I Blame the Taco

Yesterday was a momentous day. A Superfantasticextravaganza. It was The Jaunty Lookin' Hobo's Birthday!

Happy Birthday! One more time, from your Pi.

Since he is stashed away in a suburb of London, I decided to celebrate for the both of us...

Enter a mexican restaurant.

Enter, the Monster Margarita.

48oz of Frozen Strawberry Glory.

Oh, I did order a few enchiladas, rice, and a taco...all I ate was the taco. Save the rest for lunch tomorrow, I've got drinkin' to do!

I finished the marg in record time. To the bar...

A few tall long islands later...well, lets just say spontaneous projectile vomiting on the sidewalk is an art.

An ART.

A nice passer-by gave my 'handler' a bottle of water, how thoughtful.

And back to the bar!

This morning was less than stellar. The 40 mile drive to work was excruciating.

Every bump irritated the Evil churning in my stomach. So much so that I had to pull over at a rest stop...

I Blame the Taco.

It wasn't delicious enough to entice me to consume its cheesey compadres.

Had I done that, things might have ended differently.

Or the Sidewalk Art would've been more abstract with varying colors...

Tossing up m'guts is a rare occasion**...so I thought I'd SHARE.

Aren't you glad you stopped by today?

**When it does happen, it's always an event, how else did I become the #1 Google result for 'Puke Sprinkler'

Random Sayings & Happenings: Never Say Fat Edition

Most people, decent people, know that there are things you should NEVER, EVER, in a Million Years say to your significant other.


Take what the Curious Canary Hunter, herein referred to as Idiot said/did to his (supposedly) beloved Jilted Love Monkey:

He grabbed her.

But not just anywhere.

In the place where she's gained a little weight in the last few months...the 'love handle' area.

He Grabbed her and said, 'I only see this on unhealthy people...(squeezes and shakes her a little) I don't want you to be an unhealthy person...'

!

The road to hell is paved with good intentions and that is a perrrrfect example why.

Why didn't you just punch her in the face and call her a stupid fat bitch?!

Obviously, someone's in the doghouse. Problem is, he doesn't understand that what he did was INSENSITIVE. (sigh) men.

In other 'Spi Pi & Friends' news the Cute Angry Elf's SO decided to freak her out.

While hanging out into the wee hours of the morn', Blakey decided a random act of pant removal was due.

'I turned my back for a second and he managed to take his pants off! Ugh, you should have seen what he was wearing underneath them...'

Tighties?

'Whatever they were, they were hideous undies.'

To be completely random...(well not completely, The Hobo has been encouraging my brains to think about the strange and unusual =)

What if edible undies were sold in flavors such as Seaweed, and Black Licorice?

I bet there's a reason they don't come in flavors like Shrimp Scampi, Lobster Tail, Oyster, and Anchovie.

That would defeat one of the many purposes of edible undies, now wouldn't it?

Office Banter

Since the weather is finally warming up and staying warm, the Office Banter has taken a turn from 'My kid is graduating High School' and 'My daughter is dating a loser' and 'damnit my kid is coming home from college' to 'I HATE that guy! That guy with the lawn.'

The Perfect Lawn Guy.

There's at least one on every block.

Being the blessed 'Youngun' at the office, I still rent. I do not own a lawn mower. I do not own a rake. I do not own lawn refuse bags.

Lawn and Pi do not mix.

I'd spend all my time trying to figure out the perfect way to do it and if I could make a cool geometric pattern...(ahem) Geek....

So now they're all bitching about Perfect Lawn Guy...'Damnit, NOW I have to start the landscaping...take the wife to Home Depot...get some frickin mulch...'

So I lean back and smile, 'Hmm that's too bad...think I'll go out and get drunk tonight.'

They hate that. They have kids, and kids do stuff. Like golf lessons, dance, softball, baseball, choir, soccer, etcetc. Which means they drive minivans (Gasp, oh the horror!)

I have cats. Cats don't do shit. I feed them, I pet them, end of story.

Speaking of mowing lawns, as I sit here in my cube, my Fortress of Solitude, I look out the window at the perfect day and see a guy riding on a mower, going around in circles...

I'm surrounded by stacks of paper that are deemed 'important.' My eyes are going to fall out of my head from staring at statements all day.

He's riding around in the beautiful weather, wearing jeans and a t-shirt, enjoying the smell of freshly cut grass...

And who has it made again?

Why couldn't I embrace my natural mexican urge to mow lawns instead of college and an office job. . .

Yes, we're laughing at YOU!

