This is going to be extremely random today. More so than normal. For a number of reasons. Here are some: three and a half hour work meeting totally fried my brain until it’s a wizened little chip of a brain; time is extremely short today, because not only was there the three and a half hour work meeting (DID I MENTION IT WAS THREE AND A HALF HOURS WHAT THE HOLY HELL) but then I have to run a bunch of donations over to the homeless children’s shelter, go buy some presents, deal with the White Elephant gift exchange (oh, won’t there be so much merriment! probably minus merriment) and then run over to the theater to meet with someone I’m mentoring. I know. This day is INSANE. Probably in the membrane. I mean, probably. I can’t be 100% sure about the membrane part. Also, my hormones are wreaking hell on me today. Like, they’re kind of screaming Hole songs into my brain and they go to 11 ALL THE TIME. But that’s really neither here nor there, is it? Let’s talk about some random shit before my head explodes, or there is weeping, screaming, or throwing of office supplies, possibly staplers.
Why meetings should never be three and a half hours, even if there is bacon
Once a year, we have a mandatory office-wide meeting. It’s usually not that bad. I mean, it’s long and it’s tedious, but there’s bacon. There’s a whole continental breakfast, it’s nice. But this year, it was three and a half hours long, as mentioned. And the bacon was a little burnt.
Things I did when I realized that nothing that was being discussed in the meeting pertained to the clerical staff so it was a complete and total waste of my time to be in attendance (other than to partake of the bacon):
Snuck my phone out of my purse and texted and tweeted and emailed
Told jokes to the woman next to me until she slapped me really hard on my leg and started crying trying to hold in her laughter
Played with the totally swanky knife the fancy restaurant they had the meeting at gave us until the waiter got nervous and took away my silverware, but no one else’s silverware
Drank four cups of coffee and three cups of water, and then my bladder was the most full, but the doors were closed and locked and when someone else tried to go to the bathroom, they gave him the dirtiest look ever, so I was pretty sure we weren’t allowed bathroom breaks, but I finally decided screw this and just went to the bathroom anyway (and side note, that bathroom was the classiest, yo. I kind of hung out in there for a while soaking up the ambience. It was nicer than my whole APARTMENT)
Got a round of applause, and I’m pretty sure it’s because I’m the most indispensible employee, or I might have been fired, but who knows, I was busy tweeting about how boring the meeting was
Counted all the ceiling tiles (twice) (I’d tell you how many there were but I’ve already forgotten, but it’s a high number, like over 100)
Counted how many times the guy sitting next to me cleared his throat unnecessarily in an hour (14)
How I totally won the internet using rational thought and reasoning
My friend A sent me a link to the best website ever (give or take “best”) the other day, thinking it would be a good blog topic out of sheer ridiculousness. It was from this ministry called Love God’s Way. Love God’s Way had a list of bands that will turn your children gay if they listen to them on their website. They also had a list of bands that were safe. Here, you can click if you want.
Now, I hate religious, anti-gay nutjobs as much as the next person, so of course I read the list. The first thing that hit me was “we strongly recommend that you burn the CDs. Make sure that your child can feel the heat.” OK, that seems awesomely funny. Next. the list.
Here was my immediate problem with the list that made me think that this was probably not a real website.
Show tunes were not on it.
Everyone knows show tunes are the gayest of all gay music. A real nutjob would know this. So my antennae went up.
Other bands included on the list that were totally the most gay (some had strange reasons after them in parentheses):
Toby Keith (cowboy)
George Michael (Texan)
Ted Nugent (loincloth)
and, my favorite:
Texan made me laugh until I almost died (also, George Michael is Texan? What? Or is Texan a gay thing? I am confused), as did loincloth, and questionable for Morrissey was just about the best. But Frank Sinatra will turn your children gay? I’m pretty sure the ghost of Old Blue Eyes would kick your ass twice for even insinuating that. (Oh, also Lady Gaga – she “tricks people into lesbianism” and Metallica is in bold, I guess because SUPER GAY.)
Then there’s a list of safe bands. The top person on that list? Cyndi Lauper. That sealed it.
So I researched this, and found the contact person on the bottom of the gay band website’s Wikipedia, Donnie Davies. Apparently, it was a viral marketing performance piece, and he’s puzzled how anyone could have taken it seriously.
I won the internet. Why? Because of my extensive knowledge of showtunes and that they are gay. Thank you very much, tip your waiters.
