose jobs. I don't usually watch it, but it came on tv and I was too lazy to look for the remote, so I sat and watched two episodes. Yes, TWO episodes. I deserve a medal of some kind.

What. The. Fuck.

First off, what idiot would even believe this show isn't scripted and what the hell? These people have got to be the stupidest, most self-centered assholes in the whole world. Oh, oh-here was Heidi's prayer over dinner, "Bless this meal, my big house, my loving husband, and my outfit." Your outfit, Heidi? Jesus H. T-Rex there's roadkill out there Heidi! Here, have some quarters. *Slam* *STAB*

5. People who wait until the last minute to buy their turkeys and trimmings. All I wanted, no NEEDED, was toilet paper. You bastards had all the lines backed up to frozen goods-INCLUDING the 10 item or less line. I wanted to bash and stab you all and walk over your bodies to the register. It's what I envisioned standing there with my four pack of Charmin.

6. People who care what Tiger Woods is doing when he's off of the golf course. Damn people, get a life. He's not George Clooney.

P.S. J asked me why I cursed so much in this entry and I explained to him that it was a religious thing, you know, because of the holidays. I said every time you curse an angel gets its wings. He said I was wrong, it's every time a bell rings. I told him that was just fucking ridiculous. Then I went looking for a sock.

Posted by Laura at 05:55 PM | Permalink | Comments (13) | TrackBacks (0)

I wanted to do an entry earlier today but saw something shinier on my computer -True Blood- and decided to watch a few episodes. That turned into watching four, and then I had to take a nap. I woke up before I could finish a dream I was having about making out with a hawt/cold vampire dude, and decided to get up after I couldn't get back to it. Instead I had the one where I showed up to some business meeting with no pants on. I bet I left them at that vampire's house. Don't you hate that? By the way, if you're not watching True Blood you're totally missing out. Watch it. Listen to me. I know what's best for you.

Speaking of knowing what's best for you, I have a little bit of news. I have joined forces with two highly talented bloggers-one being the hysterically funny Dogette from Two Nervous Dogs- to help create another site. That's right. I've been invited to sit at the cool girl's lunch table. I will be co-authoring on an advice blog! Yes, you read that correctly. We will be advising people on how to lead their lives. From childcare to relationships to moral issues, we will tell you what to do. Like "Dear Abby" but with better hair. I'll let your mind wrap around this for a second. You can email us your problems and we'll tell you how to fix them. I promise I won't just tell you to stab everyone, even though that is a cure-all. We're not experts, but we like to play them on the Internet. Satirical fun will be had by all. I'll let you all know when the site opens (it will be soon). But if you'd like to email any of your problems to me now, feel free, and they'll be answered on that site.

Oh, and here's a photo I found on my hard drive that I had forgotten about. It kind of ties in with this entry and the one about me going to Hell. Here's Jesus giving advice.

Posted by Laura at 06:25 PM | Permalink | Comments (14) | TrackBacks (0)

I remember my first Catechism classes in first grade. That was when Sister Jean Marie told us God was as old as time itself and all powerful, and that he did not look like us. So in my child's mind I imagined God was a Tyrannosaurus rex- old, powerful and non-human in appearance. Plus he could smite the shit out of you just by his mere size and strength. I was really into dinosaurs as a child. Of course I deduced that he was a magical T-Rex because he created stuff and turned people into salt and sicced locusts on folks. A magical T-Rex is pretty badass and everyone knows God doesn't play games.

It was during this same first grade Catechism class, during a Q & A period, when Sister Jean Marie told us animals didn't have souls and couldn't go to Heaven when they died. I remember feeling shock and disbelief. What kind of bogus shit was that? That night, with tears in my eyes I told my mother that I was going to Hell and I preferred it that way. She asked me why I wanted to go to Hell and I told her what the nun told us. My mom told me that the sister was mistaken, that animals do in fact go to Heaven. Then I became concerned about the cows and chickens that were killed for food and she tried to explain that "pets" go to Heaven by telling me that if an animal is loved by a human, then they can get through the Pearly Gates. This was my mother's attempt at differentiating livestock and companion animals to me.

Of course I believed my mother over a stranger in strange clothes who talked crazy talk. If you loved an animal, it went to Heaven. It made perfect sense. Armed with this knowledge I proceeded on a mission to get as many animals into Heaven as I could. If I looked out the window of the car and saw a dead squirrel on the side of the road I would close my eyes real tight and silently pray "Dear God- I loved that squirrel. Please let it into Heaven. Amen." Then I'd make the sign of the cross. "Dear God- I loved that rabbit. Please let it into Heaven. Amen." I prayed for every piece of roadkill I saw. Even the ones I couldn't identify. "Dear God- I loved that, that thing. Please let it into Heaven." In the name of the Father, the Son, the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Why am I telling you this? Because to this day when I see roadkill I still have the urge to "pray it into Heaven." Not so much wildlife, but when I see a cat or dog, and, well okay, a deer the old habit kicks in. I don't actually pray, BUT I will make the sign of the cross with a finger or two. Kind of like a priest does over a dying person's head. It's more like an OCD, subconscious kind of thing I do. It's very inconspicuous.

Monday as I was driving to work I was making a turn and there in the middle of the road was a large black furry lump. I imagined it was a dead cat. I cut my wheels so I wouldn't run over it and with one finger on my right hand that was on the steering wheel, I made my modified sign of the cross. Yay. Another cat in heaven!

That afternoon as I was leaving work, I pulled onto the same road and there was the same black furry lump. The traffic light turned red and I stopped beside the furry mass. I didn't want to but I turned and looked. Then I laughed. Here's a pic I took with my iPhone-

That is a lump of 100% acrylic hair extensions. Fake human hair. Yes, I prayed 'weave' into Heaven. May T-Rex have mercy on my soul.

CLICK PHOTO TO ENLARGE

Posted by Laura at 05:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (18) | TrackBacks (0)

Did you all realize that soon it will be 2010? Yes, 2010. Let that soak in for a minute. I don't know about you but when I was a kid most sci-fi movies about the future were set in that year. They had flying cars, complete meal capsules, travel to colonized planets, wore tight uniforms with go-go boots (the girls anyway-the men wore unitards). And of course they had my beloved killer robots.

Not only do we not have these things but we don't have any cures for major diseases. We can't teleport. We don't even have any holodecks to play in. Hell, we can't even make a cough syrup that tastes good. We don't have any of these things and guess what? We probably won't have them in any of our lifetimes. That's right. We'll never see these things. NEVER. And that pisses me off. And who do we blame you ask? The scientists? The government? Our educational system? Well, yes we can blame them to some small, tiny degree. But most of the blame belongs to this-

Whore Island sound bite  Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy sound bites

Posted by Laura at 06:02 PM | Permalink | Comments (9) | TrackBacks (0)

I had a busy weekend. I saw New Moon, which was excellent. At some point during the weekend I started watching True Blood season one episodes. I now feel like I'm a vampire expert which prepares me for a high paying, fulfilling career as much as my degree in art. This means, not so much. And that makes me want to start stabbing.

1. Recording artists who won't sell their music on iTunes. I'm pointing at you, Bob Seger. Dude, you've got to be like 100 years old by now. You'll need the money for new body parts. Just ask that thievin' Steve Jobs. Release your songs already.

2. The cashier at the grocery store on Sunday. After ringing up all but 3 of my items, the computer froze and she had to reboot. I had a full cart of items bagged and I understand these things happen and I told her "no problem" when she said it could take ten minutes to reboot. She then kept apologizing over and over and over and over. I finally just picked up a magazine and tried to ignore her. She kept apologizing. In my mind, I climbed over the conveyer belt counter thingy said "sorry" and stabbed her. Over and over and over.

3. Bella Swan in the Twilight series. Don't get me wrong, I love the books and the movies, but I so want to stab the shit out of Bella and all her whiny teen angst bullshit. She's so emo. STAB.

4. The lady at the bookstore who had a little kid with her and was talking so loudly in a cutsie little kid voice. I noticed she wasn't even looking at the kid while she was jabbering. It was like she wanted to impress people around her by how "sweet" she was talking to her kid. Uggh. You just looked simple-minded. And I think even your kid was embarrassed for you.

5. Old people in big cars in parking lots. I won't even explain why they need to be stabbed because I am certain everyone knows.

6. Everybody who reports on or anybody who gives a shit that Oprah is going to stop doing her show. I think you lost touch with your target audience after making that first billion. Go away already.

Posted by Laura at 06:14 PM | Permalink | Comments (11) | TrackBacks (0)

This morning I was watching the national news before work and one of the stories I caught was about China. It was about how their economy is booming and how enterprising Chinese are getting rich. They were interviewing different Chinese business people and every one of them said, "We want to defeat the Americans." This of course was in the context of beating their competition in whatever enterprise they were in.

Yeah. Sure.

Wake up, people! China wants to take over. FACT. How do I know this to be a fact? It's not because I read about how much we owe them or how reliant we are on their cheap exports that I've drawn this conclusion. Oh no. I know this to be true because of my addiction to MSG. That's right; I know this from my Chinese lunches. Let me explain-

Step One: Deflate Your Enemy's Morale.

This week I have ordered Chinese food for lunch twice from a great little Chinese restaurant that delivers. Both times I got General Tso Chicken. It is delicious. I could not help it. Don't judge. This dish comes in a small single serving container, yet they put two forks in the bag, as if to say "Hey fatass, there's enough food here for two people." Then they toss in two sad pieces of broccoli on top of the meat. This says "Hey future by-pass recipient, here's your total vegetable intake for the month, that is IF you accidently eat it."