Most of the time, when people are out shopping or dining, they rarely notice 'the help,' all of those little retail people that make everything possible...
But sometimes, we are noticed.

Like when we're have a good time at work, everyone's smiley and polite.

And of course, when we're having our worst days, we'll snap at you and be pissy.

Then there are regulars. You know who you are.

You go to the same place for lunch every Tuesday, or even every day. You always make that stop off at Starbucks on the way to work.
Same time, everyday, week after week. We notice. But do you notice us?

If you've been a regular long enough, you may even know us by name and make small talk. We already know your order and start making it the minute you walk in the door.

Then there are those of you that don't know our names, and probably wouldn't even recognize us on the street. (you stupid jerks...)

We have names for you people. Especially The Attractive.

You might be known as 'Sexy Business Man' or 'Tattoo Guy' or even 'Musky Lady'

If we can't find anything obvious to call you, you're known by your order.

The order that NEVER changes. (What's wrong with a little variety people?!)

The other night, while hanging out at the old samich shop, 'Hot Sunday Guy' came in.

I've heard stories about Hot Sunday Guy from the Jilted Love Monkey and the Cute Angry Elf.

As he was placing his order, I couldn't help but laugh at those two.

JLM had to go in the back to make sure her hair was just right...Angry Elf was making eyes at him.

My laughter made the cashier snicker since he gets to see this every week...then the other two start laughing...Hot Sunday Guy glances at me as he walks by...(sly smile)

I called them all dorks. (this picture has nothing to do with the post, but i love it. Ken looks so HAPPY!)

He felt a little self-concious...that was obvious...though he didn't know why we were laughing...or did he!?

Other times the regulars overreact...if you go into a place every night at the same time and order the same thing week after week...we'll ask your name. Please be nice.

The Cute Angry Elf, who is all of 18 and 5'2" had asked a night regular his name, and he looks her and says :

UM, I'm MARRIED (holds up left hand)

Ouch.

Now we laugh at him too. Do pay attention to the little people...and don't forget to tip!

City Kids

While growing up in the great city of Chicago, we came up with some creative ways to entertain ourselves...

When we didn't make the mile long trek to the park, we would ride bikes, play Kick the Can, and Make Me Laugh. (they never made me laugh, i was reining champ!)

Then there were those other games. . .

The ones where I ended up handcuffed to a light pole and screaming my head off for the person with a key cuz my mom wanted me to go home for dinner...(we were hardcore about Cops & Robbers...)

And the ones we made up...like Water Balloon Drive By and Sewer Ball.

Not sure why the sewer was so fascinating...but it was. We'd drop the heaviest rocks we could find just to see if we could make a splash big enough to make it to the street level...(and hit someone in the face!)

One of our favorite things to do in the summer was to go to Dominick's (grocery store) to buy a bunch of junk and waste our quarters in the candy machines...then hang out in the parking lot down the street and binge...healthy, I know!

Later in the day, Reuben would wash his car and there'd be a stream of sudsy water running into the sewer hole that we hung out by... (yes, we hung out by the sewer...)

We had this brilliant idea to catch some ants and put them inside the plastic bubbles from the candy machines and race them down the stream...

We even had a sort of bracket going on...winners were set free.

We were strange city kids...we ate hotdogs sold from a shack made from half a schoolbus on the corner....what do you expect?!

Pictures of my 'hood Portage Park

Dating a Metro?

The Jilted Love Monkey, pictured here, is dating the Curious Canary Hunter.

CCH is a different sort of man. Not quite a Metrosexual, but not a slob...

I think he's borderline Metro.

I could never date a full-blown Metro. Anyway, CCH's case goes like this:

He owns a pair of shoes for every occasion. Those of us women who LOVE shoes might have one for every occasion...but then we wouldn't be able to justify buying more shoes!

He will go through his closet and throw out things he doesn't wear. Now I'm not sure about that, I've seen guys wear hand-me-down t-shirts from their older brothers or even fathers.
These shirts are worn until they are practically see-through and have holes in them.

Then they become work-out shirts! And after that, possibly rags. Efficient, yet hardly stylish.

CCH hates body odor, but who doesn't?! Thing is, he doesn't like the smell of 'manly' soaps like Irish Spring, Lever 2000, or Zest. He hates bar soap. There are lots of bodywash products made with men in mind, typically in dark greens and blues with manly names.

He thinks men that use those are Metros.

So he uses Oil of Olay Body Wash.

He hates hair. As a woman, I can understand that. But many women, including myself, like chest hair. CCH actually has some, yet he trims it. And then shaves the divet at the base of his neck so it doesn't peek out of his shirt.

