stoopid is

Chronicles of my constant mishaps and retarded nature.

Saturday, April 29, 2006

Orchestrating the Crowd

Orchestrating the Crowd
Originally uploaded by StoopidGirl.
Don't you just feel like you're there? I took this at the Rob Zombie concert the other night of our friend Sam. Sam is a lucky guy, he gets to run the projectors for a lot of big tours. Ahh what a lucky guy.

Friday, April 28, 2006

The Eagle has landed

The golden egg has been laid

Skeletor has left the building! (see previous post)

It is time for celebration. Coming to work today was so much fun (ew, did I just say that?). People were actually happy and said good morning with smiles. It's amazing what happens when you take Satan out of the equation. That's right folks, my company canned the evil rotten bitch who has terrorized me along with many others for quite some time. You want to know what the best part is? The Words "I should have fired her when Emily was still in our department." were muttered from the boss...ahh it's music to my ears. Man I love if only Karma would bring me a raise.

Are you listening Karma? For my good deed I would like a raise...and another cadburry egg...or another job that pays more and is far cooler than puching numbers into a computer or a castle. I don't think it's too much to ask.

As of last night Rob Zombie officially thinks my boyfriends Mini is if only I had had mine with me I could claim that as well. So Karma? If you're still tuned in, this doesn't count, you still owe me. Cheers!

Wednesday, April 26, 2006

Abandon all hope yee who enter here

All day today I had been thinking about what I wanted to write in my blog. I didn’t want to post it until the actual event took place. I had the whole thing mapped out in my head; it was going to be a brilliant post and quite possibly the happiest from me yet. The title was going to be “Skeletor has left the building”, unfortunately I will not get to use this wonderful title today. I will have to save my happy-dance and beer drinking for another time.

For those who don’t know what or whom I’m talking about; this is about the person we all know, the person we work with and despise all the way to the deepest depths of our souls. My skin crawls when she passes me, she is evil…pure evil. She has been the bane of my existence for over a year. She has sneeze-farted (a-k-a snarted) on my shoulder and yelled at me over paperclips. She has turned me into a bitter vengeful person. It is because of her I’ve contemplated tire slashing or offering up cookies made with chocolate ex-lax bars (yes it exists and is a great revenge tactic), I’ve thought about quitting my job and I’ve thought about slamming her head repeatedly on the photocopier and yelling “You are creepy and if you ever try to be my friend by massaging my shoulders again I will kick you in the vagina and shit down your throat!” Trust me, this may sound a little harsh but you have never met her. Due to her bitter nature she has earned the nicknames Skelator, Leatherface, Stephen King, and Medusa. She freaks out about every thing, back stabs everyone, eaves drops and complains constantly among numerous other infractions. Her life is miserable, she smokes like a chimney, everything around her dies (husband, parents, siblings), she's always getting sick, (one kidney and half her stomach have now been removed, not to mention the cancer) and she's allergic to everything known to man kind (except her cigarettes). I have tried everything to make the situation better so my attitude would not get to the negative point it has taken. Did I mention she talks to herself?

Unfortunately there never seemed to be much light at the end of the tunnel. I prayed to the Gods of Human Resources that she would get fired but my prayers went unanswered. Until today. Today I heard voices carried in the wind. The axe was going to fall and it was going to fall at 4pm. This would be the day that would forever be market on my calendar as a celebratory holiday; it would be more fun than “Talk like a Pirate” day (maybe). I tried not to do the happy dance too early. All these emotions and thoughts were running through my head; She’s going to be gone for good and I don’t feel bad about it! Will this truly be the last time I will feel my hairs stand on end as she walks by? Will the entire company break out in song? What if they back out and don’t fire her? No, no…don’t think that. Breath Emily, Breath. Happy thoughts. They will fire her, thy will be done!

Then 4pm came….and went. 4:15 I receive the death blow. There it was, sitting in my in box. It was an email from the wind and it was bad. “The goose did not lay the golden egg! I repeat, the goose did not lay the golden egg! Abandon all hope” and thus my day ended on a sad note. I don’t know why it didn’t happen, all I know is I now need the beer to wallow in my sorrows. My happy-dance has turned into a slow drowning moan. Skeletor will leave the building today but she will return in the morning unscathed.

DESTROYING LIVES; One text message at a time

So there I was, sitting in my Psychology class listening to my teacher blather on. I noticed one of my fellow classmates giggling and flirting with a girl. He’s a cool guy and she seems nifty, maybe I’ll give him a little nudge to go for it. So I sent him a text message.

