I have been on MySpace since 2004 and FaceBook since 2005. And now I rule because I have been on Twitter since 2007. Oh yeah, check yourself before you wreck yourself, I am on top of many a trend, before Oprah, before Ashton Kutcher, there was Achixanthem. I have incorporated my Twitter feeds in the handy dandy side bar on this site. I love Twitter! It’s so fast, so easy, so gratifying. For those of you under a rock, here is some info on all that is Twitter.
Yes, I have my face mask, and I will chase all my shots of tequila with hand sanitizer. Enjoy the Mexican holiday that was ruined by some horny farmer who pulled a dirty sanchez on a pig. Ole!
After a long day of work, followed by a trip to the grocery store, I was finally home. Imagine my surprise when a seemingly gracious cockroach offered to help me with my bags. I said no to him, as I unlocked the door, and then he proceeded to enter the main door of my apartment building. I was pissed. I told the little critter to beat it. He refused, and began to ask me questions about my apartment, as in was it clean and how my kitchen was. I went to unlock my door and he scuttled underneath the door with no problem. At that time, I was done being nice. I started screaming “Get out!” while trying to step on him. He continued to run around, complimenting me on how clean my apartment was and asking me what I was making for dinner. With a shoe in one hand, followed by a stomp, the trespasser was dead.
This is one of the reasons I hate Florida. There are more cockroaches here than in New York. They are called “palmetto bugs” here, I am guessing to make it sound less negative, but no, they are still disgusting cockroaches, no matter what you call them. And these little heathens will fly into you, crawl over your feet and ask if you have anything to drink in your home. Lucky for me, I have central a/c, so the critters can’t crawl in through the cracks or anything, just the one under my front door. I’m still deciding if I want to buy my place, because it’s super cheap, but it needs some work. And paint, a new bathtub, a new oven…ugh.
One work colleague is an amazing photographer. Another co-worker does wonderful drawings, and yet another is a painter. My best friend can read tarot cards and sometimes gets messages from the other side, you know, in the Ghost Whisperer/Medium kind of way. So I asked myself, what is my special talent? A long time ago, I thought it was my foreign language skills, and later on I thought I could work with computers. Just a few years ago, I pictured myself as an excellent chef. And now, I don’t know what to do. Drinking does not count as a talent, people. The uncanny ability to attract homeless men or dirty old men is a curse as far as I’m concerned. Being funny? Perhaps. The ability to blog about food, travel and tv at the same time should be considered an art. Meh…
my new purse obsession, courtesy of dailymail.co.uk
Listen, I’ve never been one of those girls who squeal at the sight of some wonderful outfit or fabulous shoes. I’ve been broke most of my life and it’s true that if I die before 3pm tomorrow, I’ll have all the money I need. And I am the last person to give anyone fashion advice. I live in jeans, t-shirts, and flats. But lately, things have changed, and I obsess over purses, and sometimes shoes. I have the most beautiful Chloe Paddington purse, one Coach purse, and one Marc Jacobs purse. I already posted info on the coveted Hermes bag, but now this Loewe ‘Calle’ that Posh glided through the airport with just blew me away. It could be dressed down with jeans or glammed up with a hot pencil skirt. Okay, I cannot believe those words just came out of my head.
I’m glad I got through Valentine’s Day, aka V-Day, without stabbing someone. This is the worst excuse to buy a card ever. Can I feel anymore single than on that day? What the fuck with the smug couples who do all this last minute planning? When I was in a relationship, I had all my plans made a month ahead of time. There was none of this calling restaurants on V-Day, or trying to schedule a massage the day before. It’s unbelievable how lazy and stupid couples are, especially men. I know that many people say every day should be Valentine’s Day. That is not fucking true, otherwise ladies would be getting flowers, chocolate and some sort of jewelry every day. Suck it up and make an effort to make the day special. Or you could be like me: snuggle up with a bottle of wine after a long day at work.
I canceled all my dating website subscriptions. Checking them on a regular basis only wasted my time. The quality of candidates went downhill since I joined the first dating website back in 20–*cough cough*. So now I’m doing the opposite. I’m embracing spinsterhood. I do things like watch The View, contemplate purchasing a purse from a tv commercial that has over 50 pockets, and I’m already using public transportation. All I need is a muumuu, some ill-fitting pantyhose and 16 more cats and I will be an old maid.
courtesy of INFdaily.com
So my evil same-named nemesis was caught looking like a hot mess while shopping a Pier 1 Imports sale last week. Eddy Vedder and Cher called and they want their clothes back.
