Thursday, August 23, 2007

my summer vacation

I have been working a lot. A lot a lot. I am drop dead tired and I cannot help but wonder how on earth can I incorporate a life with my job. Impossible. My new little fuck buddy has been texting me for weeks and I continue to promise that we will hook up soon. I am lying. My job is awesome, I am important and have so much fun. This will sound conceited, but I know (I know that my boss knows too) that we are making due with one person in LA because I charm the pants off of our principals and customers. In my opinion, we should lose all of our lines. I cannot possibly do justice to them as one person in LA. I think we are cool because I am smart, get the meetings they want, book shit. It is some sort of fucking miracle.. Honestly, I think I am on the verge of a nervous breakdown. I feel the pressure. I haven't taken off any time since Christmas. I am going home at the end of September for a pseudo vacation. Wanna know what I am doing on my summer vacation? I am having a root canal and four cavities filled. Next, I am seeing the dermatologist. Finally, we will crown my vacation with a biopsy of my cervix. Cancer, ya! I cannot get laid WITH hair...can only imagine how hard it will be without hair and a drip bag of chemo. Good thing I have reserved a bunch of fat over the last couple of months. When I finish chemo, I am going to be all kinds of Kate Moss sorta hot.

I am unhappy and scared.

open letter to the dumbass NAACP head of Atlanta

hey kids, feel free to write this back woods douchebag as I did;

Mr. White,

I find your backing of Michael Vick shameful and your reasoning suspect. In your role as a mouthpiece for the NAACP your words hold power. You are accountable. This man’s actions do nothing to further African Americans or humanity as a whole. Dog fighting is a despicable act perpetrated on defenseless animals, outside the law in secrecy for profit. How can you defend this anti-social behavior? There is no comparison to hunting as those I know who hunt do not torture the animal, bet on the outcome of the hunt, breed animals for hunting (with rape stands!!), train the animal for hunting nor hide their activities (from both the law and the IRS.) Additionally, they do not kill the animals in unspeakable ways if they do not provide an appropriately challenging hunt. Hunters hunt and eat what they catch.

I am so sorry that you will be deprived of the “hours of enjoyment” Vick provides you as a professional athlete. I am sure that there are many brutal and sick people that lament they will be missing out on “hours of dog fighting enjoyment” as well. The blood, the carnage, the crazy way the losing dog “dances” when being shocked and tortured to death, the sound of crushing bones…..good family orientated times!

One would think that you might support more challenged and accomplished people. This guy won the life lottery because he could run and catch. He lives a privileged life which most of us covet. Vick chose to go down a path which is backward and disgusting by most standards. As you stated, “As a society, we should aid in his rehabilitation and welcome a new Michael Vick back into the community without a permanent loss in his career in football.” Part of rehabilitation is hitting the bottom. There are consequences to our actions and losing a multimillion dollar salary and lucrative endorsements seems about right for this one.

Is Vick up for the NAACP Image Award this year? I hope your irresponsible and ignorant position cost you your job as the head of the Atlanta NAACP. I am hopeful as it seems the NAACP is backing away from you and your idiotic position. Outrageous.

Shame on you!

douchebag's email addy is; ''

Get 'em Filthy and Gorgeous Posse!!!

Monday, August 20, 2007

Porn for Chicks

Nuf' said.

San Diego

I am exhausted and I am beginning another hell week of work. I spent the weekend with Boy Gorgeous exploring San Diego. He noted that the two of us, with a pile of cash in the Gas Lamp district is a very dangerous combination. Friday night, we went to the Del Mar racetrack to see one of my favorite bands play, Cake. It was crowded and expensive. We couldn't really see the band let alone hear them. Somewhat disappointing and I dropped $150 bucks. Awoke Saturday morning and went to 8am $2 bloody Mary's were sounding pretty good. We drank a couple of those, then proceeded to bar hop having a beer at each bar. We ended up at a place called the Bitter End. There was some kid there about to ship off to Iraq
(I seriously got emotional, he looked like a BABY) and we decided some shots of Petron were in order. In the meantime, the bartender was a raging BITCH. I made a joke about fist fighting BG after doing a shot and the bartender cut me off. It was a JOKE sister! She then went off on a long diatribe about what the responsibilities of being a professional bartender are and how seriously she takes them. To the Filthy and Gorgeous Posse; in the event I ever start taking myself that seriously, just bitch slap me. You aren't saving lives here lady! Of course, I began to get lippy, told BG that I would be tipping her .99 which was a waste of .99. She was the WORST bartender ever, and she overheard me saying so. We decided to bounce and as I was paying the bill, I felt a tap on my shoulder from security asking if I had a problem with the bill (which I was in the process of signing) and I said no, I had a problem with the bartender. He politely asked us to leave, funny because that was just what we were doing at the time. Dumb bitch cost herself a bit .99. They should call the bar the Bitter Bitch instead of the Bitter End. We began to walk back to where we were staying and the Petron started kicking in for both of us. We decided a nap was in order so we could meet Sexual Chocolate out later. We went back about 6pm and took a nap, waking up at 1:30 in the morning. We accidentally blew SC off for which I sincerely apologize. Sunday morning we went for breakfast when I tallied up the cost of the weekend; $80 dog sitter, $100 bucks train fare, $100 bucks cash gone, $150 bucks spent at Del Mar, $80 bucks at the Bitter Bitch, $400 lost sunglasses and there were some other various expenses along the way. Will have to pace myself on these San Diego weekends, my wallet and most importantly my liver, cannot handle too many of them. My diet starts today as well as my alcohol rehabilitation program.