You may think I'm exaggerating or making this shit up, or that I'm paranoid. Yeah well, okay, I'm a little paranoid, but look at the fortunes that came in my cookies.

Step Two: Instill Fear.

"A distant relative will phone you soon."

Great. Now I'm supposed to come up with bail money and/or attorney fees. That's the only reason a distant relative would call.

Step Three: Instill Complete Dependency and Acceptance.

"Be magnanimous, be trustful, be hopeful and be patient."

Yeah, right China. This is an attempt to make us compliant; to become Borg-like drones for their collective.

Step Four: Complete Assimilation.

Now look at the Chinese words they are attempting to teach us:

Egg roll and ice cream. Nothing but food items. This is for after the take-over and Chinese is the only language spoken. All we'll be able to do is order more food that will keep us fat and sluggish and hungry again an hour later.

Well, fuck you China and the yak you rode in on! You'll never take me alive you commie red bastards!

Oh, hold up. Friday's special is Sesame Chicken.

Resistance is futile.

Posted by Laura at 06:16 PM | Permalink | Comments (11) | TrackBacks (0)

Even though I was down for the count for a few days last week, I still have a Stab List to fill. Rage doesn't take a vacation, people.

1. My cat Thelma for attempting to kill my dog again. It's all in the post from yesterday. She is evil.

2. J. Yes, J again. I asked him to contact some yard services for me, because my yard now resembles a wildlife preserve it's so overgrown, and ask them to come by and give me estimates. What does J do? He emails me a Google map of my neighborhood with near-by lawn services places marked with balloons. Yes, he did.

3. Steve Jobs. This time I rented a movie in iTunes (a horror flick called "Grace" about a zombie baby) and it would not play on my computer. I had to uploaded it to my iPhone and watch it there. Stop stealing my money Steve Jobs and fix your fucking site. By the way, I recommend this movie. It is wicked gross, and that's just the natural childbirth scene. Rent it today, but not from iTunes.

4. People that don't know shit but are bullshit artists. I am so sick of these folks getting ahead in life. You're a fucking, lazy idiot whose only talent is to bullshit the unsuspecting. You fool no one BUT your superiors. I want to stab you and everyone that falls for your bullshit.

5. This time change. I'm sorry. I have tried to adjust and I can't. Who thought of this shit anyway? I want to stab them.

6. My hairdresser who stopped working Saturdays to do something silly like raise kids or be with her husband or some kind of stupid ass shit like that. I need my hair cut. It's going to be at my waist soon. I'm starting to look like a sister-wife or something. I don't want to take off of work for a freaking hair cut. Jesus, I hope I have better luck replacing her than I did my yard guy. I won't ask J to help me search for another.

Posted by Laura at 06:29 PM | Permalink | Comments (9) | TrackBacks (0)

I wasn't going to do an entry tonight, but I have decided that I am going to start documenting the insanity around my house with these animals. I know you all have read my bitching and complaining about living in a warped, fucked up Disney movie. Well, I'm going to start proving it.

I was taking a shower earlier and when I shower I like to listen to my radio and yes, sometimes I sing along. Okay, dammit I sing continually. But that's neither here nor there. I am just making a point that I cannot hear anything else when I am in there and I am generally in there a long time because concerts take time, people. Anyway, as I was turning off the water and the radio I heard a sorrowful whining and howling. What the fuck? I grabbed a robe and ran out into the living room where the sound was coming from. There sat my dog Jack on the couch with a hair clip stuck in his mouth. The handle thingy was lodged in his lower canine teeth. Thelma was sitting on the floor looking up at him. Smiling.

Here are a few pics to give you an idea of his predicament.

He was laying there whining and whimpering with drool running down the front of the sofa. He must have been there a long time. The front of the sofa was sopping wet. Thelma fled as I approached. Anyway, I quickly removed the hair clip and within three seconds Jack had already forgotten he had been traumatized. He is none too bright.

This dog is eight years old and will still chew anything that hits the ground. I don't leave things where he can get to them. This clip was in my bedroom where there is a child's safety gate up that is specifically for keeping him out. I know the clip was there for a fact because I saw it on my dresser just prior to getting in the shower. This means Thelma, who is notorious for carrying things, carried it over the gate to him. This is not the first time Thelma has tried to kill Jack by throwing down, or carrying things for him to chew on. I have vet bills to prove that. Seriously, I'm pretty certain she has taken a life insurance policy out on him. And if this is true, she better split it with me.

Posted by Laura at 08:18 PM | Permalink | Comments (14) | TrackBacks (0)

Posted by Laura at 06:59 PM | Permalink | Comments (4) | TrackBacks (0)

Did you all miss me? Yes, I was gone for a few days. I was actually in the hospital. How dramatic is that? I am fine. Everything is fine. I just got out today and have been busy washing all of the adhesive off. Goddamn, they tape EVERYTHING to you. I had a GORGEOUS doctor. Seriously. Every time he'd come in to check on me part of my sheet would "accidently" fall away at strategic "areas." The nurses kept covering me back up. Bitches. I finally behaved because I was quite certain they were about to tape the sheet on me.

Anyway, things should get back to normal soon, whatever normal is around here.

I know I have fallen behind on educating you people so here's a PSA sound bite:

Myth and fact about rabies sound bite  The Office (US) sound bites

Posted by Laura at 05:44 PM | Permalink | Comments (20) | TrackBacks (0)

I get asked all the time how my rabies is doing so I decided to make this chart. Now when I'm asked I can just point to the current danger level on the chart. Of course if I'm in level red I advise against asking. Hell, I advise against direct eye contact.

Posted by Laura at 05:41 PM | Permalink | Comments (9) | TrackBacks (0)

I know you have all been anticipating Monday’s Stab List so without further ado:

1. The South Carolina Department of Transportation that closed down a major road, blocked it off, and put one detour sign that lead me into “the projects” with NO DIRECTIONS on how to get out. It was early and still dark and all I knew was I wanted the fuck out of there.

2. The “helpful” lady at Target who followed me around to tell me what products she uses and why. I didn’t ask you, lady. Twice I managed to smile and say thank you and walk away. She followed me. I headed for the knives in house wares. CLEAN UP IN AISLE 5! That last part happened in my head.

3. The fire ants that have taken over my yard, or as I like to call it, The Abandoned Lot. One mound is shaped just like a pyramid. Same size as one too. No shit. I hate fire ants. Since they’re too small to stab individually, I just sprinkled poison on them. It was less satisfying.

4. The lady on the elevator who let her snotty nose, sneezing kid actually smear its BOOGERS on the keypad. I said “Oh Jesus Christ that’s gross” to a blank stare and exited on the wrong floor just to get out of there.

5. The garbage men who once again failed to empty my trash bin. Maybe it’s my tall grass scaring them off. I don’t know. I just want them stabbed.

6. People who ride mopeds in rush hour traffic. What the fuck? I want to stab you and your scooter and throw you both in a ditch.

Posted by Laura at 06:56 PM | Permalink | Comments (15) | TrackBacks (0)

I woke up with a headache and a full blown case of rabies this morning so I called J and told him I would be staying home. The animals have taken turns driving me insane. I swear to God I live in a fucked up Disney movie.

This clip from Step Brothers (BEST Will Ferrell movie EVER) relates how I feel today:

Posted by Laura at 06:50 PM | Permalink | Comments (5) | TrackBacks (0)

From time to time people get me things that they say remind them of me. I like to put pictures of some of these things up on this blog. I think they tell me a lot about people's perception of me. I get a lot of witches, goth and voodoo things. With that being said, a few weeks ago I mentioned to J that I should get a 2010 calendar now because last year I put it off so long that it was August before I thought about it again. Oh, I'd glance at the blank space on the pantry door whenever I was wondering when the next pay day was, or the next holiday and then think to myself "Dammit, I really need a new calendar." But people, I am incredibly lazy when it comes to shit like that.

Last week J came in the house with a bag and I asked what it was. He said he got me a 2010 calendar. He said this one reminded him of me when he saw it. I took the bag and pulled this out:

I looked at it and said "THIS made you think of me?" I think he thought I was offended and he immediately flipped it over to point to September's picture:

I almost bought it but then I spotted December's picture:

He knows me so well.

P.S. Here's a Lexus LFA:

It's like looking in a mirror, people.

Posted by Laura at 05:40 PM | Permalink | Comments (14) | TrackBacks (0)

It's been a boring day and while driving home from work I thought I'd stop at the grocery store and get stuff to make myself a breakfast dinner. I love breakfast for dinner. Anyway, here are some charts and graphs to tell the the story.

Posted by Laura at 08:51 PM | Permalink | Comments (12) | TrackBacks (0)

That's right. My crazy ass neighbor has moved her couch out into her yard. It does not appear that it was moved to the curb for garbage pick up. It seems more that it was placed there so she can sit and watch people in her polyester leopard print nightie. It's been cooler here so she has added a feather collared matching shortie robe. I am guessing this is why she cut all her shrubs down earlier; to have a better view of the road while she's lounging on her sofa. That Betty is a planner.