ME; Are you getting the hook-up or what?

I giggled and waited to see the look on his face but nothing happened. Maybe his phone is on silent I thought, he’ll get it after class and probably be confused as to what I’m talking about. I soon forgot about the message, left class, went home and fell fast asleep.

Bright and early this morning I hear the familiar buzz of my phone alerting me to a new message. Sure enough it was Alvin…well, that’s what I thought.

NOT ALVIN; Who are you?

ME; It’s Emily, I saw you flirting with that girl in class last night.

NOT ALVIN; I don’t know you

Before I could respond

NOT ALVIN again; What school do you go to and who are you sending this message to?

Realizing I had programmed Alvin’s number wrong into my phone

ME; Oops, sorry. I’m dyslexic and typed the number in wrong

NOT ALVIN; Ok hope you’re not sending this message to Brandon

ME; Nope

This was the end of our conversation. Now at this point it doesn’t seem very significant or entertaining at the least. Just a misguided text message right? Wrong! Dead wrong. I processed the situation a little more. They said “hope” they hoped I wasn’t sending the message to Brandon. This wasn’t an act of good will trying to make sure that Brandon got the message in case I really did type the number in right. This was the act of someone else, someone who thinks I’m lying about having the wrong number trying to cover my tracks. Here are the scenarios as to who was writing me back.

  1. It was Brandon’s mother. He’s probably a 12 year old Mormon boy currently getting yelled at by his mom. “Who is this Emily person and you’re too young to flirt with girls! Consider yourself grounded young man!” she would then sulk off crying because her little boy might not be a little boy much longer.
  2. It was Brandon's Dad. Well we know it wasn't because he wouldn't have said "hope" but just incase he would be patting his son on the back saying "So did you get the girl's number?"
  3. It was Brandon’s girlfriend. They have probably had numerous trust issues in the past and this is probably the straw that will break the camel’s back. I can hear her now, poor Brandon probably couldn’t get a word of defense in at all. (insert tears of scorned female) “You’re such an asshole! Who were you flirting with last night? You said you loved me! You said it would never happen again! You’re a liar! I never want to see you again!” She then smashes his phone, eliminating any possibility of calling me to find out I really don’t know Brandon.
  4. It was Brandon’s boyfriend. See scenario above, only difference is They will end up in a cat fight tearing off each others clothing and then screw like jack rabbits because they’re men and men like to screw. This scenario will repeat itself many times over until they’ve finally had enough of each other.

So thus you have my 3 stories. If you have a better one feel free to include it. I am officially an evil horrible person, purely by accident of course. This reminds me of the time I drove by a couple holding hands and yelled “Fuck him, I did!” the girl immediately slapped the guy. I was not an accidental evil person in this case, I was just young but it sure was funny.

So to Brandon you poor poor boy, good luck today.

Tuesday, April 25, 2006

Sugar & Spice

Sugar & Spice
Originally uploaded by StoopidGirl.
Because I'm failing miserably in the (not so ego boosting) blog-wars on BlogExplosion, here is a cute puppy as a bribe.

This is my friends little dog named Sugar. Normally I don't like small dogs because they're all barky and get in your way. Sugar is an exception because she doesn't bark she just skids around in circles on the floor making clickity noises with her nails. It makes me giggle everytime...then I pick her up and she falls asleep, I wish I could go from being that excited to that sleepy that quick. Yay for little puppies.

Is my bribe working? Are you happy now? Aww come on, how can anyone resist the one eye and pink tongue?

Monday, April 24, 2006

The Home Stretch

I just saw a little old lady who had fallen asleep while pushing a baby stroller.

Here's the kicker;

She was still walking!

Sunday, April 23, 2006

Oh the humanity

While Blog-Crashing today I have come to the conclusion that there aren't any funny bloggers in this world anymore, at least not this early on a Sunday. Maybe once noon hits and people start drinking something ,mildly entertaining will flash itself across my screen. I mean sure, some are sort of funny. I was reading one that started to get a chuckle from me, until the end of the story which was just stupid. If you are about to get to the funny part please don't stop and say it's all a dream. That's not funny. I am a baby and you just stole my lollipop, damn you. I also don't understand these people who spend more time talking about being funny then they actually are. The funniest thing I came across today was some highly religious man blogging about webcam puppetry and posting the photos to prove it. He had been chatting with a few girls and getting them all to do the same motions (i.e. touching their nose) while utilizing the "print screen" button. All though I don't recall laughing about it so maybe it's really not funny. I now feel like I was touched where my bathing suit goes....daddy.
For those of you reading this who think you're funny....this is my non funny post for you today. Stop trying so damn hard and just be.

