Large Ass

It has come to my attention that I have a really large ass. We are talking an ass off collosal proportions, here. I guess this comes as no real surprise to those who know me well. But I must say, it often comes as a rude shock to me.

Okay, I am done bitching. As you lovely ladies out there can probably guess, I have been jeans shopping again. Actually, I have been jeans shopping rather consistently for nearly 2 straight months! I AM SO SICK OF SHOPPING FOR JEANS!!!

Always, I have unexpectedly found a new favorite pair ay exactly the right moment that my older favorite pair was falling to shreads around my ankles. This works for me, it really does. I don't like making decisions. For instance, my current favorite pair happened to already be waiting for me in a consignmrnt shop in Santa Monica just off the promenade. I wasn't even looking for jeans! Some girl had tried them on for herself and left them discarded over a rickety old chair in the dressing room.

I guess her ass was just too small for them. (God, I love saying that!)

But those lovely dark wash, low rise, boot cut, well worn, masterpieces of denim artistry have more holes than swiss cheese. Even their patches need patches, for god's sake!

What is an international flight attendant girl to do? Jeans are, undoubtedly, the most important part of my packing regimin. One pair must be perfect for every occasion! They must dress up well, they have to know how to slum with the best of em.

Help me, please! My legs are lonely and cold. It's just too damn cold out for dresses!

Please Visit Engrish.com It is simply to good a site not too.

things that ross doesn't know about ross

I would like to devote this post to things that Ross doesn't know about Ross: Or more correctly, things that Ross doesn't know about his date and/or month of birth, which happens to be February 14th. Yes, he is my funny valentine.

Thing 1: Ross is really rather lucky. Not only is his birthday Valentines day, but more importantly it is both Ferris Wheel Day and National Heart to Heart Day. Screw Valentines Day! Who needs it? Not Ross, that's for sure!

I have to assume that someone somewhere cares about either of these holidays. I, unfortunately, do not.

Thing 2: February is also National Grapefruit Month. Why is it called a grapefruit anyways. It is not a grape, not at all., I am confused. But Ross, he is most certainly a fruit.

Thing 3: Oh, don't you go forgetting National Snack Food Month. No, this would not do. Certainly not!

Thing 4: Oh, let us not forget National Canned Food Month! Where would we be without that. This might go a long way in explaining Ross's obscene addiction to Chef Boyardee food like products. I mean, why else would anyone eat that dog food smelling sodium paste shit. Yes, I see, I see. Hm. Maybe now I can begin to forgive. Or, maybe not. I mean, ahev you smelled that shit? Sardines, these I can forgive. But Chef Boyardee? I think not!

Yes, this post is a product of extreme jet lag. I make no apologies.

Peace out.

e

Leipzig, Germany

Dear Daddy,

I am at a gay bar in leipzig Germany. Yes, daddy, it is a gay bar. And yes, daddy, I am still not gay. A gay bar with email, no less. How cool is technology, right? Did you know that I look good in a studded collar? I really do, daddy! But I am still not gay. I am just going to hell.

I'm okay with that.

I expect that that the music is fab.

And god knows that christian music is horrifyingly bad.

I hope that you are okay with this.

I still love you. I hope you still love me. Even though I am most assuredly going to hell.

e

__________________________________________________
Do You Yahoo!?
Tired of spam? Yahoo! Mail has the best spam protection around
http://mail.yahoo.com

Special people Create Special posters!!!

Special people Create Special Posters!!!

This, of course, is what my 14 year old niece is
learning in student government. Isn’t that special?
And awesomely relevant to day to day life, I’m sure.
I bet that you didn’t know that.

Are you special? Because I am feeling special. That
is, if a murderous rage tempered only by a vague sort
of ennui can be truly considered special. My job is
driving me crazy! And this truly is an accomplishment
as I never even seem to work. My dad, he knows so
much about job insanity, he told me that all jobs are
like this. If this is so, I am ready for retirement.
Call me crazy, but I still believe that your job
should not suck the very life out of you and leave you
an empty, trembling husk of flaky skin and halitosis.

Somebody, find me a job!

According to and oh so effectively made poster that my
niece owns about, what else, effective poster making
for special people and posters or some such silliness:
And based on the fact that we have all already decided
that I more than likely fill the basic requirements
for specialness I think that we should explore the
other tenets of the special poster people making
bible. Whew! That was a mouthful.

Here goes:

Tenet number one: Attract attention.

I can do that. I have BIG BOOBS! They attract
attention. My niece is equal parts horrified and
mesmerized by them. They frighten her.

MOVING ON

Tenet number two: Hold a Viewers interest

This, too I think that the boobs cover. Okay, maybe
not. But I do tend to say insane things to strangers.
And often, they are horrified and oddly mesmerized
waiting to see what sort of debauched blasphemy will
pore out next. And, this, my friends, holds a persons
interest. I am sure of it.