"He wants that perfect line," says the Love Monkey. He also unconsciously rubs his chest to make sure it's trimmed enough. He does it all the time, it's annoying.

He also is repulsed by his back hair. I've never seen it, but I bet it isn't that bad. He will give himself a half-hug in an attempt to shave as much as possible.

mmm nothing like cuddling up to stubble!

CCH has 2 belts. One black and one brown. (Practical, and no, it isn't just one belt that's reversable.)

'Do you think I should get another black belt? I wear this one all the time.' Love Monkey claims this was said in the manliest way possible. Right.

He's a good guy, don't get me wrong, an odd blend of the manly and metro. What do you think of the Metro?

Could you ever date a man that took just as long to get ready for a date and tried on just as many outfits...sharing a mirror with him while he gels his hair...shudder

Words of Wisdom?

We enjoy listening to The John Tesh Radio Show on the weeknights that I work at the samich shop.

I know, those are forbidden words...'enjoy' and 'John Tesh' in the same sentence...!

Anyway his little 'Intelligence for your Life' spoofs are pretty funny, and occasionally informative.

The other night he thought it'd be a good idea to get in touch with his pet-owning listeners.

'We all love our pets, but there are things that we need to face up to, like when they die.

Here's how to tell if your pet is really dead:

First, can you see it breathing? Breathing is when air is taken into the lungs and the chest expands, can you see it's chest going up and down?

The second was you can tell if they're alive is to hold a mirror up to their nose, if you see it fog up, then they're still alive.

And the last way to tell if your pet is dead is to test its ocular reflex. Take your finger or the eraser side of a pencil and push on its eye...'

!

Are people really that stupid?! Have there been multiple occurences of people burying live animals? If we all follow his advice, there will probably be more incidences of injured or even missing fingers...

If you want to be sure it's really dead, poke it in the eye. Brilliant!

Thank you, John Tesh....oh, and uh, when's that MotherShip coming?

Mature Bar Musings

A bar, a pub, a club, a watering hole...whatever you want to call it, you're there to drink and have a good time...

Usually the conversation is interesting...but not always mature.

Take the conversation I had at the bar Saturday night:

Hey guys, I saw a picture of a guy that looks just like soandso getting teabagged! That was the biggest sac I've ever seen.

Teabagging has kinda gone by the wayside...it's really too bad, it's quite the art-form.

Well, you bigger guys are lucky, when I teabag someone they can still lean back and see the ceiling, when any of you guys do it, they also get the Stinkface.

. . . ::all ponder::

::all nod::

You really are all back-n-crack, aren't you?


Ahhh...good quality conversation.

And the joke of the night:

Why do women have driver's licenses?

?

I dunno. . . . . . . there isn't a highway between the bedroom and the kitchen...

oh snap.

The Odorous Bunch

We've all passed them by, or even met them, and we've all definitely smelled them.

They are members of The Odorous Bunch.

Not as jolly as the Brady Bunch, and they number much more than 8...

There may be one sitting in your office...or even...in your home! GASP


YOU might even be one.

They are the people that bathe in perfume or cologne, it could be they don't have a sense of smell.

Or that they do and they splash it on in an effor to cover their potent natural musk.

Old Ladies make up a large part of this club. They smell foofy and flowery and generally make you want to hurl. Their stench is characterized by the tendency to linger for at least 15 mintues.


Then there're the Rico Suaves of the world. You'll run into them wherever posers hang out. They sport tight shiny shirts and little pony tails. They make women swoon, and not in a good way.


Another prominent member of this prestigious of groups is the Deodorant Hound. Typically older men and if young, skeezy. Their natural male musk is enhanced by some variety of Old Spice or Speed Stick. The result is a cross between rhino piss and a locker room after gym class.

Gross.

These people have only one use as far as I'm concerned.

Their stench can kill insects within a 5 foot radius.

So next time you have that Barbeque, invite Grandma and the skeeze down the street.

Ok, Grandma, I need you to stay right here on the edge of the deck. Tino, (what else would they be named?!) I need you over here...


Tell her she'll be out of the way of the blowing grill smoke and the mis-guided teenagers of the group....and guys like Tino.

Presto! No need for that pesky bug zapper, tiki torches, or citronella candles.

Panty Lies

Many a dispicable thing has been done to get into panties around the world.

Here are a few that I've heard of in the last week:

Hanging out in the parking lot of a club and slashing tires of hot women. When they come out later, he can be their 'Knight in Seedy Armor' and change their tire for them...he claims it works every time.