Posted by Laura at 08:02 PM | Permalink | Comments (13) | TrackBacks (0)

It's Monday Stab List time and even though I lost an hour with this Daylight Savings thing, I never lost wanting to stab most of the people I came in contact with. I do try to shorten my list to the top six because I don't want to appear too sociopath-ey.

1. Yahoo, who hosts my blog. It updated and my publishing platform didn't so my comments went balls up. I didn't know my comments broke and I emailed dogette telling her that my readers hated me after the giveaway was over. I typed this through tears. We were plotting revenge trying to figure out what was wrong when someone notified me that they were unable to comment. So I am going to believe that literally hundreds of you were just unable to comment. Yes. Hundreds.

2. Everyone at Sam's Club on Saturday. Goddamn. People are ruthless in big lot stores. And those extra large carts just make it more dangerous. They are like the Humvees of carts and people yield them as weapons.

3. The cashier at Sam's who took the feta cheese we purchased, informed us there was no price sticker on it and just walked away with it. We didn't know if she went on break or went to get a price. In the meantime five, nay, THOUSANDS of people were sighing and groaning behind us like it was our fault. I gave them all my evil eye. She returned after an eternity and informed us she got another. I was going to tell her I wanted a different size package just to be a dick to the people in line, but J pleaded with me with his eyes not to. I relented.

4. ANOTHER yard service company that DID NOT SHOW for an estimate. Can you fucking believe it?! I am starting to think my house was built on top of a sacred Indian burial ground. Or maybe word of my Stab List is leaking. This is just ridiculous.

5. People who go to make a left hand turn and swing their cars over to the right like they are driving an eighteen-wheeler. Idiots.

6. J. For: saying my iPhone case made me look like I was 12, keeping the white pumpkin I got for Halloween and left in his trunk, hogging the remote and changing channels when a George Clooney movie was on, pleading with me to not torture people at Sam's.

Posted by Laura at 06:28 PM | Permalink | Comments (14) | TrackBacks (0)

The Murderous Asshole Animals educational series is continuing in Twitter. I'm going to post some in here in case there are some folks that are afraid of Twitter. I should be. My account was hijacked by a spam bot. I took it back and stabbed the bot. Well, okay, I changed my password. That's the same as stabbing in Twitter.

This week I covered murderous asshole bunnies,

murderous asshole hamsters,

murderous asshole chipmunks,

and murderous asshole (and sexual predator) dolphins.

* I made these on my iPhone using the Ransom Notes and the Image Pro Apps. I know you probably don't care but I HAD to mention my iPhone. I'm douchey like that.

Posted by Laura at 07:15 PM | Permalink | Comments (9) | TrackBacks (0)

My Top 10 Imaginary Boyfriends
I should say The Top 10 as of today's date. All are subject to change at any moment, excluding #1. He's permanent. Call me, George Clooney.

1. George Clooney

2. David Beckham

3. Johnny Depp

4. Denzel Washington

5. Patrick Stewart

6. Ralph Fiennes

7. Edward Norton

8. Hugh Laurie

9. David Boreanaz

10. Robert Pattinson

Posted by Laura at 06:23 PM | Permalink | Comments (23) | TrackBacks (0)

I've had it. This 9-5 shit just isn't for me. I've thought it out and decided that I need to take my life in a new direction. But what do you do when you have no discernible talents or ambition?

Sex tapes.

Laugh if you want--but look what it did for Paris Hilton and Kim Kardashian. They're millionaires! Spokespersons! Fashion icons! Yeah, I know they're both idiots. But ya'll, they're millionaires!

Well okay, so I'm not exactly going to sell a sex tape of me getting busy. Because, well, yuck and also I think I'll go broke that way. No. What I have in mind is much like the way I ran my stripping business in college. Yes, I was a stripper; well, okay, no I wasn't. I would go to the clubs and threaten to remove articles of clothing unless the dollar bills got handed over. Hey, it paid for tuition, housing and a new car. Not too shabby, eh? Now for my sex tape business, I'll build a site and THREATEN to release a sex tape unless people send me $19.95. That's right. I'll take Paypal or Visa/Mastercard. You pay me NOT to make a sex tape. It will be like you're saving the world or something. Think of it like you're winning points for heaven. "But St. Peter, I helped stop the making of Laura's sex tape!" "Well, in that case we'll forget about that family of five you murdered, come on in!"

I'll be a millionaire! I'll go to LA and live the life. If my math is right, I should have a resisting arrest charge for attempting to climb George Clooney's gate by March. I'll do a short stent in rehab and BAM, not only rich BUT famous. Then I'll do what celebrities do--wear fancy sunglasses.

Posted by Laura at 06:05 PM | Permalink | Comments (11) | TrackBacks (0)

It's hard to believe it's Monday again and time for another Stab List. It's also hard to believe that there's ALWAYS people and things I want to stab. Well, okay, it's not that hard to believe.

1. Everyone who was at the S.C. State Fair the day I went. Goddamn, people that fall off turnip trucks are RUDE. If I had had my way it would have been renamed the S.C. Bloodbath Festival.

2. The two cats that woke me up early Saturday morning. Fighting, sexing, domestic dispute, drug deal gone bad, whatever the hell you two were doing, you both needed to be stabbed.

3. The little bitch I saw pull out in front of the car beside me that had to swerve to avoid hitting you. I plainly saw you were TEXT MESSAGING. You stupid bitch. I hope when something really happens (because it will), it only happens to YOU and that other people aren't injured because of your dumbass self. STAB.

4. EVERY lawn care company in Columbia. I hate you all equally.

5. The H1N1 virus and everyone that keeps talking about it. Go away already.

6. George Clooney's WHORE.

Posted by Laura at 05:30 PM | Permalink | Comments (14) | TrackBacks (0)

I have been out of town most of today and I twittered a few pictures on my series of "Murderous Asshole Animals." Today I was educating the public about asshole Pandas. They are the Charles Mansons of the animal world. I am going to post a few here, but if you are interested in the complete series you will need to follow me in Twitter on the weekends. That's where you will can get your masters degree in Murderous Asshole Animals (MMAA).

Posted by Laura at 08:46 PM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)

If you follow me on Twitter you may have noticed that I have decided to continue educating the people and also that I bought the Ransom Note iPhone App. Since apparently EVERYONE has a weekend life off of the computer, I am going to do most of my goofing on Twitter on the weekends. I will be a weekend Twitterer. This weekend the lesson is Murderous Ducks. They are assholes; especially the babies. Here's a taste of what I'm posting in Twitter:

And sometimes I like to mix up my curriculum so that people don't get bored.

Don't forget to enter the giveaway. If you haven't bookmarked it, click that blue button under the banner, the one that says "Click Here to Enter, ect." If you don't see your comment after allowing time for my lazy ass to release them out of moderation, be sure to refresh your browser (because of the cache) or email me. So follow me on Twitter and learn a thing or two. I'm like Sidney Poitier in "To Sir, With Love" except I'm white, a female, and I would have stabbed those kids.

Posted by Laura at 04:50 PM | Permalink | Comments (10) | TrackBacks (0)

Posted by Laura at 08:40 PM | Permalink | Comments (8) | TrackBacks (0)

I hope everyone is entering the giveaway. I want you all to be prepared for the Zombie Apocalypse, but I can only afford to outfit one of you. The rest of you are doomed will have to outfit yourselves; except Eric who won the last giveaway. But then I didn't ARM him, so his chances still aren't good. Just to clear some things up, you can take the $125.00 in an Amazon gift certificate or iTunes cards if you already have a chainsaw or are a pacifist and know you're going to get eaten anyway. Comments need to be made on that entry. If you click on that blue button above this entry it will take you to the giveaway. If you want to enter the giveaway but feel bad talking shit about George Clooney's WHORE, then too bad, you are ZOMBIE BAIT. Look, friends support friends. Just look at what Dogette sent me to add to my voodoo altar scrapbook:

Posted by Laura at 06:08 PM | Permalink | Comments (7) | TrackBacks (0)

It's Monday and we all know what that means. Yes, My Stab List. Without further ado, I present the list of people and things I wanted to plunge a knife into this past week.

1. My dog Jack who guilted me AGAIN into getting him another bed. He sat and stared everyday shivering; little dog tears forming in his eyes. The little fucker.

2. Balloon boy's parents, the news people that first reported it, and everyone who continues to talk about it.

3. The crazy-lazy-eyed man at the dry cleaners that looked at me and said in a really creepy way, "Are you a natural redhead?" What the fuck? Don't even look at me, crazy-lazy-eyed dry cleaning man.

4. The friend who is having a baby and told me she didn't like gift cards OR cash. This forced me to go purchase baby shit. This is equivalent to asking some Joe off the street to go purchase surgical instruments. STAB.

5. The lady at the store that had one of those huge carts shaped like a car with two chillens in it that HAD to come down my aisle and say "Can I get by?" She had the whole fucking store and 6 other aisles that were EMPTY. First thing I thought was "STAB", but then I remembered what Dogette did in the airport when confronted by an idiot with an idiot request. I looked at her, adapting a lobotomized blank stare complete with open mouth, and even though I didn't have food to fall out of my mouth, there definitely was a tiny stream of saliva forming and about to fall out of the corner when she said "Nevermind!" and backed away. Thank you, Dogette. You should travel the country and give seminars. I still wanted to stab the lady though.