Oh yeah, and if you're here because I left you a comment then you have been spared the non funny dinging of my non funny fairy wand. Bless you child for you have not sinned.

And the boredom continues,
I crush you like bugs

Friday, April 21, 2006

Feel the wrath of my boredom

Feel the wrath of my boredom
Originally uploaded by StoopidGirl.

Pardon Me

But you're all idiots!

This is what I should have said while butting in to a conversation I overheard at work just now. Sometimes I can't help but say something when I hear a bunch of people standing around talking about something they know nothing about and then look at you like you're rude when you give them the quick, easy,and factual answer. Before entering the delightful mortgage industry I was a hairdresser. I started doing peoples hair at an early age and have been licensed for over 6 years now, so I think I might know a little something about the subject. The gaggle of girls were debating one of our clients who claims she is a self employed hairdresser. In theory this is correct, even when you work for a salon, a lot of times you are considered an independent contractor. Apparently this person does not have a license nor do they have a business license to own a salon. Here lies the confusion.

Them; "Well, I don't know if you need a license to do hair?"

Me; (still sitting below eye level in my cube)"Yes, you need a license to do hair or it's illegal."

Them; “Well maybe they own a salon?"

Me;(popping my head to eye level) "Then they would need a Salon license but not necesarilly a hair license if they only own it or it is illegal."

Them;"So if they are doing hair they need a license no matter where they work?"

ME;“Yes, that is correct."

Them; “Well maybe they work at home."

Me; (sitting back down and ignoring the most ignorant comment I've heard in months. If anyone wants to lend me a hammer so I can smash my head with it, let me know.)

And the list grows

I've mentioned several times before the rediculous names parents have burdened upon their children. Well, I'm back with the new and improved list. These are real names I come accross while at work. I have no idea what some of these parents were thinking. The names of Asian decent are excluded from the bad parenting slander due to the fact that they aren't American and our terms our completely diferent, but they're still funny and we should all laugh at them.

Here are the people that amazingly made it through childhood and didn't slit their wrists at an early age.
This is in no particular order.

Hung Duong (wife, Mi Duong)
Li Qing Wang
Harry Panis
Sach Ryder
Pearl Tang
Ivory White (black guy)
Rock Groupe
Cat Hart
Theodore Strange III
Tuesday McClain
Bo Ho
Ta-Me Cherry
Happy Johnson
Luice Yang
Frank S. Arce
Dung Ho
Laguna Pu
Juan Valdez
Bryan A.Ferari
Candy Camero
Fancy English
Warren Tittlemier
Mark S. Life
Richard Stiff
Randy Cloud
Brooke Sky Blue
Zenon Butts
Comfort Banjo

Thursday, April 20, 2006

when was the last time

you had Ants on a Log?
I found celery in my refrigerator, I know I have peanut butter. All I have to do now is get some raisons. My mom use to make this yummy snack for me as a kid. If your mom never made them for you, you're missing out and if you ever have kids it should be a law that you make it for them. This is one of those things that brings back memories. I remember not being able to sever the celery properly and the stringy parts would go between my teeth, cut my gums and smash peanut butter all over my face while trying to yank it off. Mmmm

Wednesday, April 19, 2006

I have a Killer Ass!

No seriously...I have a killer ass. I mean, it's been accused many times before of being deadly, especially after I've eaten a bunch of veggies. It's true, my ass has even made the dog get up and leave the room. Once it even cured my boyfriends swolen wrist when I accidently sat on it. He screamed in horror and nearly punched me. Within a day the swelling was gone and I was thanked for the mighty power that is my ass. I've even given enough Dutch ovens and SBD's (Silent But Deadly) to make a grown man cry. I highly doubt any of these situations count as deadly. Today on the other hand I am proud to say I have a killer ass. I got out of my car and looked down upon my seat. There sat what I assumed was a little flower blossum that the breaze had floated into my car. I leaned down to grab it only to be startled. It was a Bee! Not a; dried up been stuck somewhere for weeks with legs and wings falling off Bee. It was an; I just got squished by a giant white girls ass and now my guts are all gooey on her car seat Bee. I impress myself more and more everyday. I am shocked my ass didn't get stung as that would be the course of action you would think some poor Bee would have taken in it's last valient effort before it was pankaked by my stinky doomdom. I wonder if I should add this to my list of talents? I'm already really good at burning ants, filling hot tubs with massive amounts of bubbles and picking my nose (all though I really need to work on my aim when flinging them).
Bees beware, it's payback time for those 22 stings you gave me as a child in one sitting, or the time you hid inside my coke and attacked my lip like it was a voodoo doll. That time I stuck one of you inside a jar and shook it in circles violently only to let you go and watch you fly away dizzy doesn't count...but it was damn funny.