Claiming his mother died. Enter Pity Sex. Story goes she called him at home and his mother answered...busted!

Now, there's just something sick about that. and Pathetic.


Swiping a kid from a backyard and later claiming he found him/her in the park and becoming 'The Hero that Saved my Child'

Can you say, "Kidnapping," Mr. Pervert?

. . . shocking isn't it?


Apparently Heros make panties melt. (and musicians, no matter how ugly...)

Even if they aren't legit.

Talk about sad.

If you've heard awful things that make the panties drop, do share...

I must be 5

So Easter was a big 'So What' this year.

Food was consumed and family time spent...

I didn't receive one chocolate bunny. Thank God.

BUT I DID receive some Ridiculous Easter Crap.

Crap #1: An ewtsy cutesy little pink beeny baby bunny HURL

Crap #2: An ewtsy cutesy bunny in a hat SPEW

Crap #3: A wind chime? A door hanger? I don't know what the fuck it is, but it's got bells and bunnies and it's ugly. RALPH

Crap #4: An oversized yellow fuzzy chick that waddles around on the floor and plays The Chicken Dance. THE DISGUSTING SICKNESS OF FOOD POISONING (if you've ever had it, you know what i mean)

The Chicken Dance is STRICTLY reserved for making an ass of oneself at a wedding.

Retarded and utterly Ridiculous.

And Annoying.

Even my cats were baffled by the idiocy before them.

Last I checked, I was well over the age of 5...

I think it beats the Christmas gift my stepsister gave me.

Officer Friendly

I know, I been away too long...work's got me all stressed out and busy yadayadayada you don't care just gimme a post...so here it is:

I have a friend that is a cop.

Cops have odd hours: 5 days on, 3 days off, 6 days on, 2 days off. 3pm-11pm

So he's off in time to see some good TV and/or have a few hours at the bar.

Officer Friendly said he usually doesn't get out of bed till 11am-ish then showers, eats and watches crappy daytime TV.

Like Judge Mathis. . .and 'COPS'

. . .

I bet he brings a notepad and thinks to himself. . .'I wonder if I look that bad-ass?' and

'I really like the way he put that guy in his place.'

haHA! prolly more like, 'I'd beat that guy's ass so fast . . .oh wait...there it is! THAT'S my boys!!'

At one point, he turned to me and said, "I think I arrested the lady sitting next to me..."

I'd feel like a total ass.

He said the work environment is pretty tense all the time.

I imagine if I worked with a bunch of people that carried hand-cuffs, mace, nightsticks, and guns, I would too.

He pulled someone over the other night because the muffler on the car was only being held on by duct tape!

wow.

There's nothin it can't do.

Why don't you RAM it up your nose.

This POS Dell had a crappy stick o' RAM.

I thought maybe it partied more than I did over the weekend.

It was wheezing and beeping up a storm yester-morning.

So I'm running slow, down 256.

The Dell Guy came to replace it today.

ANOTHER bad stick.

SIGH.

which means Blogger's Fat Ass is impossible.

So this is all you get.

And Friday is a paid holiday. Eat it, bitches!

ARGH Meetings . . .

It seems blogging has gone to the wayside lately. . .

5 meetings in one day is absolutely ridiculous.

By the time I get back to my desk, I can't even remember what I was working on before the meeting!

When I finally get everything straightened out in my head, guess what?

IT'S TIME FOR ANOTHER MEETING!!

SIGH.

While I waste away in my many meetings, the grass is getting greener, the temp is rising, and there's a clear sunny day out my window.

I'd much rather be watching the cops pull over speeders, the geese that live in the parking lot, and the hawk that stalks around the building. . .

I think my window has had a negative effect on my productivity . . but it sure is nice.


Hopefully I'll be back at it next week . . .

Open House

SIGH.

We're having an Open House tonight for people at The Bank.

I'm staying for the free food & booze.

(Don't talk to me because I won't remember your name anyway.)

Somehow I think combining bankers, booze, and the carpet will either be:

a.) really boring


b.) really funny


c.) hilarious, but no fun tomorrow when I have to clean the puke off the hypnotic carpet


OH believe me, I'm hoping for picture #1, lots of beautiful young professionals drinking wine and martinis, having fun at the office...admitting to crushes and making out in the bathroom.

BUT I know it's going to look more like picture #2, and then picture #3 is going to cause trouble.

Again, I SIGH.

I bet a.) since we're talking about BANKERS here. These people LOVE money.

But they love to SAVE it more than they love to SPEND it.

losers.

I'll be armed with a camera in case anything mildly more interesting than the stock market, golf, or the prime rate comes up.