6. George Clooney's WHORE.

P.S. I know I have been engaging you all in the mystery of October 20th. Well, because I am a rebel and I don't follow rules very well, especially my own, I have decided that tomorrow's entry will be going up tonight after my favorite network show "The Big Bang Theory." So check back later or just wait until tomorrow after you're well rested.

Posted by Laura at 05:14 PM | Permalink | Comments (7) | TrackBacks (0)

I know you all thought I was lying to you yesterday about opening boxes from France so here's proof. This is my French package from France that arrived yesterday:

I almost couldn't open my French box from France because the directions were in French. Then I remembered I had a French to English translator app on my iPhone. Merci Monsieur Steve Jobs, you stealing sonofabitch.

This is the French contents of my French box from France:

I then got out my bong. Those are French COOKING herbs from France and French candy animals from France for my decorated cakes. Aren't they adorable? Oui they are. Merci, Mademoiselle Alison! Feel better soon! If any of my French is fucked up, blame Steve Jobs.

Oh, but I did not watch any horror movies last night, so I did lie. As some kind of cosmic punishment for the lie I have to go buy a BABY gift today for someone. Karma is a bitch. I'll never lie again. Fact. Not really.

Posted by Laura at 09:46 AM | Permalink | Comments (6) | TrackBacks (0)

I am exhausted after my emotional roller coaster yesterday. I would like to thank all those who supported me during one of my darkest hours. And to the ones who didn't (DUANE and GARGS), BURN IN HELL, FUCKERS!

I would also like to take this opportunity to say that if any of you guys are following me on Twitter and I haven't followed you back, let me know. I get so many spam bots adding me that I don't know who is real anymore. Yeah, I'm a total lamer. If you're not following me on Twitter you are missing out on pics of my lunches, pets, and total sporadic moronic babble. Sometimes I talk smack to the celebs, but they just ignore me. Now I bet you all know why I don't work in advertising.

You can see by the pie chart above that your education is continuing. Knowledge doesn't stop just because I have a crisis. Also, Dogette left a gem of a FACT in comments on the last entry, which I am now presenting to you all:

*This excludes anyone that isn't George Clooney's WHORE living in Studio Fucking City.

Posted by Laura at 05:17 PM | Permalink | Comments (11) | TrackBacks (0)

Every morning I listen to the CBS News before I go to work. This morning as I was getting sleep crud out of the corner of my eyes I heard "Actor George Clooney moves in Italian girlfriend and gives her a ring, details after this commercial break." What the fuck? Did I hear that right? So I ran into the living room, turned up the volume, and stood there waiting for the story. Sure enough, they said he moved his Italian WHORE into his Beverly Hills home and has given the WHORE a ring. Their words, I swear, well, that's what I heard anyway.

Now at this point of my tale I want to convey how I felt at that moment, so I made you a pie chart:

I then Twittered the news I had just heard because I was rushed for time and I needed words of support under 140 characters. Within minutes, tweets of sympathy started pouring in. Some (Dogette) even suggested that I take a personal day. Others (Alison) showed their support by ranting about the WHORE.

Driving to work I knew what to expect throughout the day; people would start coming up to me going "Oh, did you hear George Clooney is engaged?" with smirks on their faces. Others would email me photos and stories (GARGS). I couldn't take the day off, so I just got my Stab List out and a pen ready.

Then I got an email from Dogette telling me the news reports were false (FALSE!) and she sent me a link where George's people denied the rumors. Here's a pie chart expressing how I felt after reading that story:

Yes. LIES! ALL LIES! What the fuck has the media become in this country? Don't they have FACT checkers? Anyway, I'm looking into suing them for mental distress. J says I'd have a hard case to prove because I'd need to prove I was stable prior to the false report. Here's a pie chart of how I felt when J said that:

Posted by Laura at 02:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (21) | TrackBacks (0)

It has been a busy day. A busy day, but I have found time to continue educating you people because that's what I do. I am a people person and besides, I can run something into the ground harder than anyone else I know.

And while I am educating you all I would like to make a few recommendations. First, go see Zombieland. Run, don't walk.

And if you're not watching "The Big Bang Theory" you seriously need to re-evaluate your life. It and "The New Adventures of Old Christine" are the best shows on network television. Big Bang Theory is about four young friends that are brilliant scientists and are extremely socially dysfunctional. Last night's episode had me laughing so hard my animals looked at me all weird and shit. But what's new, right? Anyway, I found the clip, watched it and laughed again, so I am going to share it, because again, I am a people person and people persons share. If you don't find this funny, you are dead inside and are probably a zombie.

In this episode Shelton hired Raj (both are physicists) as his assistant so that Raj wouldn't be deported after he lost his grant. This is two scientists at work:

P.S. I know there are some of you who are prepared for an advanced curriculum, so here's a graph for extra credit. Don't worry I have a policy of 'no reader left behind' so the graph will not be on Friday's test.

P.S.S. That's right. I am going to drive you nuts with charts, graphs, and facts. You're going to go "What the fuck? All she does anymore is charts, graphs, and facts! Arrgggh!" And I'm going to laugh and say "That's right. It's charts, graphs, and facts all the fucking time. Because I'm the boss around here and when I want fucking charts, graphs, and facts, it's fucking charts, graphs, and facts we'll have!" At least until I get bored with them.

Posted by Laura at 04:53 PM | Permalink | Comments (10) | TrackBacks (0)

It's Monday so it's time for my Stab List. My dream is to one day not have anyone or anything on this list. I don't think that's ever going to happen.

1. The man that coughed on me in the elevator. That is just gross and I want you stabbed, then an autopsy done to see just what the fuck you had. Hopefully it was just rabies because I already have that.

2. The bitch at the grocery store who cut her cart in front of me THREE times. I gave her my evil look but she seemed impervious to it. So I rammed her cart hard on the third try and gave her my "I will stab you, bitch" look, which is actually more evil than my evil look. I never saw her again after that.

3. All AMERICAN company recordings that ask me to press 1 or 2 for English. Fuck you.

4. I still want to stab my yard guys-the one I fired and the one who never showed up. My yard looks like the African plains now. It's all tall dead grass. Soon I will have to hire Masai warriors to escort me back and forth to the mailbox so lions don't jump my ass. Speaking of which-

5. My mailman who has decided that throwing a package down near the mailbox is just as good as putting it on my porch. I'll show you what "going postal" is all about, Mr. Mailman. Wait, maybe he's just afraid of the lions and I'm being too hard on him. Nah, I want him stabbed anyway.

6. My dog who was sitting in the middle of the tattered remains of TWO dog beds when I came home from work today. That's right. He has now destroyed FOUR dog beds. He wagged his tail. I shook my head.

P.S. The pie chart is to further educate you. There will be a test on Friday.

Posted by Laura at 04:26 PM | Permalink | Comments (13) | TrackBacks (0)

So he didn't get the part in CSI: Miami as "Dead Hooker Number 3."

And he didn't get an audition for Law and Order: Special Victims Unit as "The OD'ed Junkie Whore."

But I'm not giving up. Now we're trying to get an audition for CSI: NY.

For this part he'll play a party kid

who goes to raves held in abandoned warehouses,

gets high on Esctasy, also known as "X",

picks a fight,

and dies in a knife fight.

Let's hope he really nailed it this time.

Posted by Laura at 04:06 PM | Permalink | Comments (12) | TrackBacks (0)

I'm kind of pissed that I did all that "You must weekend blog" thing. I totally understand why politicians have a hard time standing behind their promises. I need to go all political here and just say fuck it and fly to Argentina or something.

I had a nightmare last night. I have the same one like twice a year. It's where I have a BABY and I keep dropping it. The nightmare is that I have it, not the dropping part. Anyway, I have this baby and every time I pick it up I drop it on it's head. A friend told me once some bullshit that the dream meant subconsciously I feel like I let the opportunity of having a child pass me by. What the fuck? Umm, thank God. I think it just means I'm a klutz and it's a good thing I never had a baby because it would be brain damaged.

J had to go out of town today so I was left to my own devices. I had every intention of cleaning the house, but mostly I just cruised iTunes (fuck you Steve Jobs), Twitter and Amazon. Then I napped on and off all day. I kind of hate doing that. It makes me groggy all day. But I did it anyway. Then I got hungry so I made a pan of roasted asparagus and ate it all. Now I need a nap.

P.S. I had a brilliant idea today; to open a male hair salon and call it "Blow Jobs." I don't do hair, so I'd have to hire a bunch of hairdressers.

Posted by Laura at 04:37 PM | Permalink | Comments (7) | TrackBacks (0)

Posted by Laura at 08:35 PM | Permalink | Comments (7) | TrackBacks (0)

I printed out my email receipts from iTunes and screen shots of my iTunes totals and gave them to J to review the shenanigans that have been going on with my iTunes funds. This is what followed:

Me: "See. I told you Steve Jobs was stealing from me! Do the math!"

J: Scanning the papers. "Jesus Christ." Shaking head.

Me: "Yes, out and out thievery! I told you so!"

J: "No. I'm talking about your purchases. Zombie Weatherman app, Miley Cyrus, The Carpenters, Nickleback. Oh God, MC Hammer? No wonder they're taking extra money from you."

Me: "What the hell does that mean?"

J: "They're trying to save you from yourself."

