Blond Archives - Page 84 of 87

Rant Again.

June 24, 2005/1 Comment/in Blond, Grumples, Molly, Trent, World /by Megan

When you see a girl wearing capris (or guy, we don’t descriminate), please don’t say, “Oh, it looks like your pants shrunk.” It’s not funny. Seriously. Not at all funny.

Please stop cowaring in fear everytime I come home because you did something you know you weren’t supposed to do. Just stay out of the bathroom trash and stop chewing on the rugs, dog! And you absolutely must stop peeing when you see that I see that you’ve done something wrong. Peeing will not make me forgive you any faster!

When your giant german shepherd runs up to my dog at the park growling and trying to fight with her (as she rolls over and shouts, “Look, I have huge nipples! Please don’t hurt me!), don’t say, “Oh, he always does that to Rottweilers. It must be a defense mechanism. Get them before they get you.” Does it look like my dog is going to attack yours. Maybe after she wets herself and passes out.

Put your shirt back on. Seriously, no one wants to see that. No, I mean it. Put it back on or I’m leaving.

Yes, I am blond. Yes, I look nice today. No, you cannot touch my boob.

If you tell everybody stories about me peeing in the car whilst intoxicated, you better not be bitching about me telling the world you’re having a LAN party. It’s who you are! Be proud! I am a geek and my girlfriend can pee in a cup! I am not ashamed!

If I ever have a bachelorette party, nobody, and I mean FUCKING NOBODY, better make me wear any sort of veil made of streamers or tell anyone I’m getting married soon. How am I supposed to make out with the bartender if everyone knows I’m getting hitched?

My car’s oil should be changed automatically. And whoever broke into my car at the dog park should be drug out into the street and shot. But next time buddy, make sure you look in the envelope with the $100, then remove the cash, then leave, instead of just throwing shit around and emptying my swim bag.

A special shout-out to Matt Lauer for circumcising Tom Cruise on the Today show.

I still may need the rum.

June 23, 2005/3 Comments/in Blond, Grumples, Trent, Work /by Megan

Quick rundown of last 12 hours.

Went to volleyball game where we actually WON A SET using our never-fail technique of just hitting the ball over the net without setting up any kind of play. I tried to instill a new method of actually playing like all the other teams do, but then we started losing and I was overuled. Then we drank several (5???) pitchers of beer. Then I got very drunk, ordered massive amounts of greasy food and went home.

After my triumphant return home, I decided, once again, I am a mean drunk. I got home, got bitchy and Trent & I got in a rather large screaming match about me being drunk and bitchy (my defense was “you shouldn’t call me a bitch!” while waving my gun in the air). Luckily, no one was hurt, except for the dog who thought she was the bitch of the house and was deeply offended by the accusation that her position would be taken by anyone. She’s still not speaking to me.

After I STORMED OUT IN A DRUNKEN STUPOR, I went for a pleasant walk where I was, thankfully, not obducted by aliens or rapists. At least I don’t think I was.

Then I passed out. I believe Trent had to put the newly washed sheets on the bed while I was sleeping. Not a small task, but he is an incredible man.

Then, when my fucking alarm went off at 5:45 IN THE MORNING, I attempted to walk, and obviously, failed miserably. Spent most of the morning in the bathroom (not showering) and trying to speak real words outloud so that I wouldn’t be talking to this company CEO at 7 a.m. going, “Well (small pause while I vomit) , I think that I would be the biggest slut at your company. I mean assface. I mean asset!”

I guess all stories have a happy ending. She called. I didn’t say assface. I got the job. A bit less money, but much higher quality of life and I won’t want to cut off my big toe on a daily basis. At least, not because of work-related business. Also, I may be the first person to accept a job offer while sitting on the bathroom floor trying to decide which end this demon in my stomach is going to come out of.

Now I just have to figure out how to quit my other hell. I mean job.

Wherein I ridicule Tom Cruise to break the tension.

June 21, 2005/1 Comment/in Blond, Fun, World /by Megan

I have noticed some of the last few articles on this blog (Articles! Ha! Yes, these are most definetely serious pieces of Journalism) are pretty damn depressing. Now, I have every right to be pretty damn depressed (see past few blogs of fire), but the time for nervous laughter has come!

“Let’s face it, women have a lot of mental problems in general. They’re always saying ‘I’m depressed, I lack energy, I can’t pay attention. I fear social situations. I’m tired of living this lie.’ …Bitches are stupid. I say that with love and understanding.”

Happy Birthday!

June 14, 2005/1 Comment/in Blond, Fun, Photos, Work /by Megan

It’s my one-year website anniversary. Literally, one year ago today I posted the first entry on what would later become the Crazy Bananas phenomenon. Hooray for me! Let’s all have cake and drink beers. I think that sounds like a grand idea. Don’t you?

Happy birthday to me and my PowerBook “Macaroni.” This is our anniversary picture from one year ago. My, how we’ve grown. We’ve had quite the virtual year. Also, happy “interview for new job day” to me. Let’s hope I don’t say “fuck” during the interview. Or “poop.” Or “shit.” Possibly “crap,” but only under the right circumstances.

$20 Drinks and Being Rejected.

June 12, 2005/0 Comments/in Blond, Grumples, Photos /by Megan

So, there was obviously no late-night, drunken blogging last night. Truly, we would have, but we felt like such losers we had to come home and drink more before stuffing our faces with PB&J sandwiches and Easy Mac. Oh, and fruit snacks.

After several hours of attempting to pre-drink (Abbie barely drank and Mara was getting a bit annoyed with my lack of drunken behavior) we headed out to swanky bar central, The Plaza. After hearing Abbie bitch the whole way because her feet hurt, we stopped at a certain swanky bar with a swanky Red Room where we went to order swanky drinks. $20 freaking dollars!!!! Love of GOD!!!

At this bar, the long held mystery of woman was finally revealed. Though when boys are caught staring at us and trying to pick us up, we get extremely pissed, we get much more irritated when we are not picked up. AT ALL. NOT. BY. ONE. FUCKING. GUY.

And it’s not that we are looking to pick up guys (Luke and Trent, don’t fret), but damnit, if I’m going to get all pimped out for a night of swanky barness, there better be some glancing in my direction. At the end of the night, we finally realized we were either the biggest lame-o’s on the planet (or quite possibly, the universe) or we are just so fucking hot and gorgeous and awsome and funny and exciting and intriguing that we are unapproachable. I’m going with option number 2. Because I am that vain.

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