Tenet number three: Create a memory

Hm. I do tend to go to wild parties in foreign
countries and take lots of crazy pictures of my
girlfriends. Aren’t pictures of nights that were
probably better forgotten really just memories for all
the world to see? And besides, if I didn’t put of
those pictures of my friends and I then I would never
have experienced the joys of a conversation with my
dad the highlights of which were his asking me if I
might be gay. Trust me, you haven’t truly bonded with
your daddy until you have sat at a bowling alley diner
and been asked if you are gay.
(the answer is, unfortunately, no in case you too are
wondering)

See! Right now, you and I dear reader, we are creating
a memory.

Memories! CHECK!

Tenet number four: Urge Action of a Viewer

Okay, viewer, I URGE you to FIND ME A NEW JOB. One
that doesn’t regularly leave me curled up in a ball in
a dirty corner eating my own hair and murmuring
unintelligible obscenities at colorful bits of free
form pocket lint.

Okay. I think that I have met all the required tenets
of special poster making people specialness. And I
want you to know, that I don’t’ feel any better. All
of this work none of the glory.

In conclusion, I think that we have proved
conclusively one: that work sucks. Two: posters suck.
And three: I am NOT GAY.

Peace out homies!

__________________________________________________
Do You Yahoo!?
Tired of spam? Yahoo! Mail has the best spam protection around
http://mail.yahoo.com

Black Eye Collage - Just because I can! 

Artistic Shiner Shot 

Shiner - Day 1 

Shiner- Day 2 

Improbable Running Injuries

Okay, I have a serious shiner. My left eye is turning colors I find hard to color coordinate the rest of my outfits around. And it's getting harder and harder to be fashionable these days. Of course, it doesn't help that I can't lift my left arm high enough to change my own shirt without serious pain. Oh and let me tell you about trying to put on a bra. Not so easy one handed, boys. I know that you are all so proud of your ability to take em off that way, but I offer up to you a challenge. Try putting a bra on one handed. Impossible, as far as I can tell.

How, you might ask, do I come to find myself in this sorry state? Well, I know this is hard to believe, but this is a running injury. Yes, running...not cliff diving or mountain climbing. Not sky diving or scuba diving. Running. Who knew physical fitness was so dangerous!

So, Ross and I ran errands today. We hit the grocery store, the laundromat and had lunch. And although my purple eye garnered quite a few stares, I am kind of upset that no one tried to stage an intervention or even ask me about it. You see, I have all kinds of stories to explain it. Like, “My boyfriend hits me. Can you make him stop?” or maybe “ Dude that chick was big and mean but you should see what I did to her face!” But no, no opportunity arose. No one asked. On the bright side, Ross did receive a few nasty glares. But no one offered to beat him up for me.

Maybe next time.

I am, of course, keeping a full day by day pictorial journal of the colors that my left eye is to achieve. I hope you enjoy the pics as much as I do. It's my first black eye!

Ross's response to my injuries, as those who know him might imagine, is to militantly require that I wear a full football helmet on all future runs. He also has decided that it would be best for me to live in a fully Nerf covered dwelling.

But I think that mom said it best when she she said “Erika, honey, you really shouldn't run with your head. It's more an activity that involves feet.”

But if I listened to mom, then how would I be possibly the only person ever to sustain a black eye and knock themselves unconscious as a result of a running injury?

e

I am concussed, I say!

I am concussed, I say!

Yes, it is true. Many are the perils of physical fitness! Especially when you are me or have the grace of me. Which is to say, none. I admit it. I am totally graceless. If I were a super hero I would be 'Destructo the benign!' Benign because I only seem to injure myself in my many adventures and so pose no dangers to the world around me.

For example: Today, while jogging 'Destructo the Benign' managed to remove 2 minutes from her jogging time! She was quick! Not unlike painfully slow moving lightning. But then, with the end in sight Boom! Crash! Slide! Down, Destructo goes. Hard! Like an elephant suddenly and inexplicably without legs. She gallantly lifts herself up and limps on home to the 'Destructo Lair' to nurse her wounds only to realize that she can't exactly see straight and that she has a lump on her left eye brow bone the size of a turtle. And her head, it hurts like hell! She sighs as she puts a bag of magic frozen cranberries on her head and calls her daddy for moral support.

Once again 'Destructo the Benign' has wreaked her own special brand of specialness on the world. She's destroying herself one running injury at a time to teach the world about the perils of physical fitness. She hurts, so you don't have to! Yes, gentle inhabitants of the natural world, it is all for you. And it's all just another day's work for 'Destructo the Benign.'

e

Dear readers, the author is not responsible for any words in this blog entry as she is concussed and has a very bad headache and is not allowed to sleep. And she has a big bump over her left eye and looks pretty damn stupid. Really isn't fair you know...
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Our Love Fern Is Dying

Our Love Fern is Dying

Our love fern is dying! You know, that first house plant that a couple buys together. It really doesn't have to be a fern. In fact, I have no idea what the hell kind of plant our love fern actually is. But I do know that it's supposed to be indestructible. Kind of like Jesus or Twinkies, maybe.