Posted by Laura at 06:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (6) | TrackBacks (0)

I think Dogette linked to someone who had made a map about a month or so ago showing their comfort area of driving. (I cannot remember who or where, but if it was you, let me know so I can give you kudos or a link. Ahh, Sad Old Goth is the blog- thanks Jim!) I stole borrowed the idea and made my own map so I could show you my crazy. Graphics are very important when displaying insanity. In this map I show my "Safe Area." This is where I am comfortable driving. Please note that more than half of this area is Fort Jackson; a military post that I haven't been on since I became a civilian YEARS ago. It's also important to point out that my "Safe Area" is a fucking island; an island surrounded by scary shit I will not drive in. My "Safe Area" is so small I can barely turn around in it, and escape through the scary is limited and terrifying. It's almost like I need to be airlifted out. But once outside the scary zone is freedom. I can drive anywhere there, excluding the cities listed in the legend though. And that list can always be added to as the crazy takes over and/or I take more vacations.

*My favorite city to drive in: Minneapolis-St. Paul, Minnesota.

**My favorite state to drive in: Wyoming. No speed limit. No other cars. Yippee ki-yay, motherfucker.

Posted by Laura at 04:23 PM | Permalink | Comments (12) | TrackBacks (0)

Actual conversation I had with an AMERICAN Customer Service Representative with a major AMERICAN company.

CSR: "And the address?"

Me: "Blah, blah, blah, Columbia, South Carolina, blah."

CSR: "Columbia what?"

Me: "South Carolina."

CSR: "Is that one word or two?"

Me: "Pardon me?"

CSR: "I SAID IS THAT ONE WORD OR TWO?!" (all bitchy like)

Me: "One."

Posted by Laura at 04:46 PM | Permalink | Comments (19) | TrackBacks (0)

No trees fell on or near me today, which I guess is a good thing. That was so freaky yesterday. It didn't even register in my mind as I saw the tree coming down just what in the hell was happening. They say your life flashes before your eyes, but not really. Well, not for me anyway. I've had weird shit happen to me before where I could have died or almost did die and mostly I just curse. Imagine that. Even when I was a good little Catholic kid and was hit by car I remember turning and just thinking "Oh shit this is going to hurt." And it did. All I can say is my thoughts are always "Oh Shit" or "Oh hell" or "Oh fuck." Always.

I had to stop by the pet store to get TWO pet beds. You remember my dog destroyed the two previous beds because the asshole cat was laying in them. I know most of you think he's getting even with me for dressing him up as a transvestite hooker, but I disagree. So anyway, I went into the store and they had ONE small bed. So I got it and will just plan on going to another store tomorrow for the second bed. I am just too tired tonight to go running around town for these damn animals. I came home, set that one down, turned around and my cat Thelma was in it. I caught Jack staring at her all mopey and shit so I kicked her ass out of the bed and put it up until I can get a second one. I swear to God it's like I'm running a freaking animal psych ward here most days.

Anyway, I snapped a pic of Thelma before I tossed her out of the bed.

Posted by Laura at 05:01 PM | Permalink | Comments (9) | TrackBacks (0)

Here's my Stab List. I'm going directly into it because I really, really want to stab people and things today.

1. The big ass tree that fell on one of the cars in front of me while I was driving home today in the rain. It caused me to slam on my brakes and slide sideways like a stunt driver in the movies. Except stunt drivers in the movies wouldn't have about pissed themselves and cried out "OH SHIT I'M GOING TO DIE!" No one was hurt, miraculously. The car that the tree landed on was scraped up, dented and had a window busted out. The car beside me which did not slide sideways busted two tires and a rim on said tree. I want to stab that tree, even though it's dead anyway.

2. All the people in the cars that came up behind us and blew their horns even though there was a HUGE FUCKING TREE COVERING ALL FOUR LANES.

3. Steve Jobs. I bought 3 songs and 1 application this weekend and as I bought these things my balance went down appropriately. After I brought my iTunes back up an hour later there was $1.10 mysteriously missing. Steve Jobs IS stealing from me and I want to stab him.

4. The garbage men that failed to collect my garbage even though I had it on the curb. This isn't the first time they didn't do their jobs, but if I had my way, it would be the last.

5. My Photoshop that just went wacky on me for no reason. It pissed me off so much trying to make a FACT for you all that I just said FUCK IT and closed it down. So there is no educational picture with a FACT on it. You will have to remain ignorant today.

6. My dog again who destroyed ANOTHER bed. I am convinced he's doing this because one of the cats, Thelma, is getting in his bed and he has a fit. So I want to stab Thelma also. Instead, I will go buy TWO beds and just want to stab myself.

Posted by Laura at 05:01 PM | Permalink | Comments (9) | TrackBacks (0)

Well, Jack didn't get that part in CSI: Miami. You remember don't you, for "Dead Hooker Number 3"?

They said he wasn't quite right for the part; something about going with a more "classic look and also human." Whatever.

But that's alright, we're not giving up. He's going to try to get an audition next week for a part in Law & Order: Special Victims Unit, so I took some more photos for his portfolio. It's for a bit part, but they gave me the background. For this role he'll play a redheaded mid-western girl following her dreams of becoming a dancer on Broadway in New York City.

Once there she becomes pretty street smart and starts hanging with the wrong crowd.

She starts using heroin. The big H. And even turns tricks to support her habit.

She stays stoned most of the time.

Until finally she O.D.s on some bad shit her pimp gave her.

I think he nailed it.

Posted by Laura at 07:08 AM | Permalink | Comments (14) | TrackBacks (0)

It has been an educational week. Not only have I been educating you all with my Facts, but I have been learning how to blog over at Two Nervous Dogs. Apparently I have been doing it all wrong. I will try to do better, but I doubt I will.

There will be blogging this weekend again even though I'm doing it wrong. So all the cool people let me know if I need to go check out your blogs. I don't like just checking on my own. I am extremely lazy and it also pisses me off to pop in to find Friday's, or even Thursday's post, and then come Monday people are all "Oh wow my weekend was so busy! We went to meet Biff and Buffy, yadda yadda." I want to stab you.

Today at work I was sent two pictures of George Clooney with his new girlfriend in two seperate emails. I don't remember this supposed girlfriend's name. I don't want to look it up. I don't want to remember her name. Let's just call her WHORE. Anyway, I'm emailed pics of him with this WHORE and I'm thinking "Goddammit stop sending pictures of this WHORE" Then I got an email from Dogette that read "Oh! I saw Clooney's pic with some 'gal pal' in People magazine this morning. Took a pen out and blacked her teeth out for you. Salon owner LOLd when I explained." Now this is what I'm talking about people! I am going to ask all of you to do the same. When you are out and about having an exciting life and you see a magazine or paper with a picture of George Clooney with the WHORE, please blacken her teeth, give her acne, funky-ass glasses, or just bear down real hard with a pen and scrape her face off for me will you? I would love it. You can even send me a pic of your work or post it on your blog! We'll start a grassroots operation here! But please do not email me for reimbursement when you are forced to pay for defacing these publications. Just know that I appreciate you and your efforts.

Oh, I almost forgot. I learned this in Dogette's Blogging Workshop- "Knowing when to use graphics to ENGAGE your readers."

Posted by Laura at 05:32 PM | Permalink | Comments (10) | TrackBacks (0)

What the hell do you say when someone comes up to you all excited and says "OH! OH! I know it's not your birthday, but I saw something and it was so YOU that I had to get it and give it to you!" And you open it and see this:

I looked at it and said, "Well, umm. Thanks?" What the fuck? This card made her think of me? Then she told me to open it.

"It plays music, but I got it because of the flying monkeys!"

I can honestly say that when I first saw the outside of the card my feelings were a little hurt and it made me sad. I hadn't felt that bad since that house landed on my sister. Mentally, I was adding her to my Stab List, and her little dog too.

Thank you Doni for my card. And thank you for being my friend. I will take you off my Stab List. For now.

Posted by Laura at 08:04 PM | Permalink | Comments (10) | TrackBacks (0)

I got an email this morning from my manager. I can't make it a jpg. Most of it had to be blacked out because of confidential work shit and names, and to resize it made it unreadable. So here's a cut and paste of it with names removed.

From Manager: Please read below and let me know what you think and how you feel. Thanks.

From CEO: Historically THE PLACE I WORK have supported BLANK Children’s Home through the Christmas giving program. Children’s “wish list” is placed on an angel card and interested PEOPLE HERE can select cards from the Christmas tree and bring their gifts to the office during the designated collection time. The BLANK Children’s Home is inquiring of THE PLACE I WORK participation interest this year. In light of the economy, financial challenges and burdens some have faced, the Senior Team felt it best if you as Manager's would meet with and poll your staff regarding their preference and interest. Please meet with your staff and poll them regarding interest and recommendations. Please forward your staff members feedback to A PERSON no later than Friday, October 9.

Here's my reply to my manager:

I think orphans still need a Christmas. Patrons also take cars from that tree. So I vote yes, we should have the tree.

I saw my typo after I had sent it, so I immediately sent this:

Please correct "cars" to "cards" before forwarding my response. If anyone is giving away cars I want to be first in line; even if that means shoving some orphans out of the way.

Then I thought 'Oh shit, she might forward that too!' So I sent this:

Please don't forward that last message about shoving orphans. I mean, I definitely would shove them to get a new car; I just don't want a lot of people knowing that. I would like to keep it as a surprise tactic if cars were ever being given away and orphans were present. Thank you.

Posted by Laura at 04:54 PM | Permalink | Comments (9) | TrackBacks (0)

That little plaque hangs by my desk here at home. It's a nice sentiment, but I don't pay attention to it much because most days the only thing that would make me happy is to stab someone. And stabbing is illegal. And illegal is bad. So I have to settle for making weekly stab lists.