Remember Gropey McGurk? It gets worse.
So remember the other day when I was proving I wasn’t a vampire I mentioned that on the news there was that guy that groped the woman at Walmart? Well, last night on the news, they said they think the same man (they’re not sure, but he’s an official suspect) raped a woman in his truck. They think about the groping, I mean. They’re sure about the raping.
So apparently Walmart groping is a gateway behavior to raping and strangling someone in the public airport observatory (that, by the way, I have totally parked in a number of times to eat my sad little lonely lunchtime sandwich and sometimes a plane takes off, and that’s kind of fun.)
I don’t really have much else to say about this because, as mentioned, Courtney Love is screaming in my head today so any observations I have would probably be a bad idea, other than I kind of find it kick-ass that when he was driving her home, she texted her friends, who were waiting for him in the parking lot when he went to drop her off at her car. I hope they groped the hell out of him. With baseball bats. In the nuts. Repeatedly.
I’m doing Christmas shopping wrong but this purse really kicks a million flavors of ass
OK, so as I mentioned, I went Christmas shopping last night. And I got most of it done. Say, 95%. It’s not all GOOD stuff, but whatever, it’s fine. It’ll work. I didn’t plan on winning Christmas this year anyway. Next year I’ll win it again. I can’t be the champion every year, then how will there be a Mighty-Ducks-esque underdog story about me? There won’t, that’s how.
So I went to Target and got a bunch of stuff, and then I went to TJ Maxx. For those of you who don’t have one, it’s an overstock crap store. Like, overstock of other stores goes here to get marked down and die. I love TJ Maxx. You find the most awesome random garbage in there. Also sometimes treasures. But mostly garbage.
So I got some things like notecards and random crappity crap and then I saw THE PURSE and I thought, oh, no no, you are not HERE to shop for YOU but I totally needed a new purse. And it was red (like Fancy’s dress in the Reba song! It’s totally a Jezebel purse, you guys) and big enough for all of my crap and seems well-made and only kind of more than I’ve ever paid for a purse in my life.
Yeah, I totally bought myself a red Jezebel purse. And I put all my purse crap in it last night and am using it today and MAN is that one fine Jezebel purse, let me tell you.
So I might be doing Christmas shopping wrong but I’m looking pretty damn stylish while doing it.
Oh, also I bought myself some Dr. Seuss blank notecards, to add insult to injury. Like, I would have gifted them, but I already BOUGHT blank notecards for someone, she doesn’t need two sets. And I’ll get a lot more enjoyment out of these than anyone else. MINE MINE MINE.
This is why I’m not good at shopping in real life stores. Online it’s a lot less easy to impulse-buy sexy red purses and Dr. Seuss notecards.
Inappropriate things to say to someone when you are checking them out in the Target line
My checkout lady when I was checking out at Target last night was very nice. I had a lot of stuff. Like, a lot, a lot. And she was totally cheery about it, which was nice. Then she kind of sighed, and said, “Sorry, I’m just very tired.” So I said, “I’m sure this time of year is exhausting.” Because I’m not made of stone. I wouldn’t want to be a cashier this time of year. Or any time of year, actually. I worked retail for a while. At a clothing store and an office supply store. Both of which were not my favorite, for different reasons. But checking people out wasn’t all the fun. Especially around the holidays when everyone was all rush-rush-rush. Anyway, the cashier said, “Oh, no, I don’t mind this time of year. It’s not that. I’m having personal issues. A death. A major death in the family. I’m having trouble dealing with that. That’s all.”
I don’t know how to respond when someone I CARE ABOUT says something like this to me, let alone a stranger. Who tells a customer they’re having personal issues? Does that seem oddly oversharey to anyone, or is it just me? I mean, I wasn’t rude about it or anything, she was very nice, I said something like, “I’m sorry for your loss, this is a hard time of year to lose someone,” but it just seems like a lot of info to give out to someone you don’t even know. I don’t even tell the people I DO know some of my personal shit. Am I totally off-base here and it’s just because I’m a weird hermit, or does everyone just overshare and it’s no big deal? I found it strange.
OK. That’s all you get, I am exhausted and Hole has moved onto Martha Wainwright belting out “Bloody Mother Fucking Asshole” so I’m going to get off the interwebs before I hurt myself or others. Happy weekend, minions and minionettes! Kisses and smooches and all that crap!