Fact: Farting is a natural occurrence.
Opinion: It’s acceptable, funny even to fart while in the company of SOME friends and family.
Fact: It’s never acceptable to fart at the workplace – especially during meetings.
So
I’m at the office a few days ago overhearing a conversation taking place in the office next to mine. The woman is talking to the man, who is standing in her doorway.
Small talk.
Silence.
Huge loud fart. I mean the kind of fart that’s normally followed by a regularly scheduled dump in the privacy of ones’ home – with the newspaper in hand even… with several seconds of air freshener to follow. It was the man – he let one rip.
Silence.
He then excused himself to the restroom.
The fart could be heard by the woman who sits in the office on the other side of me – huge f*cking fart.
He returned and chatted with us as if nothing happened. By then we all exchanged giggles about how everyone heard him let one rip.
...this takes forgetting your pill some place else - totally.
Most have experienced awful hangovers coupled with sketchy memories of the drunken night before.
I, myself was hung over in my neighborhood drug store a few days ago and noticed pills to lessen the symptoms of hangover if taken with water – while out drinking.
Huh?
I almost purchased a pack but wondered if they were really effective. I then thought it was kind of screwed up that an over the counter is available that may lead some to drink more than their known limit simply because they know they will feel okay the morning after.
*why didn’t I think of this?*
I mean, screw the pill to avoid drunkenness – get twisted, go against everything you stand for when sober, and get up and make it to work on time the next day. All that matters is that you pull yourself together the next day – right?
Sounds familiar.
I left the meds there and now I wonder… does this sh*t really work?
What’s familiar?
Maybe it’s not such a bad idea after all. It’s sort of like birth control, and I guess if you have nothing against birth control, you should be fine with hangover control as well – right? I mean everyone wants to have sex but most don’t want to get pregnant as a result. Why not indulge in drinking and know that you won’t have a wicked headache, partial memory loss, issue with sunlight, a list of people to whom you must aplogize, queasy tummy, the runs, the false promise to self to never drink in excess again, and cotton mouth the day after?
Okay. Well I am certain the pills don't help with partial memory loss, false promises to never drink in excess again, and the need to apologize to a list of people.
Anyway.
After writing about it – maybe it does not settle so well with me after all. I think I will stick to my one glass of water per every two drinks method. Counting with my fingers which become blurred after my third Ketel -- 1,2 vodka 1 water 3,4 vodka 2 water 5,4 vodka 3,3 vodka 1 water (a lady never "fesses up to" more than 3 drinks in the end)… or a hair of the dog that bit me in a form of a bloody mary the morning after.
…while others drink hard all night with protection – their hangover control.
Yeah you. You selfish b*tch. F*ck you and the ragged arsed horse you rode in on.
And fuck the horse that gave birth to the horse you rode in on.
F*ck your situation. It’s not as important as you think. As a matter of fact it’s the least important thing ever and you are not smart enough to realize it.
Don't complain to me.
Don't complain to me.
I don't care.
..or are you aware?
Hmmm… if so, you are contained
You are afraid
You are weak
You are accustomed to afraid and weak people
You don’t like yourself and you take it out on others
You are not happy and you parade around as if you are instead of doing things to change your situation
You are happy in the little sheltered world you have created surrounded by needy people – people who appear to be less than you are.
You are afraid of success.
You want to be exactly where you are.
I don't care and don't want to hear your sh*t.
I won't listen anymore
I have no more time and energy for you and your sh*t.
F*ck you.
For the first time in many years, I overcooked the meat. Maybe it was because I prepared it away from home and the best high heat pan I was able to find was a Caphalon wok. I am not accustomed to cooking in a wok. Maybe it was the great wine I consumed several glasses of prior to departing home. I don’t think this is the case. I think it was the wok holding heat after I turned off the flame even.
My mustard crust also didn’t stay put. I normally create a nice crust bursting with flavor – beautifully in place with herbs all about.
THIS IS WHAT THE DISH IS ALL ABOUT!!!!
*wiping tears*
The info… I baked a French loaf and served it with olive oil and herbs (cracked black pepper, thyme, and rosemary) for dipping; pan seared lamb chops with a mustard , herb (rosemary and thyme), and secret dry spice crust (I’ll share one dry rub ingredient – lavender - YUM); orzo with herbs and spinach (a touch of fresh cilantro and plenty of fresh basil), olive oil and lemon zest; and a fresh baked lemon mouse cake from my neighborhood Fresh Fields (now know as Whole Foods), and a few good bottles of Cotes du Rhone wines.
The lamb was dry and the crust didn’t stay put.