1. I still want to stab the lawn guy who didn't show up. I hold grudges. Yes I do. And I haven't had time to find yet another yard guy. Making stab lists takes time, people, and my yard is starting to look like an abandoned lot.

2. My insurance agent. He sent me a letter that said I was old and he needed to discuss more coverage because I was closer to death than most people. Well, it didn't exactly say that, but that's how I took it. Bite me, Mr. Insurance Agent. Bite my old underinsured ass.

3. The girl at Subway who was fixing my sandwich and rolled her eyes when I said "No banana peppers please" as she was placing banana peppers on my sandwich AFTER I said "No banana peppers" the first time.

4. My dog who I just caught today trying to destroy his new bed AGAIN. He's mentally ill. Maybe he just needs his own stab list. It would look like this, but probably with more typos because he doesn't have thumbs and he's uneducated:
 1. Her (meaning me)
 2. Her (meaning me again)
 3. The cats
 4. Her (me again)

5. CBS schedulers that changed The Big Bang Theory's time slot to 9:30. I'm old, people, just ask my insurance agent. I get up early. I need my rest.

6. People who want to instruct others on how to blog. What. The. Fuck. Why would anyone take their time to comment disapproval on someone's blog? I don't get it. If I click on something I don't like, I leave. Common sense, no? I don't have time to moderate other people's blogs on the web. My time is precious to me. There are stab lists to make.

Posted by Laura at 06:30 PM | Permalink | Comments (15) | TrackBacks (0)

I was having so much fun over at Two Nervous Dogs that I almost forgot to blog. Oh, I'm sorry; you can't see it can you? Well, that's because she's locked out everyone who played the "I'm too busy to blog or comment on blogs on the weekends" game. That's right. She's locked down today's and tomorrow's entries. Password protected, baby! Too bad ya'll can't see those fantastic blogs. They're epic. And I think Aerosmith is coming over later to perform. Too bad you'll miss it. Hope you had a great weekend being all busy and shit.

J called me today to tell me I gave him rabies. Apparently he's not feeling well and is entirely too quick in blaming me. I asked him if he was angry and he said no. I know he can swim and isn't afraid of water so I told him he didn't have rabies, it was probably typhoid. I think he was just trying to gain sympathy because he was locked out of Dogette's blog. It didn't work.

I called the firing range I belong to to see if I could target practice with my taser. Joe, the guy that runs it was all "You want to fire a taser at a paper target?" I said, "No Joe, I need a human target." He kind of laughed and jokingly suggested I walk down by the bus station with a $10.00 bill hanging out of my pocket. Then he hung up on me.

So tomorrow I have to stop by the bank in the morning.

Posted by Laura at 06:16 PM | Permalink | Comments (8) | TrackBacks (0)

Yes, two entries in one day, and a Sunday at that. I'm such a giver. Speaking of giving, my educational series of facts continues. It will continue until I run out of old pictures, facts or just get bored with it. Whichever comes first.

It's been a regular day. Yes, regular but I still had time to go read blogs and comment. I don't hide behind the false pretense of having an active life where I don't touch the interwebs because I'm too busy with the real world-going to church, playing badminton at the family cookout, whatever you pretend to do. No. I'm real and I surf the internet EVERY DAY. That includes WEEKENDS.

My dog had a psychotic episode today and tore up his bed. I know. What the fuck? I yelled at him like that Dog Whisperer dude says not to and I told him he wasn't going to get another bed. That would show him. Then I saw him curled up on a little piece of the stuffing that I had been too lazy to pick up. So the little fucker worked me like a piece of clay and I went and got him a new bed and collar. And because I know how much you guys like my dog photos here he is with his new collar.

That's the face he gave me when I caught him ripping his bed to shreds by the way. I think he was mad because he had caught one of the cats sleeping in it the other day and he figured it was contaminated or just wanted it destroyed so they couldn't enjoy it. He's like Damien Thorn and Nellie Olsen rolled into one. He's that evil and petty. I don't know where he gets it.

P.S. Dogette at Two Nervous Dogs is about to close the door on you weekend posers. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Posted by Laura at 04:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (11) | TrackBacks (0)

I always keep money in my iTunes account just in case I must have the new Miley Cyrus song or the latest iFart application. EVERY TIME I go to purchase something my balance is smaller than I think it should be. This is pissing me off so now I am keeping a tally on paper because if I try to keep it in my notes on my iPhone I know Steve Jobs will just make adjustments to hide his embezzlement. Rich people are sneaky that way.

I got an actual full night's sleep last night so I think my rabies has gone into remission again. I am keeping my fingers crossed. I watched the movie "Sunshine Ceaning" yesterday. It's about two sisters who start a business cleaning up crime scenes. It was pretty good for a non-horror and I recommend it. I also pre-ordered "Drag Me to Hell" based solely on all the reviews I have read about it. I pre-ordered it on iTunes. I am writing this down, Steve, so leave my account the fuck alone. I'm sure your freezer is full of third world livers anyway, so you don't really need my chump change do you?

P.S. Jesus H. Christ. I hope Steve doesn't google himself. If I come up missing, please alert the authorities to this entry. I am sure one day this blog will either get me killed or save me. I'm so confused. Hold me. No, don't.

P.S.S. The above photo is a first in a series I am making to educate you people. I not only want to entertain you, I want to make you smarter.

Posted by Laura at 08:22 AM | Permalink | Comments (11) | TrackBacks (0)

So I've been having insomnia lately and this morning after waking up at three a.m. I went into the living room to lay on the couch and watch some television, well infomercials really. So I fell back asleep, but I didn't know I was asleep and I dreamt/thought my dog ate my iPhone. When I say ate, I mean gnawled it into pieces. Anyway, I woke with a start and jumped to my feet to go scream at my dog and cry. I looked on the floor and didn't see any pieces of my beloved phone and my dog was still on the couch looking at me as if to say "What the hell is up with you?". That's when I knew it must have been a dream. I still had to go find my phone to make myself KNOW that it was okay though. When I found it in the bedroom, where I placed it last night to charge, I gave it a hug and made a promise that I would take better care of it in the future and buy it that new Paul Frank case that I want. Because having that dream was God's way of telling me to get it. And you should always listen to God.

Posted by Laura at 02:56 PM | Permalink | Comments (6) | TrackBacks (0)

Just to give you a heads up, there's going to be blogging this weekend. Again the rules are being broken and if you've decided to be one of the cool people and blog too, let me know so I can come read your stuff. Cool people need to support other cool people. That's like in the bible I think.

I've had insomnia all week and it really sucks. I get it every once in a while. I think it's related to my rabies. So who knows, there may be multiple postings, there may not. I don't want to hear any complaints either way.

Oh, I've discovered this game online and it's really fun. It's called Plants vs. Zombies. There's a free version there. Seriously, I'm not a gamer but I like these simple cartoonish ones because I have the eye/hand coordination of a stroke victim. And don't blame me and start complaining if you lose your job and have to move into your parent's basement because you suddenly get addicted to online games either.

Posted by Laura at 08:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (12) | TrackBacks (0)

Yesterday I was minding my own business, checking my email, when I saw that I had an email from J. This is what he sent me:

It's a one day workshop for grammar and proofreading. At the bottom he asked me if I wanted to go and that he'd pay for it. Yeah. Let that soak in a minute.

I know my grammar gets kind of iffy at times, and I know I cuss a little (okay a lot), and I know I typo all over the place, and sometimes I even correct a post after I post it, and that's supposed to be a big no-no but like Dogette told me- "fuck the blogging rules" and I agree, and damn, this is harsh so I called him 'cause I was kinda mad and asked Mr. MBA what the fuck was up with this and he was all "well I thought you'd want to go" all innocent and shit and I was all "so you're telling me I need it" all defensive and shit and he's all "no I just thought you'd like it" still playing all innocent and shit and I'm all "no, I'd like a trip to L.A. or a new car, this is like going to school" all smartass and shit and he's all "oh, okay, well will you go if I go with you?" at which point I hung up on him.

Posted by Laura at 03:37 PM | Permalink | Comments (11) | TrackBacks (0)

Because a lady can never have too many weapons, and INSANITY came and introduced itself to me recently, J got me this:

Seriously I think he got me this because I was telling him what I would do to INSANITY if it came down to it, and he thought this would be way less messy and he knew I always wanted one. Hey, some girls like jewelry, I like weapons.

I was giddy when I opened it and immediately tore into the package, activated it, tested the laser aim and armed it like a pro. J suggested we sit and watch the operating/safety video that came with it. Always the adult that J. So I sat there while some chic from some cop show I didn't recognize talked about the arming and safety of the device. Blah, blah, check, okay. Then she demonstrated using it while being attacked. She was walking to a car when some dude in a weird, heavily padded suit came out and went towards her. The lady pulled out the taser and yelled "Stop! I have a taser!" The man kept going towards her and she fired. She also demonstrated what to do if more than one attacked. "Stop! I have a taser!" She popped the first guy. He dropped and then she used the device as a stun gun on the others. I turned to J and told him she was doing it wrong. He asked "How's that?" and I said "You don't say 'Stop! I have a taser!' you say 'Say hello to my little friend'."

And you say it just like that.