For years I have been suspicious of birds. When driving I’ve noticed they don’t “just” get hit. It’s not like they were already there and we came plowing along invading their airspace, they actually swoop down in front of your car. For a while I thought it could be bird suicide. It’s entirely possible that many birds hate life because their feathers aren’t pretty enough or they don’t fit in with the other birds. After several years I started to realize it must be a game. They sit on the phone lines waiting for a passing vehicle, snickering to themselves and daring each other to see who can swoop the closest. It’s not just the little birds who do this it’s the big ones too. It was only about a month ago I saw a vulture swoop down and almost get nailed by my friends car but the air current from his 100mph seemed to waft him out of the way.

Where are these birds parents? Is there no control? I have seen so many kinds of bird and vehicle collisions. I’m sure they know by now that if they collide with the grill of a car going 90mph their head will actually fall off (this was tested by my boyfriend). Now if they aim a little higher and hit the windshield there are a few options as to what can happen. They can either be ricocheted approximately 100 feet in the air (tested by a friend of mine) or an even worse fate. While at an autobody shop I was told I needed to see a car that was there. All I had been told was it had hit a bird. Big deal I thought, it’s probably just a bloody mess, that’s normal. Closer inspection showed me a windshield that had caved in like a reverse volcano with chunks of bird and feathers stuck to the perimeter of the hole. Wait…there’s a hole? I looked in the back seat to see portions of the bird (and I mean portions) in the back window. Egads! When will they ever learn?

While driving to work today I watched a bird dart in front of me, luckily I missed but I did realize I’ve been wrong all these years. It’s not bird suicide or a ridiculous game of chicken…it’s the bugs! Think about it, how many birds do you find stuck to the front of you car compared to the number of bugs? That is where the bugs hang out. Maybe bugs would rather have their asshole go through their brain on impact then be eaten by a bird. They’re sneaky little bastards. I mean do they even sleep? Never trust a bug. I bet they would take over the world if they could learn to stop getting hit by cars. Hell they probably know what they’re doing. They’re like suicide bombers, they know that if they sacrifice a few bazillion bugs it will downsize the bird population. I think they should redo their math if that’s the case. It’s natures little payback. Maybe bugs are just sick, they probably enjoy watching birds get demolished. All though, this doesn’t explain why so many other creatures get hit or why opossums jump up before impact rather securing their fate rather than ducking. I’m sure if I think about it long enough I’ll be able to come up with a logical solution for that as well.

Tuesday, April 18, 2006

In the bathroom

Me:(foaming at the mouth) "Mmmm, I love my new toothpaste! It's Lumonous!"

Chris: "Why is it lumonous?"

Me:(holding toothbrush up)"See...It has sparkles! (insert highpitch girl voice) SPARKLE! SPARKLE!"

Chris: hysterical laighing

Saturday, April 15, 2006

11 years

While doing a little extra cleaning today I came across my photo album from 1995. I had forgotten this album came with me to Arizona, rather than being stuck in a storage bin back in North Carolina. The only reason it made it out here unlike all the other tons of photos didn't was because I had forgotten to pack it. The album was half-hazardly tossed into the car with the selection of my remaining worldly possessions only to be shoved in a closet until now. What was I doing 11 years ago? I was the geeky girl I speak of sometimes, someone who is very much still a big part of who I am. I watched my sister go from having a flat stomach to looking like a balloon in a Thanksgiving Day parade thus producting "The Wheat-Thin Kid". I had a best friend who I could talk into doing anything, like dressing up in woman’s cloths and letting me pierce just about every body part he had. I had no idea how long our friendship would last or the struggles of cancer he would face 11 years later (my prayers are with him). This was the year I still felt awkward, yet that outcast in me landed an extra role in a little movie called Empire Records it also allowed a drunk punk rocker to pass out on my shoulder and barf on my feet. It was the year I shaved my head, the year I graduated high school and the year I officially moved out of my dad’s house (the first time). It was a year I will look back at laughing and a year that will bring tears to my eyes. Some things you can never get back and somethings you don't want back. So long 1995.