Of course this was my very first time preparing a meal for this friend.
…go figure. My first dry meat experience in many years.
The bread, pasta, wine, and cake were great.
I just can’t believe the lamb was dry.
I don’t think I will prepare that cut of lamb in the near future, and I don’t EVER want to see a f*cking wok again.
I'm using my Corporate discount to do takeout dinner all this week from Dean & Deluca.
This is far more traumatizing than leaving the cake out in the rain.
What a waste.
Some should understand their views matter to know one.
They are unimportant. Illogical. Ignorant even.
Some should just sit there and look pretty if possible. Don’t talk. Just listen.
I’ve met some really ignorant people in my life but over the past few days, I’ve run into some who are ignorant to the tenth degree. Maybe it was the area or something in the water.
I spent time at the hospital and running errands with a family member to pick up hard to find prescriptions. A journey starting at 2:00 p.m. through DC and Maryland to 7 pharmacies and 2 hospitals total before we were able to get all that she needed at 11:58 p.m. I will never go to the places I visited again without flooring the gas pedal – possibly running over a few of the people who live and work there.
I did however manage to meet an interesting homeless man in the GW Emergency Room. He reeked of cigarettes because he had several of them, apparently, removed from the ashtray outside, in his pockets. He was waiting for medical attention as many others were. He had a long and interesting conversation with himself and he and he both conversed intelligently.
Go figure.
He offered me a pack of cheese crackers and later mini spring water (his backpack was filled with all sorts of snacks) and I declined.
But, other than the psychotic...
Goofuckinggobs of dumb arsed people. Totally unaware of their lack of knowledge, and, some in positions to mislead others.
They should be spayed and neutered so that they won’t bring forth more of their kind.
Total wastes of sperm. They should all die. It should be legal to put them out of their misery and prevent them from tainting others.
*scratching my head*
*sigh*
I am pissed that I had to share space and some energy with these people. I'm tired and feel dirty. I might have a rash even.
The earth swarms with people who are not worth talking to
Voltaire
I’ve been told I am worth exactly $2,702,470.00, but I am sure I can negotiate for much much much more.
I hope to find someone who can "afford" me.
How much are YOU worth? Check it out.
Enjoy!
We may live without poetry, music and art
We may live without conscience
And live without heart
We may live without friends
We may live without books
But civilized man cannot live without cooks
--Owen Meredith, 'Lucile’
Everyone knows someone who has tons of book smarts and is totally lacking in common sense; people skills; and, have no f*cking clue they have lack common sense and people skills.
These dumb arsed smart people need your help.
It’s up to you to put them on the right track and make them aware that most people think different from they. Explain some of the basics. Maybe they will better understand how they should think; or, at the very least, make them aware of how screwed they are if you don’t want to explain how to appear “normal”.
It’s your duty to tell them they are not so f*cking smart after all.
Finally. Help is on the way for dumb smart people.
People who start sh*t and get upset when you strike back properly are a pain in the arse. They have the nerve to expect sympathy when they actually owe an apology to you instead for initiating conflict and using your valuable energies to set their arses straight.
When a can of worms is opened, no one can place limitations on what size worms may crawl out.
During conflict there are no rules as to how the other person should or should not respond.
Should one decide to throw out a verbal hand pat, or pinch even, and get a full fledged verbal bitch slap or black eye in return, there should be no hatred for the person who did the slapping or punching. Instead one should be angry with Self for starting the sh*t – and being weak.
When you pull out your gun, you better use it – and be fully aware of the size of your opponent’s gun as well.
I, for one don’t care for conflict, but there is no way in hell I won’t stand up and quickly put someone in their place, should they be worthy enough for me to share a small bit of my energy.
Don’t get upset if you started the fight and were not able to finish it.
Just face it.
My gun is, and, will always be - bigger than yours.
I know I am late, but it’s my blog and I’ll post old sh*t if I want to. Check out the ten worst album covers ever at http://porktornado.diaryland.com/albumcover.html. Even funnier than the covers (I received them some time ago) is Pork Tornado’s captions - belittlement at its finest. I almost peed my pants.
Of f*cking surpassing excellence!!
Enjoy!
Immanuel Kant was a real puissant who was very rarely stable.
Heidegger, Heidegger was a boozy beggar who could think you under the table.
David Hume could out consume Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel,
And Wittgenstein was a beery swine who was just as sloshed as Schlegel.
There's nothing Nietzsche couldn't teach ya 'bout the raisin' of the wrist.
Socrates himself was permanently pissed.
John Stuart Mill, of his own free will, after half a pint of shandy was particularly ill.
Plato, they say, could stick it away, 'alf a crate of whiskey every day!