Posted by Laura at 03:56 PM | Permalink | Comments (11) | TrackBacks (0)

I was complaining to J the other day about how hard it is sometimes to come up with a blog entry. When you aren't a mommy blogger (Oh God, can you even imagine?) or do a journal type blog, it's sometimes difficult to come up with anything of interest. I work ten to twelve hours a day and because I will never blog about my job, that doesn't leave a lot of time to do anything of interest to write about. So most of the time I just blog my crazy. When I look back on my archives I am always amazed at just how much crazy I have to share. But there are still days when the crazy gets buried under schedules and errands and I just want to stop and never blog again. This afternoon was one of those times. I just wanted to take out insurance on this blog and torch it; a little cyber arson. Then I thought, "Well, that's just crazy." Ta-da! Another entry born.

Posted by Laura at 06:29 PM | Permalink | Comments (16) | TrackBacks (0)

I am a little late with this list, but better late than never I suppose. I know you all were sitting around thinking "I wonder who Laura wanted to stab last week." Well, wait no longer.

1. Kanye West. Yeah, I know I was photoshopping him in everywhere last week, and don't think I didn't think about stabbing myself for that. This is what people should have been talking about relating to the VMA's, not Kanye.

2. The yard guy I hired who DID NOT show up after I fired my first yard guy. I curse you yardman. I hope crabgrass grows out your ass. And I want to stab you.

3. People I don't know very well that touch me when they talk. Do not touch me. I swear to God, it's all I can do not to jerk away from you and tell you I will stab you if you try it again.

4. The pizza delivery man who told me he had an open marriage. What. The. Fuck.

5. My cat for sitting on my face trying to kill me TWICE this past weekend.

Yes, I know my list is shorter this time. Please don't complain, because there's always room at the bottom for complainers. And I stab complainers twice. Hard. I really think I'm starting to mellow out, don't you?

Also, in between feeling all stabby I laughed at this and I think you should too:

Office Masturbation - Celebrity bloopers here

Posted by Laura at 04:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (11) | TrackBacks (0)

With the economy being the way it is, I have decided that the animals need to start pulling their weight around here. Today I took some shots of my dog Jack for his portfolio. Since there's more work in Hollywood for females, especially blondes, I had him getting in touch with his feminine side.

He wasn't very happy about it at first.

I'm trying to get him an audition as a stripper/prostitute on the popular police drama CSI: Miami.

Well actually it's for "Dead Hooker Number 3."

I think he nailed it.

Posted by Laura at 01:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (18) | TrackBacks (0)

My cat Traxler wakes me up if I attempt to sleep past FIVE O'CLOCK. Wait. I don't mean he purposely wakes me up like some cats do- meowing and purring, wanting to be fed or to get attention. No. My cat attempts to murder me. Apparently he can control his homicidal urges pretty well up until five o'clock A.M. At that point, he has some kind of psychotic episode and views me as an easy target. He's declawed so he doesn't have those as weapons. He doesn't have opposable thumbs so he can't hold a knife or a gun or piano wire. No, this murderous bastard sits on my face. That's right. I wake up struggling for air. Mouth full of cat fur. And do you want to know the worst thing? The worst is that his puckered cat rectum has touched my face. So not only is he a homicidal maniac hell bent on suffocating me, he is also into humiliation. Sick fucker.

Sometimes he leaves notes on the nightstand.

Posted by Laura at 06:42 AM | Permalink | Comments (5) | TrackBacks (0)

I think the rabies went into my eye. My eye hurts. How weird is that? I googled it and the pics were so fucking gross of eye diseases that I closed it down and am just going with the rabies thingy again.

Oh, and because people seemed to like the pissed off sock monkey that I make, I have decided that I will have another Zombie Survival Giveaway and one of the pissy monkeys will be part of the giveaway. I'm thinking maybe Day of the Dead (November 2) will be the giveaway date unless I do it sooner. It depends how my rabies progresses I suppose.

And I know no one is reading this because you're all out having fun, laughing and drinking wine with your pinkies in the air pretending your date is interesting, but I want some book recommendations. I want to get an audio book because not only do I have just one good eye due to ocular rabies (I made that up-I should be in charge of naming diseases) but I'm too lazy anymore to even turn pages. So if ya'll know any GOOD books, let me know. I like any good story-just no fucking romance. God. I HATE romance stories. So, if you recommend a romance novel I will fucking hunt you down and stab you. I hate biographies too. No one is that interesting to me to warrant a full book. If you recommend a biography I will hunt you down and punch you in the throat. I also dislike mysteries. Non-fiction is kind of boring too. If you recommend a mystery or a non-fiction I won't hunt you down, but you will be dead to me. So let's just say I like horror okay. Just horror. Good horror.

Also, there will be blogging this weekend. Dogette and I have started a campaign to end this "I don't blog on weekends because I have a life and I am busy being a fulfilled human being." bullshit. People, you are not fooling anyone.

So, to wrap it up, I have rabies in my eye, there will be another giveaway with a monkey involved probably on a Mexican holiday because I'm worldly like that, and I need a scary book to listen to because turning pages takes too much energy, and you people need to blog on weekends like the cool people do.

Posted by Laura at 06:46 PM | Permalink | Comments (13) | TrackBacks (0)

Posted by Laura at 06:54 PM | Permalink | Comments (11) | TrackBacks (0)

J: "Do you want to go to the mountains this weekend?"

Me: "Sounds good, but I will have to see how my rabies is doing. It came out of remission last weekend."

J: "Laura, please. What makes you say that you have rabies all the time?"

Me: "I have major symptoms. I get all ragey mad and I'm afraid of water. You know I can't swim."

J: -

Me: "Hello?"

J: "So, do you want to go to the mountains?"

P.S. Yes, it's going to be Kanye Interruptus here for a few days because photoshopping these pictures makes me laugh. And me laughing is important. It helps ease the pain of the rabies.

Posted by Laura at 04:56 PM | Permalink | Comments (9) | TrackBacks (0)

Dammit Kanye! You jackass!

Posted by Laura at 06:36 PM | Permalink | Comments (7) | TrackBacks (0)

That's a video of Kanye West with his maze hairdo on Jay Leno being all articulate and apologizing and fake crying. As the entire free world knows, Kayne West interrupted Taylor Swift's acceptance speech at the VMA's this past weekend. The President even called him a jackass. And Kanye is a jackass. I just don't think what he did at the VMA makes him one. What happened at the VMA was planned. A publicity stunt. I'm certain of it. It worked too. Look at the media attention it's getting. People are still pissed off. I am too. But not about Kanye. I'm pissed off at Lady Gaga.

I was wearing the same outfit that night. Goddammit I hate when that happens.

Posted by Laura at 04:57 PM | Permalink | Comments (8) | TrackBacks (0)

J had to work Sunday. He's one of those lucky people who's self-employed and works from home. And since I felt like my rabies was coming out of remission, I stayed home. Sometime mid-afternoon he called me and I heard this loud crying that sounded like a baby (or beh-bey as Dogette calls them, and I'm going to steal it). I'm like, "Dude. What the hell is that noise?" because instantly I thought 'Oh hell to the no. He better not have gotten some whore pregnant and she dropped off the baby saying "Here. I don't want it anymore. It's yours." smacking her gum and flicking her acrylic whore nails.' I ain't playing Brad Pitt to his baby-collecting Angelina Jolie ass. (FYI: All whores smack gum and have acrylic whore nails. Fact.)

He told me that it was a pitiful cat that came up to him while he was BBQing. I'm like, "Umm sure okay. Well call child protection services and have them pick it up." He said, "No it's a cat that looks really starved and has a bad leg. It must have smelled my burger cooking." Then I heard it again and this time it did sound like a cat. He didn't know what to do. He didn't want another cat. He already has three outside cats. I said, "Well it's hungry. You have to feed it. Then take it to the vet on Monday." He was all, "When you thought it was a baby you wanted me to call child protection services to pick it up. Now that you know it's an animal you want me to take care of it?" I said, "Yeah. Of course."

So he fed it and took it the vet this morning and hundreds of dollars later he now has a new cat. So now if we were to combine our cats we would have SEVEN! SEVEN fucking cats. And neither of us particularly likes cats! Better than one beh-bey though.

Posted by Laura at 04:08 PM | Permalink | Comments (8) | TrackBacks (0)

I forgot where it was, but a few weeks ago I had put my keys down and someone picked them up and said "Do these belong to your daughter?" I was like, "What the fuck?" and gave them my "Are you fucking nuts" look. Then they gave me their "Are you fucking retarded" look. First off, I am much too "young" and "virile" to have a child that could have keys (SHUT.THE.FUCK.UP.) and secondly, ewwww, a child and thirdly, well, what the fuck, no I'm not "retarded." There's nothing "young and stupid" or "retarded" about my keys.

Posted by Laura at 05:17 PM | Permalink | Comments (8) | TrackBacks (0)

Crazy Betty has cut down all her shrubs. The same shrubs she likes to hang out in wearing her polyester sateen leopard print lingerie and pink hair rollers. I'm thinking she wants a better aim view of me. But maybe that's just my paranoia at work. She probably just wants to showcase her evening wear collection to the entire neighborhood instead of a limited few.

This Crazy Ass Neighbor Watch was sponsored by:

Protecting the crazy ass paranoid from reality for centuries.

Posted by Laura at 04:19 PM | Permalink | Comments (12) | TrackBacks (0)

Me: "Look at the bear hand puppet I got to take pictures of for the Bear Hands, Inc. Rwwwrr!" 

