my therapist and I spent today's session ripping on girls with white plastic beads and spray tans. yes, both of us. I fucking love therapy.
17 July 2007
16 July 2007
Would that I could say I was at my Sartre discussion group last night, and I totally would have been if it hadn't been called on account of rain. Instead last night I did something so awful and disgusting that I wouldn't be surprised if I got kicked out of the Sartre discussion group and the Smarty People's League and never asked back.
Last night I watched both "Ummmm I forget what it's called, the show where Bret Michaels picks skanks" and "Scott Baio is Single and 45."
In a vain attempt to salvage my dignity by having rigorous discussions a la Sartre, I have the following questions. Please use your signature Smarty People fountain pen and.. begin:
1. Did you laugh when the guy weeded out the superdogs?
2. Did you stop laughing when Skankerella talked (blew) her way back inside?
3. What do you think that house smelled like at the end of the night?
4. Who was skankiest? Who was skank runner up?
5. Does that African American chick realize how annoying she is?
6. Why does it always look like Erin Moran styles her own hair using a pair of tweezers and a Bic lighter?
7. Didn't it seem like Jason Hervey would be a surprisingly good friend to have?
8. What's up with Scott Baio's amnesia?
9. Did you laugh when Scott Baio's idiot girlfriend lisped, "I am the only girl he hasn't cheated on!"
10. Will you come over and shoot my tv so I never watch these again?
oh yeah and
11. Tiffany kept screecching she'd MADE A HAT. Do we want to know what the hat looks like? Is it an asshat?
13 July 2007
1. it's nice and cool and I have all the windows open
2. my wet doggy is asleep on my feets and it feels nice, or it felt nice until about a half hour ago when I lost all feeling in my feets
3. the jenny from the block song becomes tolerable after it repeats in your brain for more than four hours
4. I'm 'bout to eat lunch, yum
5. I am not going to do ANY work this weekend, except maybe one little bit of organizing a new binder of like organized stuff if I can finish working out in my head that categories the binder is going to have and how it will work but other than that NO WORK!
6. I fixed my toilet my own self without having to call 911, Home Depot, my brother or the fire department
7. I like peas
8. I heard a funny joke
9. there's a big bumbling wasp that flew in the open window and can't get out because he keeps zooming about two feet too low and crashing into the curtains and he's phenomenally stupid and I think it's funny
10. iced tea!!!!!!!!!!!
this day has started out sucking in such a completely truly epitome-of-suck way that I am at a loss for how to even continue it.
you wanna know how bad it is? fine. I'm telling.
Every single time I do something today, this is what I hear:
Don't be fooled by the rocks that I got/I'm still, I'm still Jenny from the block.
It won't fucking stop.
I thought I had blasted it outta my head by chanting other things to myself as I drank my delicious coffee, like "I want Charles in charge of meee!" and "if there was a problem, yo, I'd solve it, check out the hook while my dj revolves it" and "todayyy I am still just a bill" but as those receded and my pleasantly blank mind went on to the next task, large-assed serial marrier Jennifer Lopez called out from some far reach of my cranium, "don't get fooled by the rocks that I got!"
I'll be fooled by your fucking rocks if I want to, homegirl. Go way.
12 July 2007
Yes, you, the person who unfriended me yesterday.
I always hated you, I never could stand you and frankly our entire friendship was a big fat JOKE. That's right, a JOKE.
I NEVER reposted the bulletins if you sent them that said if I didn't repost within ten minutes with the subject line "I like big boobies," I would never get laid again (which sadly turned out to be eerily accurate), I NEVER thought you looked like that celebrity your surveys if those were yours always said you thought you looked like, and I NEVER, EVER posted a photobucket baloony bear animation in your comments on your birthday.
I hated you, I could barely pretend to stand you, and whichever one of my hundreds of friends you are, I KNOW, honey, that we will be FAR BETTER OFF this way, not being friends anymore. If you hadn't unfriended me when you did, trust me, I would have unfriended YOUR lame ass. If I knew who you were.
In the wise, wise words of my friend Beyonce, "I ain't gonna trash you on the Internet, cuz my mama taught me better than that." Well, truth be told, my mother barely knows what the internet is. She thinks I go on MySpace to get heroin or something. But I am just going to walk away with my head held high, glad that I don't have to carry you anymore whoever you were. Me and all my other friends are going to be just fine without you.
Unless it was you, "Dish TV for Less" that unfriended me. In which case seriously, friend me back. That HBO code didn't work and I really would like to see "Entourage" without having to go Over to Erica's house. Hit me back??
I like to do this for fun. My fun, mind you, probably not your fun. I like to take things I find stupid and make em... Stewpid. Today we will Stewpidify Lora Zarubin's blog, "Eating Around" (snort, snort, humph, choked back laughter at implied lesbian joke) in House & Garden. And off we go...
Anyone who knows me knows that I am completely obsessed with cock, the superb Spanish penises also known as Banana Hammocks. On my recent trip to Newark I set out to steal which variety of radioactive weed was the best, something that startled so much of my wolfpack that my martyred donkeys began referring to Erik Estrada as Our Lady of the Ford Pinto or Santa Maria del Screamy Noises.