Friday, April 14, 2006

The Vagina Game

This had me in stitches. I usually don't participate in stupid reposts but I just couldn't help myself. I could add so many movies to this list it's rediculous. I'm sure new ones will be popping into my head all day. Feel free to add yours or repost.
I have edited out the names of the people who submitted the names because it was too confusing. I'ts much funnier to just read the list.
Original bulliten;
The vagina game
Okay y'all.... this is a fun game... lets see how many people we can get to participate in it... The name of the game says it all.... all you have to do is copy this bulletin into a new one. Take the name of a movie and replace one of the words with VAGINA. Don't forget to put your name on it - then we can all see how perverted our friends are. NO REPEATS!!!

A fist full of VAGINA (Clint Eastwood western)
My big fat Greek VAGINA
vagina crashers
How to lose a vagina in 10 days
the 40 year old vagina
broke back vagina
elephant vagina
the Vagina Strikes Back
Monty Python's Search for the Holy Vagina
Vagina State
Finding Vagina
Scary Vagina
In Her Vagina
A vagina to remember!
save the last vagina !
Dirty Vagina (Dirty Dancing.)
Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Vagina
Failure to Vagina
V for Vagina
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Vagina
I Vagina (robot)
Dude where'z my Vagina
Ace Ventura Vagina Detective
Dances with Vagina
Pulp Vagina
The Lost Vagina (The Lost Boys)
THe Dukes of Vagina
Rasing Vagina
Raiders of the Lost Vagina
Legends of the Vagina (Fall)
Vagina Strikes Back
Dirty Rotten Vaginas (Scoundrels)
Don't stop or my Vagina will shoot! (mom)
The Vagina of Oz
Vagina Dynamite
interview with a vagina
Indiana Jones and The Vagina of Doom
Natural Vagina Killers
Vagina Almighty
Memoirs of a Vagina
Snow White and the Seven Vaginas
A perfect Vagina (u know from "a perfect world")
When Harry Met Vagina
Evil Vagina(dead)
Army of Vagina (darkness)

Thursday, April 13, 2006

He Likes Me! He Really Likes Me!

For the past couple of weeks when exiting my car to go to school I keep eyeballing this open manhole. For some reason it kept catching my eye. Now I don’t know if I was staring at it because I’m clumsy and know that I would end up stepping in it or because my obsessive compulsive curiosity was getting the best of me. Let me explain the realms of my OCC (Excessive compulsive curiosity). I’m the type of person that has to know the dumbest things, like if I’m at someone’s house using the restroom and the shower curtain is closed I have to look behind it. I’m not looking for anything, I just simply must know why it’s closed. Is the bathtub nasty? Is there a dead body? Do they use good hair products? If I’m driving and I see a trash bag or dilapidated box on the side of the road I automatically assume there is at least one chopped up body part inside, I have resisted the urge my whole life to stop and find out, I’d rather just settle for the worst case scenario. It has taken me years to break the habit of label pealing or tag snipping, it was quite the pain in the ass to show up at the store and not know what size undergarments to wear or toothpaste you use. Bra shopping is hard enough when you know the size let alone when you don’t. Now I know you’re probably thinking, this girl is insane. Really I’m not, I just have a touch of OCD in different forms, it’s very minor and usually I just ignore it. All though it does bother my boyfriend sometimes that I always have to know why. If I ask a question and he says “No.” then that should be good enough for me…but it’s not, my OCC takes over and I ask why until he wants to flog me or gives up and thinks I’m mentally challenged.

So anyway, back to the topic at hand. I showed up for school and there it was, the manhole, still with its cover half off and still calling to me. I looked around to see if anyone was watching me, walked over to it and peered in. “Ooohh there’s something down there…it’s probably just trash.” I thought. Then I leaned in succumbing to my curiosity. “It’s a CD! I wonder what CD it is?” I started fantasizing about what horrible atrocity awaited me, “Something terrible I’m sure. Gangster rap perhaps? Or better yet, Mexican Gangster rap!” I reached into the dark hole and pulled out a brown CD…”I recognized this….Holy crap! It’s Primus, the Brown Album!”. Thank you God if you really exist. I must have done something right, the CD isn’t even skipping and this is the one Primus album I don’t have.