Me: (Starts to choke him wearing the bear puppet on my hand) "Rwwwrr!"

J: "Laura, what are you doing?"

Me: "Choking you with my bear hand. Rwwwrr!"

J: "You don't even try to be normal around me anymore. Do you?"

Me: (Starts moving my wrist so it appears the bear is humping his face.) "Rwwwrr. Mmmmm. Ahhh. Mmmmm."

J: "What the hell are you doing now?"

Me: "He's humping your head. Rwwwrr. Mmmm. Who's your daddy? Ahhhh. Ohh baby. Rrrwwwrr."

J: "And that's not normal bear behavior."

Me: "His name is Chester the Molester."

J: "Oh. Well, that explains it. And you can stop humping my head with that puppet anytime now."

Me: "He's not done yet. Rwwwrrr. RWWWWRRR! OHH! AHHHHHHH!! There. Now he wants to cuddle."

J: "Somehow I think I'll be reading this on your blog soon."

Posted by Laura at 04:39 PM | Permalink | Comments (8) | TrackBacks (0)

I've recently started going to a grocery store on the other side of town. They have better produce and their cashiers actually smile and make eye contact which is totally the opposite of the cashiers on my side of town who are all bitchy and bitter. This store also hires grown "mentally challenged" men as baggers. They do an exceptional job and I am always impressed that they bag my bread separately from my 10 pound box of kitty litter, which is something that never happened at my old grocery store with so-called "normal" baggers.

So, I took my weekly groceries (which consist mostly of Fruity Pebbles, peanut M&Ms and beer) up to the register and did something I almost never do; I got cash back from my debit card. The cashier handed me my receipt and cash, looked me in the eyes, smiled, and said "Have a nice day!" I stuttered back something like "Bye! Uh, you too! Bye!" just a little too loudly. I still can't get used to common courtesy, so my response and timing are always way off.

By the time I turned to my cart. The bag "man" had finished and was at the rear of the cart, ready to take it to my car. I told him I could get it and he stepped away. I started to hand him two folded dollars and said "Here you go", feeling all smug and happy with myself. That's when all hell broke loose. He shrieked and started yelling "NO! NO! NO! NO!" He did a little circle, stomping his feet. I stood there with my mouth open. Everyone had stopped what they were doing and were staring at us. For a split second I thought he was going to start screaming something about "stranger danger!" and point at me saying I touched him "down there." Just as I decided that I was going to abandon my Fruity Pebbles and run like an innocent daycare worker, the man ran up to the customer service counter and pointed at a sign that read "Please Do Not Tip the Baggers." Oh. I looked around and everyone was staring at me like I had touched his peen. Shit. I shrugged all apologetic like, smiled weakly and said "I didn't know. Sorry." Then I got the hell out of there. Quick.

I will miss being seen as a human being in a grocery store. Who needs square slices of bread anyway?

*I am almost at nine human followers on Twitter. Nine, people. This does not include celebs that basically ignore me. Sometimes I cry when I open my Twitter app. True story.

Posted by Laura at 09:47 AM | Permalink | Comments (10) | TrackBacks (0)

According to my calendar, the week ends on Saturday. So I'm going to do a photo recap of some of the things that I learned this week.

• That you don't have to even look for crazy. It will find you.
  
  
  
  
  
• That your bird will mock you.
  
  
  
  
  
• That even though encountering TWO grasshoppers in your car at TWO different times doesn't necessarily constitute being a sign of the end of times, I think finding a big ugly-ass spider in your shower does.
  
  
  
  
  
  The most troubling thing is that I ran to go get the camera naked. Now THAT image in your head is more than likely the actual apocalyptic sign.
  
  
• That I will buy anything for a dollar if my dog can wear it and I can torture him with taking pictures.
  
  
  
  
  
• Not to freak out when you think they just handed you your severance package at work.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sometimes it's just your bonus.

Posted by Laura at 09:52 AM | Permalink | Comments (9) | TrackBacks (0)

Don't you just hate it when people say to you, "I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?" I can't fucking stand to make a choice like that. So I am going to make the decision for you.

Good News

I didn't wreck my car this morning.
I used "By the Power of Grayskull" once today in a business conversation.
I have four more human followers on Twitter.
I found this great blog called "Two Nervous Dogs"and I think you all should go read it.
There is such a thing as a free lunch.
I didn't punch or stab anyone today.

Bad News

A grasshopper jumped on my face this morning while I was driving! What the hell?
"By the Power of Grayskull" has been replaced temporarily by "The Blood of Jesus."
A 10 year old is following me on Twitter, probably because of my potty mouth.
I can't stay home from work and read the archives of the "Two Nervous Dogs" blog.
I got acid reflux from lunch.
I didn't punch or stab anyone today.

*The title of this entry has nothing to do with anything. I was just wondering.
**The photo has nothing to do with the title of this entry or with anything in the entry. I just like it.

Posted by Laura at 06:49 PM | Permalink | Comments (10) | TrackBacks (0)

Me: "I have another dermatologist appointment Friday."

J: "Oh God, what is wrong now?"

Me: "First off, don't 'Oh God' me. I am going back for a follow-up up of that armpit rash."

J: "I thought it was all gone."

Me: "It is but I have a feeling it might come back."

J: "So, you're cured, but have an apprehension that it will come back?"

Me: "Well, yeah."

J: "Who's the crazy woman in your neighborhood again?"

Me: "By the blood of Jesus, don't be all in my medical business!"

J: "Okay, you're scaring me now."

Me: "Then I must be doing it right."

Posted by Laura at 07:13 PM | Permalink | Comments (7) | TrackBacks (0)

I found this note stuck in my front door Saturday. Seriously. This is what it says:

neighbor

Is there any particaler reason that you are ?(illegible) my business, other than to be noisy. You will never see a man come out of my house. because I'm not married to any so I'm not keeping with any if someone is breaking in my house that's when you mind my business. Who you're trying to watch me for. the blood of Jesus is against them.
mind your own business
     Myors

 

I know, right? I'm like a crazy magnet. It's perplexing. I have never really met this woman. Sure there's been tell-tale signs that she's insane; overgrown yard, standing outside in her shrubs in a leopard print nightie, big pink rollers in her hair. But hey, who hasn't done that? (Right, Duane?)

Anyway, I thought I'd write her back. Crazy, meet Crazy.

Dear Myors (if that's REALLY your name. I don't like it, so I will call you Betty) Dear Betty,
It is nice to meet you, Betty. Well, not actually meet you, but to hear from you. You have been here for what? Two years? I guess better late than never. Anyway, to address your note, I would like to say that my sources (my dog) have told me that it is in fact YOU watching MY business. I have included a pic to prove this.

See. I believe him. He's never lied to me, except once when he stole my car and and that time he tried to sell the cat on Ebay. Okay, twice.

You can mind my business, Betty. I like the attention. As far as thinking I am noisy. My pets and I have dance-offs on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays. I will try to keep the music down, though it is hard to get down to Barry Manilow without a little volume. Know what I mean? It is kind of difficult drowning out those voices. I'm sure you know what I mean about voices, Betty. What's that? You meant nosey? Oh then, nevermind.

I see that you are a single lady also and are concerned about someone spotting men leaving your house. Might I suggest rolling them in a rug first? Those large lawn garbage bags also work. I just find rugs more absorbent and less apt to rip, personally. And I am all for your idea of starting a neighborhood watch program. Fantastic idea! How about we discuss it over tea? I have tea with my pets every Wednesday night. Please feel free to join us, Betty, but bring your own feather boa and tin foil hat.

By the Power of Grayskull,
 neighbor 

P.S. I made you a bear as a late "Welcome to the Neighborhood" gift. You can pick it up at tea on Wednesday.

Posted by Laura at 04:07 PM | Permalink | Comments (15) | TrackBacks (0)

Yeah, I know. I told you I'd be busy this summer. So here's another list because I sit around listing things in my head. Is that normal? I hope not. I don't like normal much.

10 Things I Find Hard To Believe

• That anyone cares about any of the Kardashians. I mean, they're famous not because of the father but because the oldest daughter did a sex tape, had booty sex and then let the dude piss on her. Now she's a fashion icon/role model? What the hell?
• The price of groceries. More specifically, that I say things like "I used to be able to get a week's worth of groceries for blah blah bah now I pay blah blah blah!" I sound just like old people did when I was a kid. Uggh. I'm old. I used to walk to school in the snow too.
• That I still don't own a killer robot.
• That people with the IQ of a bag of rocks make millions of dollars playing sports. Meanwhile paramedics, firefighters, police make almost minimum wage.
• That I haven't actually stabbed or punched anyone in the throat yet. Seriously. Every day I want to. Every. Day.
• That Britney Spears went all psycho and showed her true crazy and now she's taken as a serious artist making millions again. I'm just as crazy and can sing just as well (which means not so much). Where's my money?
• That I'm not a life coach. I can tell you how to live your life better than anyone.
• That George Clooney hasn't contacted me. I mean, I've been trolling for him on this site for over two years and still no word. Don't worry I won't give up. Call me, George Clooney.
• That I've been blogging for over two years.
• That anyone reads my blog. Thank you for satisfying my attention whoreness. I would offer you a glass of wine, but I drank it all.

Posted by Laura at 03:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (9) | TrackBacks (0)