Thursday, August 16, 2007

I am this girl

If you haven't checked out this show yet, you should...Flight of the Conchords on HBO. Wow, do I identify with this chick. They call it a fly because it takes you up to heaven!!!

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Guy Girl

I love men. Why I am still single is a measure of how well I understand them, not like them. Tonight, I was walking to the grocery store and there were lots of old men (saw Ed McMahon on my flight last night.) Wow. Old guys are really old. It was creepy as there were about five of them all hobbling in my general direction using various apparatus like walkers and canes. I had a flash of the scene from The Hunger when all of Catherine Deneuve's lovers escaped from their coffins and attacked her. I skedaddled as fast as my youthful legs could manage. The beginning of this week I was on a business trip with much younger men. I much prefer the company of a group of men to women. I know that is not very feminist of me, but it is true. There is a lot less bullshit when you are with a group of men. None of the games you find when in a group of women. Lots of ribbing and joking. Nobodies feelings get hurt. I am a "guy girl" which allows me to hang with guys. Initially they are politically correct and a bit skiddish around me but once the guys realize I have a thick skin (and most importantly, a sense of humor) they usually treat me as one of them. I cannot tell you how many bachelor parties and strip clubs I have been to. This is probably why I don't do well in relationships as I know ALL of the tricks. My friends INVENTED the tricks as the Filthy and Gorgeous posse includes many accomplished players. Being the guy girl that I am, I also defy what men expect. I show no emotion. I never cry. I have been called the Ice Princess by more than one boyfriend. I do not respond to tantrums. (You would be surprised how many seemingly adult men throw tantrums.) I cannot be bothered with responding to childish responses, I have said calmly, "you are a big boy. Use your words and stop swearing, yelling and throwing things." It honestly makes them insane that I refuse to engage on this emotionally charged level. I had a boyfriend that crushed the remote control in a hissy fit and I very calmly picked up our Christmas gifts we had just finished exchanging, opened the third story window dropped them watching them land in a blanket of fresh snow. I said something to the effect of, "if you are going to break things, why don't you really make a statement and break things that matter." He never did anything like that again so mission accomplished. The women I do hang out with are all similarly wired. No mushy gush here. The occasional, "I love you maaaaann!" when we are drunk. It is weird as it seems that we are all attracted to the more girly men.....emotional, possessive, demonstrative. It annoys us but I suppose it is the yin yang thing, we need them to balance us out even though they make us crazy. Still, I do enjoy my nights out with the boys; drinking, making lewd jokes, eating meat, blowing each other shit.......

Friday, August 10, 2007

Toxic Mold

Just an afternoon crumb....I don't know why I do these sorts of things to myself but I just looked at The Boy's MySpace page (remember when I searched through 500 pages to find his? Sigh, those were the days!) Evidentially he and his (ahem) "Ex" had a baby! Would have been nine months exactly from when we hooked up. I suppose I should thank him as I did not have a human child, but the Dating Misanthrope was born out of that night. So wherever you are, thanks shithead!

Can I have some Porno with that pie-oh?

I almost had a porno moment last night. I ordered pizza and told the delivery guy to call my cell when he got here. He called and told me he would be here in two minutes. I noted the time and intended to go down to the gate when he said he would be here. I heard him at the gate yelling, "hello! Pizza here!" and went down to collect my pie. He was a pretty hot Hispanic guy, heavily manscaped and very young. He looked a lot like Dave Navarro. Muscles bulging out from under his uniform. I said, " are you always this fast?" and he replied, "only when delivering pizzas. I take my time when I do other things." Our eyes locked and we had a moment. In my head I heard "bum chicka bao bao" playing. I wonder if that is why that kid took that job. Do men really think that the situations in porno could actually come true? Do they come true? I had a boyfriend that watched a lot of porn and I think it ruined actual sex for him as it never lived up to his expectations (by the way, he was a virgin and I popped his cherry. Kind of embarassing to admit you didn't live up to the expectations of a virgin. He looked like Fabio.) I also think that the kind of porn you look at says a lot about you. The Psycho liked REALLY filthy porn, a lot. When I looked at those pictures, they did NOTHING for me; trashy women with really huge boobs invariably shoving something weird into their deep cavernous hole. The pictures sort of grossed me out and thus, The Psycho by association. Don't get me wrong, I am not anti-porn. I find it interesting to see what people find titillating. Most interesting to me are the "stories" used as a venue to show these images. I mean, is that the best they can come up with? Pizza delivery guys, cops and the like? I think more women should get into writing/producing porn. Inside my head, the porn is much more interesting.

Wednesday, August 01, 2007

I am getting a gun

Being the general bitch/heartbreaker that I am I have to say I am greatly concerned by what I just discovered. I was looking for a phone number in the White Pages when I decided to search for myself and see what came up. My name, as clear as day with my home address. I know the Filthy and Gorgeous posse may find this shocking, but I have cut a path through some pretty crazy men in my day and there are some out there that would be more than happy to cut me up into little bits. One of them lives a mere five minute drive from here, is heavily medicated and has a gun. The last time I saw him he was trying to chop off my head with a tree lopper. As a single woman living alone this is frightening to me. Even though I live in a "secure" building I still have to go outside to get in my car, walk my dog, go to work.......In order to make it uber convienant for the psycho stalker, the White Pages directory links you directly to US Search so for ten bucks you can get any and all information on me. And you. I know I am not going to sleep well tonight.

Come sit with me boys!! XOXOXOX Betty