I went to work the nest day happy and content with my new CD. I was sitting at my desk going through my head on how I wanted to blog my little story when I started thinking “Now all I need is for god to give me a Cadbury Cream Egg.” (I swear to you I actually thought that). Right then I hear a voice from the cubicle next to me “There’s an easter basket full of chocolate goodies for everyone at the front desk!” I was stunned, but no way did God like me this much. I walked up to the desk to see the heavenly basket of goods. Looks like I was right, it’s just chocolate. Wait….what’s that? “He likes me! He really likes me!” The skies have opened up and rained Brown upon my soul. I have a Primus CD and a Cadbury Cream Egg. Oh happy days. I don’t know what I did but I sure hope I do it again. Don’t good things come in 3’s? I wonder what brown goodness will come my way next?….er….don’t answer that.

Wednesday, April 12, 2006

Is it bad?

Is it bad when your place of employment forces you to take "sexual Harrassment" training and when you watch the horribly produced video about sexual harrassment which presents the scenarios in a kindergarten manor that you identify more with the "Clueless sexual harrassment guy" then with the so called "victims"?

As "Clueless sexual harrassment guy" says; People need to lighten up!

Tuesday, April 11, 2006

Oh happy day

It is my 2 year anniversary today with my wonderful boyfriend/husband...he gets both labels because sometimes he's worth it and other times I just want to fart on him.
I'm sure if I find more time later in the day I will give you some insightful thoughts about my relationship...or I will be lazy and you will be able to not yell at me for wasting a few minutes of your day that you will never get back.
Happy anniversary!

Saturday, April 08, 2006


What is the deal with certified pre-owned cars?

Them; "We certify that this car has been owned before."

ME; "Are you sure about that? It looks pretty new to me. You're yanking my chain, this thing is strait up new."

Friday, April 07, 2006

Zit Remedy

Does anyone remember the television show Degrassi Jr. High where this kid
named Joey Jeremiah had a band called "
Zit Remedy"? Well, I could use a little
Zit Remedy right about now. There are so many zits on my face even the
worlds best slalom skier wouldn't make it through alive. There is a virtual
battlefield brewing on the left side of my chin and I'm losing. I can just
hear their little voices "
Sir! All men are present and accounted for. We
have back-ups coming in from the north. The Enemy doesn't stand a chance,
I spent many years battling these little bastards and tried many different
remedies. You'd think at the age of 29 I would have grown out of this faze
of my life. But nooooo, not me. The texture of my skin is at the point where
Helen Keller would be excited because she would have a new novel to read.
Let's take a moment to explore the different forms of remedies I've tried:
*OCP (Obsessive Compulsive Picking or Popping); This is the one form I have
always used and continue to use daily. Unfortunately it doesn't really work
and once resulted in my 7th grade crush telling me I had ketchup on my
*Clearasil Bar Soap; I don't know if it got rid of the zits but it gave me a
nice rosy rash all over my cheeks which could have easily landed me a
position as a sideshow freak or a clown.
*Skin colored zit concealor; The only thing this resulted in was looking
like I had smeared paste all over and dipped my face in Cornflakes cereal.
*Acne Free (Generic Po-Active); Much like the Clearasil Bar Soap it gave me
a similar reaction, like a very painful chemical peal. On the bright side,
the whole time I was scratching my face off with my fingernails I didn't see
a single zit. Unfortunately looking like a burn victim from a tanning salon
is not how I want to spend the rest of my days.

I wish It was as easy as starting a band and singing about zits...or being
Canadian for that matter. But, it's not. Once again I hold my job
responsible, it's the best form of blame I can come up with. I demand
workers compensation! Or a cookie! Or my very own sweatshop filled with
little kids to make me a Sari complete with a full vale covering the
mountain range forming on my face which will become the newest natural
discovery since Jack Black brought King Kong to New York City.

Wednesday, April 05, 2006


My brain still hurts...I wonder if I can get workers comp if it explodes due to the pain they are inflicting on me this hump day to end all hump days...maybe if I actually got humped it would cure my woes.

Some days

Some days I want to cry...other days I want to stab somebody in the face with a rusty nail...the last 3 days at work have been like that for I want to start a heroin addiction and share a dirty needle with someone. Every minute is like a fingernail scraping itself slowly down a chalkboard.

I won't bore anyone with the evilness that is going on at my place of employment, we'll just say if you see the news and some building went up in flames and a girl with pink hair is a suspect and currently missing...I don't know anything about it.

Anyone own a bazooka I can borrow?

Pray for me that tomorrow will be better...I need a cookie...and a hug...and a butter knife to slit my wrists with...and an antfarm...with real ants...

Saturday, April 01, 2006


Originally uploaded by StoopidGirl.
This is a one of a kind purse by my friend Tina. She makes all sorts of cool purses so check her out at
she rocks...and she's hot.