Aristotle, Aristotle was a bugger for the bottle, and Hobbes was fond of his Dram.
And Rene Descartes was a drunken fart: "I drink, therefore I am."
Yes, Socrates himself is particularly missed;
A lovely little thinker, but a bugger when he's pissed.
-- Monty Python
Interesting rants about how the Hungry Man breakfast meal is a killer.
Literally.
http://www.x-entertainment.com/articles/0744/
Old, but its my blog and I will post old sh*t if I want to.
Enjoy.
F*cking hilarious.
I watch a movie while cooking on the first floor – running back and forth, another on the second floor while chatting with my daughter and talking with her about her day, and another once I reach my bedroom on floor three. I pop in a movie when I awaken too early for my work day. I watch two movies while lying in the bed most weekend mornings. I even half watch movies while dressing to go out for dinner or whatever.
I leave the DVD rental site open on my desktop all day as if it is my Outlook.
I smile when I see the red and white envelope when I arrive at my home – and open the envelopes before walking the dog.
My American Staffordshire Terrier hates them and we have to grab them before she does her jealous rip-em-up routine.
*wondering is she hates the movies of just knows the cute mail guy, whom she hates, has touched them*
This is my list of movies viewed since late December 2004. The “F” marks movies I consider worth watching more than once. If I showed my entire queue, even the most well endowed movie whore might feel a bit envious. Here is what I care to share…
13 Going on 30, 2004
A Cinderella Story, 2004
About a Boy, 2002
Amy's O, 2002 (F)
Bend It Like Beckham, 2002
Big Fat Liar, 2002
Bratz: The Video: Starrin' & Stylin', 2004
Bread and Roses, 2000
Bread and Tulips, 2000
Brother Bear (Theatrical Widescreen Version), 2003
Catfish in Black Bean Sauce, 2000 (F)
Chappelle's Show: Season 1: Disc 1, 2003
Citizen Ruth, 1996
Coffee and Cigarettes, 2003
Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen, 2004
Connie and Carla, 2004 (F)
Danny Deckchair, 2003 (F)
Elf, 2003
Ella Enchanted, 2004 (F)
Envy, 2004
Fat Albert's Greatest Hits: The Ultimate Collection: Disc 2, 1972 (F)
Four Weddings and a Funeral, 1994
Frida, 2002 (F)
Girl with a Pearl Earring, 2003 (F)
Go, 1999 (F)
Godsend, 2004
Igby Goes Down (2002) (F)
Jakob the Liar, 1999 (F)
Just a Little Harmless Sex, 1999 (F)
Kissing Jessica Stein, 2002 (F)
Kundun, 1997 (F)
Laurel Canyon, 2003 (F)
Laws of Attraction, 2004 (F)
Maid in Manhattan, 2002
Mona Lisa Smile, 2003 (F)
New York Minute, 2004
Notorious C.H.O., 2002
One Hour Photo, 2002
Raising Helen, 2004 (F)
Raising Victor Vargas, 2003
Run Lola Run, 1998 (F)
Secretary, 2002 (F)
Shadrach, 1998 (F)
Sleepover, 2004
That's My Face, 2001
The Dinner Game, 1999
The Royal Tenenbaums, 2001 (F)
The Watermelon Woman, 1996 (F)
Tortilla Soup, 2001 (F)
Total Eclipse, 1995 (F)
Woman on Top, 2000 (F)
I had another strange dream. I shook out of this one at 3:30 a.m. and I never returned to sleeping so instead I sent an email to a friend, did a bit of ironing, and took a long hot bath.
The Dream
I was in Philly being followed and spoken to in kind tone by a former associate – a woman who has professed her undying hatred for me, made it very clear she wished she had never gotten to know me outside of a like associate, and suggested I seek therapy.
...what can I say?
Anyhooo
In the dream, she wanted to give to me hands on directions to Morimoto’s restaurant.
We walked and were near the sea and I ran into my mother who was nagging me about something. I cursed her and it was at that point I should have realized I was dreaming.
See - had I cursed my mother in reality, I am certain I would have “come to” in the nearest emergency room. I don’t know. I’ve never tried but I have an idea she has some major hands on arse whipping potential if provoked.
I rushed to get away from them both and ran past an old gas station, fashioned in the way of many in rural America. I saw an attendant seated in front on an old bench. I thought the bench would look great in a garden. He waved and I continued to run along.
A few steps away my feet were bare and touching hot desert sands.
I slowed down a bit when I saw what appeared to be a garter snake. But longer. I turned away but the snake moved quickly towards me. It was a f*cking 10 foot garter snake. He lunged and I grabbed for his head and we struggled.