You have one too, don't you? You know, for years you don't even notice that it's there and you have no idea how it survives as neither of you ever admit to watering the fool thing. But after nearly half a decade of taking it totally for granted you wake up one day and realize that you kind of find its presence nice, comforting even, like oatmeal or lawn mower magazines. I mean, if you think about it, it's been with you both from almost the beginning. Longer than your favorite t shirt or episode of Buffy The Vampire Slayer even. (In case you were wondering, mine is that god awful musical episode from season six. What can I say, I'm a sucker for a bad musical.) And one day you wake up and finally realize it for what it is; a marker of something vital and lovely in your life history. It's a visual reminder of a wonderful place in your relationship when it was new and squeaky clean. You remember, you used to actually get taken on dates then. And sometimes he even helped with the dishes. And right then you vow to take better care of it. Or at least to try and remember to water it once and a while.

And that, my friends, is exactly the moment that the damn thing starts to droop. And then it starts to turn yellow. And then, when most of it's leaves have finally finished turning that sickly, mushy looking shade of yellow, you know, the one that really doesn't look good with anyone's complexion, and most certainly doesn't go with your kitchen décor, that's when it's leaves start to turn brown and get all crusty. Now, admittedly, the brown crusty is an improvement in color and texture but you do realize that it doesn't really bode well for the health of your love fern. And somewhere in the midst of all this icky transformation you started to notice a weird whitish colored film spreading across the top of its soil.

And the more you try to care for it the worse it gets. And then you get pissed. And then you throw the damn thing away and replace it with a look alike all the while hoping Ross won't realize it but somehow hoping that he does. I mean, really, it is your love fern and all. You want him to bestow on it the same affection and care that you do, or did. But let's be real. Mostly you'd rather just get way with the switch. But just when you think that you've succeeded you look over at Ross only to see him eying the 'impostor' closely. And then he looks over at you and says, “That's not our love fern. What happened to our love fern? Did it die?” And your only response is “Aliens. It must have been aliens.”

Disclaimer:

All love ferns, disposal of love ferns, and Ross's appearing within these words are works of fiction and products of the author's imagination. They are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, persons or ferns, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Sincerely,

The Management

Long Live Love!

Sample Conversations

You all remember Ross, right? Boyfriend
extraordinaire, rescuer of imprisoned dogs, runner of
mountains etc. he has all kinds of lovely qualities.
But you're not really interested in those, are you?
Me neither.

To be plain, I like odd men. And Ross is nothing if
not odd. Please enjoy this reinactment of a
conversation we had this afternoon:

Ross: Get Up!
Me: No! I'm sick.
R: Well at least get off me!
M: No! I'm sick.
R: Do something, already!
M: I just did, see? I rolled over.
R: Yeah, cause you're getting bed sores!
M: Nuh, uh. I'm hungry.
R: Okay, how about you play piano while I put
everything in the living room in a box. Then you can
go through it.
E: Um...??

____________________________________________________________________________________
Do you Yahoo!?
Everyone is raving about the all-new Yahoo! Mail beta.
http://new.mail.yahoo.com

How To Cook A Squirrel

For a New Yorker vegetarian (more or less) I must
admit that I have a truly weird and wonderful fixation
with squirrel recipes. It's inexplicable, really.
If you, too are plagued with inexplicable weirdness
visit http://www.scarysquirrel.org/recipes/

Bon Apetit!
e

Squirrel Puree - anonymous

(great for ol' timers with no teeth)
Take a blender and a squirrel
Put squirrel in blend
Switch blender on
Blend until smoth
Serve and enjoy

Come to Jesus Organic Squirrel - anonymous

Shoot the squirrel that's been climbing on your bird
feeder. Feel slightly bad. Skin and remove innards.
Snap off squirrel hands-n-feet and keep them for key
chains, good luck charms, or run them down the
disposal. Keep disposal running... eventually they go
down. Clean, and soak squirrel in 6 dollar a gallon
organic milk overnight. Rinse, quarter, flash fry with
shallots and garlic. Season with rosemary and salt
place in oven at 350 for 35 minutes. Eat. Feel
connected to the cycle of life.

"Eat more squirrel." TS Elliot

Skwerl Avec Toothpaste - anonymous

1 skwerl (live if possible)
1 bottle orange soda
3 tablespoons peanut butter
1 coconut (whole)
1lb noodles (any)(uncooked)
toothpaste as garnish
TT cinnamon, lifesavers, pepperoni, and anchovies

add all ingredients together in stock pot, bring to
boil and keep boiling... serve in cardboard boxes and
eat on the bathroom floor along with the people who
live in your neighbors basement. enjoy!!