Beware.

How the hell did I, with a gem of a personality, end up working in an office where the average age is 15 years older than I am?!

hump day...

There's a time and place for everything...like the sex talk...the birds and the bees or whatever you want to call it.

My mother is an RN. When I was a kid, she worked at a hospital.

She saw all kinds of crazy things, including the hamster in the bum thing...

I got the sex talk every year after the age of 5.

And every year, it became a little more graphic...like pictures of STDs....thanks, mom!

The last sex talk she ever gave me was around Christmas of 1999...

My boyfriend-at-the-time was present, as was my father (they'd been divorced 18 months at this point)

Talk about embarrassing.

Although they had good reason: not three weeks before she had caught us naked in her bed. oops. I wrote about that wonderful event here.

Or you could just take your kids to the zoo:

a NICE Funk.

Last night i was being NICE.

COLLECTIVE GASP <:-O

Yes, i was in a nice mood at ye ole sub shoppe.

Customer Satisfaction was at an all-time high.

...for some reason that phrase makes me think of blow-job coupons and vibrators...maybe we could start giving those out as free take-aways in delivery bags...

Now there's a Happy Meal.

I even SMILED at them. (ya fat fucking idiot...)

I almost made myself sick.

'Fresh, Fast, and Friendly'

is one of the signs we have up in the store...

Maybe it was the combined effect of yummy smells and the stupidity caused by excessive consumption of mayonnaise.

Or that ad is true...if so I should be The Happiest Person Alive.

Speaking of food, how bout those mystery meats...

It's HNT!....Speaking of Naked Flesh...

The Jaunty Looking Hobo passed this on to me yesterday:

Hufu: The Healthy Human Flesh Alternative!

Whether it's real or not, there are some...interesting 'facts' about it:

HufuTM was originally conceived of as a product for students of anthropology hungry for the experience of cannibalism but deterred by the legal and logistical obstacles. However, our preliminary market research revealed the existence of a larger segment of the public that was interested in the availability of a legal and healthy human flesh substitute, as well as vegetarians and vegans. We also found that Hufu is a great product for cannibals who want to quit. Hufu is also a great cannibal convenience food -- no more Friday night hunting raids! Stay at home and enjoy the flavorful, convenient human flesh alternative.

THAT is fucking brilliant! Those are some great marketing skills right there!


Vegetarians and Vegans?! I highly doubt that they would be interested in a human flesh alternative. They already find our tasty little animal friends' flesh repulsive, why the hell would they want to eat simulated human flesh?!

So this stuff is supposed to be like human flavored-tofu. I wonder if has the same jiggly properties as tofu and mayonnaise, or my aunt's thighs.

Eew.

Let's just call him 'Humpy'

Happy hUmP dAy!

I enjoyed my 5 glorious days off!

It was fabulous.

I drank.

Then I did absolutely nothing.
(Which is to say, I sat around in my robe and slippers and watched terrible daytime tv and movies.)

Now that I'm back in the office with only the boss to flirt with, I must blog.

And for HuMp DaY I give you this:

Steff also deserves attention for her post on

Twats, Cunts, and Vaginas...

Hahaha I'm being LAZY

While all you poor saps are at work today, I'm at home being wonderfully lazy.

And I'm going to do it again tomorrow.

Time off. For ME.

I spent St. Patty's Day with some crazy cousins of my friend Big Dan.

They had this on their refridgerator:


Crappy quality, I know, here's what it says:

Dear Steve,

Thanks for driving to Denny's because I like potatoes. Enclosed is gas monies. Smelly kitty bit me on the face. I hate him. See you later
Love,
Aaron

P.S. Tell Paul he smells like dead bunnies


Awesome.

The 'Cold Pizza'

Back in the day (wednesday), in college, there was this little thing called The Cold Pizza.

Picture a Frat House. (where ELSE, right?)

Drunk Frat boys. Their poor House Mom.

Hey, Mom, we have pizza up in Chet's room. You wanna come up and have some?

Sure, Biff, I'll be right up.

(Here she comes, be ready, dude!)

House Mom walks in the room...

Hey boys, so where's the pizza? (sees pizza box on Chet's lap...)

She heads over to the box and lifts the top...only to find...

Limp Penis!!

Gotta love that one.


And now something so Unbelievingly Wrong, I just HAD to post it:

i think i've scarred us all for LIFE.

hUmP dAy - QuickPost

Some guys set their sights too high...




...or maybe they like the bigger girls!

Happy HuMp DaY - Celebrate Accordingly!