I awakened.
I wrote an email message to a friend who was traveling outside of the US at the time. I didnt expect an answer. I just sent a hello, request that he return my call upon return so that I might update him on what's been happening with me over the past few weeks. I also made mention I'd had a bad dream about a snake and a gas station attendant - no detail to my crazy journey of a dream.
His reply.
Classic.
"I understand the snake part, but the station attendant -- how big was his pump?"
*I love my friends*
In response to an email from a frustrated poster - sorry for the delayed response – here you go!
Situation: On several occasions, while just kissing and doing a bit of heavy petting with her partner, as soon as he climbs on top of her, he shivers each time right before she removes her undies (he asks her to wait each time once he realizes she is ready to peel of the undies).
Loud moan. Another Shiver. He is done, apologetic, but done nonetheless.
Even the most sympathetic person would find his state of affairs testing.
Okay Girlie.
I suggest you leave him.
Period.
Today.
We have enough to deal with in relationships. Sex should not be issue number one.
Ah, but since you made it clear this is not an option, I suggest you talk to him and see where his head is. Sometimes, men just need to rethink their views about sex – changing views of thinking it’s a dirty act, feeling more confident, or getting rid of anxieties.
Maybe he needs therapy.
Maybe you shouldn’t wear panties when out with him – cut to the chase and you might get a little inside action.
Sometimes, men just need to slow down. At times they need less foreplay.
I am not a sexpert so I have no f*cking idea why you are asking me, BUT, of course I have an opinion.
I’d suggest against the sprays and lotions you made mention of because I’ve heard they desensitize.
Maybe you suck, in a bad way – literally. Maybe he is screwing someone else. Maybe you are ugly and he can’t bring himself to move further. Maybe you smell funny (I’m thinking this is the case). Maybe you are too hairy. Maybe you don’t have enough hair (yes, some men have issues with baldies – I was once told it brought to mind a child instead of a woman).
How would f*ck would I know?
I’ve been told that Viagra helps premature ejaculation. It’s not just for erectile dysfunction. If he needs it – do yourself and partner a favor and see a doctor. I have been told it makes men last a while longer and allows multiple sessions.
I am certain you can read about this all online, just as you read my blog.
But in the meantime, don’t make him feel guilty since you are adamant about keeping his quick shot arse. Thrust forward and enjoy the situation – even if it never makes it inside.
Get your good rub on.
To answer your question – no it does not count.
Best wishes getting Racer X out of the too fast lane Miss Rotten Crotch.
People.
Please be careful of who answers your phone.
Some things are not for exposure to your home callers – our ignorant or old friends or relatives might fall into that category.
I spent 20 minutes on the phone, during Superbowl, talking to the great-auntie of an associate.
She asked me to call her Aunt Katie.
I asked her to let him know I was not on the way to his gathering, but instead I had to listen to an explanation of his family tree, to include the two “bastard” children born to the mistress/whore of a great-great-great uncle; mention of how my associate was a bed wetter until he was almost ten; and, laughing about how they had to monitor him constantly because he rubbed on the legs of women wearing nice hosiery – mostly strangers… just to name a few things I just didn’t want to know about.
I would have posted this yesterday but I wanted to first ask him if I might share this story.
Okay, the story about the mistress whore was quite interesting, especially since she had previously been with a cousin before getting knocked up the first time, and with a neighbor right before getting knocked up with the second kid. Had she shared that alone, I would have been a happy camper. I love to hear stories about whoredom in the past, as told best by people who were there to witness the skank first hand.
But
She was loud and slow. And I had to tell her my name at least 6 times because although her voice was very loud, she couldn’t hear a damned thing I said (such as my explanation that I was sorry but I have to go at least 10 times).
She never passed the message to him that I called, so I still got a K-M-A (kiss my arse) message on my answering service for missing the event and never calling.
I’m having a hunch they locked Aunt Katie in one of the third floor bedrooms while entertaining guests on the first and second floors. My associate claims this is not the case.
I’m also guessing they locked her old ass in the room with some tea sandwiches, bottle of bourbon, chewing “bacco”, pack of depends, and a crazy straw.
It turns out Mr. Prim and proper has some questionable roots.
She really should not have been able to answer the phone - he should have just unplugged the damned thing.
No aroma compares to the seductive fragrance of fresh truffles. The sexy, pungent, earthy flavors exploding on my tongue reminds me very much of…well…other things.
I feel warm and almost animalistic in the company of the truffle – black or white, I don’t discriminate – instead, I enjoy.