While looting a jail bond store I noticed a high end herpes sore shop across the street with the same name as my mother. They were indeed boring beyond belief and as soon as I moonwalked in, I saw some slack-jawed Southerners hanging there and a few slaughter tables at the turn of the century. We discovered that they had a disease-free retarded kids menu of ham and toxic waste, but I had no idea what I was actually in for until we sat down and Britney Spears's pee was poured and some hideous thick dicked bread rubbed with tomato and olive oil was made to orgasm before us. The Lithuanian bartender did not make the bread soggy and when I asked about what vicious thugs they used, they told me the job I need to get is called Duane Reade clerk, a special variety that is anally pierced for a few days before being smeared on west 86th Street. This is a fudgepacking specialty but it is better in Metuchen than anywhere else we screamed it, because it comes from a great little unexploded minefield across the street.
My friends, speeding is a terrible, terrible crime and you should not do it. If you do, though, you should do it in the tiny metropolis where I sped where the court is air-conditioned and pleasant and the judge is completely amenable to shredding those tickets which you do not wish to accept, and all that is asked in order for you not to have a criminal speeding record is one Saturday in driver's ed class.
Posted by stewpid at 10:15 AM
11 July 2007
Well, all those years of watching Nancy Grace and The First 48 are really going to hit home for the ole Stewinator reeeaaalll soon. Yep, the law caught up with me and yep, I'm going before the judge.
No, I haven't murdered anyone! Yet. I haven't stolen, either, or I would have stolen Nick Lachey's heart. I haven't embezzled, or trust me, I wouldn't be sitting around blogging, I'd be buying awesome gifts for my awesome buddies. Nope, I got popped for going 54 in a 40. Tonight I face due process, and I expect them to throw the book at me since going 54 in a 40 is a reckless, lawless thing to do and I am deeply ashamed of myself.
Normally I am totally law abiding except when I smoke pot and grow mushrooms. And steal music. And once I shoplifted bean dip. And I don't always scoop up puppy poops, especially the runny ones.
I should have just burst into tears when the fuzz pulled me over, or at very least politely asked, "please don't give me a ticket" which btw totally worked last week when I was doing 85 in a 60 in Texas. Instead, I lamely said, "I don't think my car can even go 54," which as it turns out was really not the right thing to say because the guy said, "yep, it sure can!" and then wrote me an extra ticket for my blinker light being out and then, like the cheese course of rich delights in a delicious meal of traffic tickets, one bonus one for not having my insurance card with me.
Three tickets. Three hours till court. Three hundred beans in fines facing me. I am going to try to get traffic school in lieu of the speeder, and for the other two, I plan to chant "At-ti-ca! At-ti-ca!" and cry and pull my top down to show the court my boobs and hope that somehow a meteor drops through the ceiling and in the confusion, my charges get converted to tax credits and the state ends up sending me a check for several thousand dollars.
It could happen.
But it's not gonna.
The best we can hope for is that justice prevails and I walk out with a less-than 15-to-life sentence. Given my luck, I will spend my evening in federal pound-me-in-the-ass prison. I'm trying to learn the lyrics to some good chain gang songs but I am too nervous. Maybe I can get the chain gang to sing the "Growing Pains" theme with me, which would be awesome.
Everybody now! "Show me that smile again! (Show me that smi-hile) Don't waste another minute on your cryin'! We're nowhere near the end (nowhere ne-ear the end), the best is ready to begiiiin!" Bye, guys, see you in the Yard.
10 July 2007
K, so, through top-secret means (read: Roofies), I was able to get access to secret casting documents that show that Kirk Cameron was pretty much God's last choice for messiah. Here, for the first time: God's Other Choices and the Reasons Why They Didn't Work Out
God's first choice:
Kirk Cameron co-star and "Growing Pains" dad Alan Thicke
Pros: Works cheap, was on "Growing Pains" (apparently God is a big "Growing Pains" fan)
Cons: Is gross, has binding exclusive contract for grody Vegas timeshare ripoff place ads
God's second choice:
Father Mulcahy from M*A*S*H
Pros: Completely and utterly available
Cons: in God's words, "too obvs"
God's third choice:
Pros: Great recognizability, inspiring triumph-over-ghetto-upbringing story, available
Cons: murders people
God's fourth choice:
other "Growing Pains" child actor, Jeremy Miller
Pros: cute, likeable, was on Growing Pains (what is it with God and Growing Pains???)
Cons: Focus groups ask, "is he Cory Feldman or Corey Haim?", donkey punch problems
God's fifth choice:
Cons: Was never on "Growing Pains," is annoying
So there you have it, from God's very own casting files. Cool, huh?
ok, I found Kirk's vids on -- get this -- GodTube. Not even AOGod or Godoogle or MyGodSpace. Nope, GodTube.
This has some guy haranguing people about not seeing movies with blasphemy in them. No one really seems to have the slightest clue what the fuck he's talking about, so he asks about going to movies where God's name is used as a cuss word. People kinda reluctantly agree with him that maybe that's not the greatest idea, but you can also see them thinking, "I'm not sure I've ever seen God's name used as a cuss word, you self-righteous bunghole." I'll warn you -- the clip goes on for fucking ever and the pause button doesn't work. Or maybe the pause button does work -- in HEAVEN!
There are more clips here, the kind of stuff I was watching on tv last night.
Also, I just googled "apologetics" and I kind of thought it means "apologizing to people for being such a jerky logic-free pain in the ass" but apparently it means "the words of a jerky logic-free pain in the ass."
God, I'm really sorry you have so many a-holes on your team. Seems like Buddha got all the cool stars, and I bet that's seriously annoying. On the upside, you can sick everyone with boils and fleas and shit, and I bet that's just super-fun.