Slow Baked Mastadon Skwerl - Mr. Hammeroni

For this one, you will need a VERY large skwerl. At
least two or three hundred pounds or so.

Get in your time machine. Set the little digital
thingy for six million years BC. Trap one bushy-tail
sabertooth- muscle bound mastadon skwerl. Avoid
getting eaten by the skwerl.

Bring the skwerl back to the good old twenty-first
century, or maybe it will bring you.. Dig a
fifteen-foot hole. Add in order:

- Two cords of wood
- Five gallons of kerosene.
- Light the wood.
- Partially cover the fire with ten or twenty large
rocks, to absorb the heat and slowly cook the monster.
- Soak the beast in five gallons of barbecue sauce,
one cup of cayenne pepper, and a half a pound of salt.
Salt is optional. Wrap in ten layers of banana leaves.
- Place prepared skwerl on the now hot rocks, and
cover the hole with as many other large rocks as you
can find.
- Dig it up in about a week, it should be nice and
tender..

World Salvation Skwerl - anonymous

Catch as many squirrels as possible... how you do
this. peanut butter in a microwave. wen they enter the
microwave start to microwave the squirrel. put it on
for at least 7 minutes 30 seconds. by this time the
squirrle should have no fur and his skin should be
bubbling. this is only the warning. if you put it on
for another minute or so you can blow it up and you
got instant chinese food as well as saveing the world.

__________________________________________________________________________________________
Sponsored Link

Talk more and pay less. Vonage can save you up to $300 a year on your phone bill.
Sign up now. http://www.vonage.com/startsavingnow/

Istanbul not constantinople

Okay; why is it that I can not stay awake in Istanbul?
I really just don't get it. I am positively itching to get a chance to explore that amazing city, but invariably I am suddenly comatose as soon as I get to the hotel. I am truly ashamed. I am currently stuck in a different little Turkish town and I am wide awake. But as it is a cess pool I will stay inside.

I am mourning a wasted opportunity.

And now; I leave you with a song...

e

Istanbul was Constantinople
Now it's Istanbul, not Constantinople
Been a long time gone, Constantinople
Now it's Turkish delight on a moonlit night

Every gal in Constantinople
Lives in Istanbul, not Constantinople
So if you've a date in Constantinople
She'll be waiting in Istanbul

Even old New York was once New Amsterdam
Why they changed it I can't say
People just liked it better that way

So take me back to Constantinople
No, you can't go back to Constantinople
Been a long time gone, Constantinople
Why did Constantinople get the works
That's nobody's business but the Turks

Howl....O - Ween

There are few places as frightening as the library on
Halloween. Lot's of little lion kings and princesses,
plastic clowns and home made cookie monsters. All
hopped up on candy and good times all under the age of
5 and brimming with cuteness.

So far little Cinderella approached me at the computer
finger stuck up her little nose to the knuckle to
inquire, rather loftily I might add as would befit a
princess, as to what I am doing and if she could be of
service. And little Harry potter keeps peering over at
me and bursting into tears before running away only to
begin the entire process again. Oh, and tiny Pat
Metheny, yes, Ross, I think the child was attempting
to be Pat Metheny or possibly the Hamburglar (it's
truly hard to tell the difference, honestly, you try
it!) almost tripped me on the stone steps. To be fair
that was when I really knew, in my heart of hearts,
that this whole library Halloween excursion was just a
plain old bad idea. But hind sight, as they say,
really is 20 20. So in I went. And here I am.

SURROUNDED.

SAVE ME.

e

In the words of Zoolander's great Mugatu "I think I'm
taking crazy pills!"

__________________________________________________________________________________________
Check out the New Yahoo! Mail - Fire up a more powerful email and get things done faster.
(http://advision.webevents.yahoo.com/mailbeta)

Zim's Crack Creme 

I love seattle 

Lovely Leipzig Mural 

Flight Attendants just do it better...

Flight Attendants just do it better than marines. We are, of course, talking about handling our liquor on airplanes, that is. Now, don't get me wrong, I love my marines! I LOVE bringing them home. But when certain East German layover city airports decide that they should open their arms and their airport bars to our boys, maybe they should consider not serve them Absinthe! Yes, my lovely marines, who have not seen a drop of alcohol in 6 months toasted beyond all belief on ABSINTHE on an airplane for many many hours. Imagine, if you will, an airplane filled with 350 or so marines that have seen neither a drop of alcohol or a civilian american woman in 6 months. Suddenly there are both. You can imagine. Let's just say, not pretty.

How will I ever get that smell of of my shoes?

e