While I prefer the Italian and French truffles, I will take a less flavorful Oregon truffle if all else fails – hey, a girl has to do what a girl has to do.
After preparing a meal, I lit my favorite vanilla candle to enhance the scent of my lobster mashed potatoes (lobster, potatoes, butter, green onions - both white and green parts, salt, pepper, cream, and tarragon) topped with a few small truffle shavings. For the finish, I drizzled the infused truffle oil on top of my dish.
Very intentional.
I drizzle it slowly.
"The most learned men have been questioned as to the nature of this tuber, and after two thousand years of argument and discussion their answer is the same as it was on the first day: we do not know. The truffles themselves have been interrogated, and have answered simply: eat us and praise the Lord."
--Alexandre Dumas (1802-1870)
You don’t have to be drunk off your arse or stoned to have a pink elephant sighting. I have always loved Belgium beers but my beer, the best beer in the world, explanation in a word: unexplainable.
Delirium Tremens.
http://www.pascalkolkman.com/delirium/indexeng.html
Thank me now.
You are most welcome.
Conservative as I be
Traditional
Strong morals and values
There is also she
A very liberal side of me
Who is adamant that I wear no panties
Always free
And enjoying the liberties
She leaves me with no wedges
We save floss just for my teeth
No tangas, bikinis, thongs, or jumbled clothing underneath
No panty lines or frowning face
No girle lace, but just in case I keep an emergency pair of boxer briefs
Though I’d rather wear a fig leaf
Conservative as I be
I wear no panties
I guess the apple does not fall far from the tree.
After my daughter and I had a most awful Sunday Brunch at Lauriol Plaza we headed to David Greggory for something edible, only to discover they were no longer serving brunch.
My daughter announced she wanted Sushi.
I headed back to our area and went to Left Bank since the bartender there is the sh*t and makes the best martinis (work it with ya cute self Miss Man).
Upon arrival my daughter requested we be seated at the sushi bar and was told no other customers wanted sushi since they were still serving brunch. My daughter then asked what time the sushi bar opened and the maitre d replied a time that had just passed by 15 minutes. My daughter happily replied “Well here I am and I want sushi – please, and thank you”.
Immediate discomfort for him.
Immediate humor for me.
She then walked by him and sat herself at the sushi bar, turned to me, and while speaking with her mouth covered said “Well who pray tell runs this sushi bar? I am absolutely starved” and proceeded to order $60 in sushi (she even ordered Gunkan).
I sat there quietly and slammed back two Ketel One Martinis, watched her eat and rave about the freshness of the sushi, listened to the “politics” of her middle school and wondered… who in pray tell said who in pray tell around my kid.
Pray tell from where on earth does this saying come?
...I love my kid but I am definitely glad I have only one – who in pray tell can afford her sushi habit?
*snicker*
I haven’t always been selfish with my goodies. Here are a few of my walks of shame/mornings after. I will only admit to the ones during which I was spotted and called out…
Monday morning, hailing a taxi (couldn’t find my car) in DC -U Street, wearing silver 4 inch strappy sandals, silver clutch, yellow taffeta tank top and his jeans 4 sizes too large for me. Bulging from the front pocket was my yellow micro mini skirt. Spotted by an ex and called out immediately – I was offered a ride even. I tried clicking my heels three times, but it just didn’t work.
Sunday morning at Starbucks in DC - Adams Morgan, totally hung over, wearing his sweat shirt, his sweat pants, and his leather slippers. Bra strap hanging from the “overnight” bag but I didn’t notice until I started digging through the bag for cash. Spotted by a former subordinate (whom I terminated), who went out of her way to say hello. Finally, she was on point – she should have been that way when we worked together.
November 1st, at gas station on a military base in Virginia wearing my GI Jane costume still… now that was one hell of a costume party we threw the day before (Capitol Hill). Spotted by my best friend’s mother who was shopping at the nearby PX. Opening to our discussion? Classic (I love this woman) “so Miss Lady -- I see you are still single”.
Saturday morning, at Bob & Edith’s in Virginia picking up a called in to-go order with foam machine residue still on my arms wearing his sweat pants and my red stiletto boots. Yes – there are foam parties in this area, and no I am not going to tell you where. Spotted by my mother’s neighbor – I am so very much appreciative of her never mentioning this brief encounter, but I wonder still what the hell SHE was doing in that area that time of the morning – oh well, maybe we are BOTH keeping a secret.
*snicker*
I don’t really miss those days, but I REALLY miss those damned red stiletto boots.
*they were perfect for Wonder Woman role-play, but if you try this, stay away from the golden lasso!*
AMAZON PRINCESSES UNITE!!