Think Again

"You know, you should really cancel that Superbowl gig in Dallas now that you have a real job," my mom said over coffee last night.

Me: A real, temporary job. That pays shit, by the way.

Mommy Dearest: No matter. Cancel Dallas before you lose this one.

Me: I'm not going to lose it, they've already given me permission. Sides, if I commit to something I'm doing it, not cancelling anything.

Take a wild guess as to who's unemployed once again?

Employer (this afternoon right before I was due to go home): So... We've told the job agency that we love you, but now that you're here we realize we really have no need for you. The person you're supposed to be assisting won't be here for a month and we can't afford to pay you in the meantime.

Me: Okay. (smiling with hands folded on lap, wishing I was somewhere sipping pinot noir).

Employer: Are you alright?

Me: This is obviously a trick question.

Oh, universe. You better have some epic adventures bathed in glittery chicken blood planned for me because I'm really becoming immune to your cruel shenanigans. Also, can my next real job that only lasts four days be in a vodka factory? Thanks in advance.

Update: I go to my page to check for typos and this is what I see.

The Nightmare After Christmas

Disclaimer: Some people are just not fit for parenting (or pet owning, for that matter).

Remember that party I went to a while back right after the degenerates I gave Jenka to lost her? Remember how distraught I was and how that mom insisted on telling me about her kid's pet gerbil, Fatso? Here's the second horror story by mommy #2 from that party.

Why anyone might think this would make me feel better is beyond me.

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Not long ago, little Jenny wanted nothing more than to be the proud owner of a puppy. As her seventh birthday neared, she took advantage and brought it up with her father one afternoon.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As was expected, Jenny triumphed in her quest and one month later had a loveable shih-tzu which she named Peeko. The dog quickly became Jenny's best friend, usually taking precedence over her dolls and other toys.

The night before Christmas, Jenny sat by the tree eating chocolate from Santa's cookie plate, a forlorn look in her eyes as she waited for the next morning. Soon enough it was time for bed but Jenny intended to break the rules and catch a glimpse of Santa that night.

 

 

 

 

 

 

In her haste to do as she was told and fast forward to morning time, Jenny left the plate of chocolate lying on the floor while Peeko, ever the obedient pet, waited patiently for everyone to go to sleep before devouring the chocolate stash on that lovely ceramic plate.

The next morning, little Jenny found a bounty of dolls and video games under the tree. But that wasn't the only surprise. No no no. There was something even more exciting than all the dolls in the land!

Poor Peeko had one chocolate too many and was granted entrance into doggie heaven which, considering his miserable little life was probably the best thing that could've happened. Jenny's parents quickly ushered her away with one of her Christmas presents.

 

 

The father hastily buried Peeko in the backyard while Jenny's mom distracted her with Mermaid Barbie in the room. That evening, Jenny cried herself to sleep and prayed for Peeko to wake up from his nap.

Time passed and just as children are wont to do, Jenny forgot about Peeko and became consumed in Zhu Zhu Pets and video games. Seven months later the Miami summer was in full effect and her parents decided it was time to splurge on a backyard pool. Construction workers came and went, while Jenny supervised their progress from her favorite lounge chair, a video game in her fat little hands at all times.

One day, as the workers excavated arduosly they found something that caught Jenny's eye.

 

But who can stop a seven-year old rug-rat from getting something that she wants, especially when it's being forbidden by an adult? Jenny grabbed Peeko's skull and bolted into the house, excited to show her parents her newly found treasure.

 

 

Then realization set it...

And once again little Jenny got her way. In fact, she'd never been so enthusiastic to give a presentation in class.

 

 

 

Needless to say, Jenny's teacher wasn't as impressed.

It Was Bound To Happen Sooner Or Later

I am no longer unemployed (clap clap and guzzle these drinks with me):

Here are some things you -my fabulous reader and famosity train rider- should know about my new situation.

1. It is not a permanent position (I'm here for three months and then it's over).
2. The company is an advertising agency.
3. Everyone here is young and trendy, like those New York indie kids that wear skinny jeans and leave their hair long and sport rapist mustaches.
4. The atmosphere is a complete departure from managing a Christian church (and I kind of love it).
5. I think I'll like it here for the time being (plus it's nice knowing my dogs and I won't be camping out under a bridge anytime soon).
6. Writing, blogging, you guys, finding a literary agent and other related activities still hold slot numero uno for me but bills don't pay themselves unfortunately (I wonder why that is?).
7. There's an espresso machine here. That in and of itself makes it a place worthy of working at.
8. In trying to blog, feed dogs, clean poop, work a full time job, and have some sort of social life, I will lose my mind and gain ten wrinkles. When this happens, please note I did it all for you. Yes, for you.

Update: While browsing through some advertisements yesterday at work I found this ad for a gym and couldn't stop laughing. Here's the translation: "What you didn't put into Facebook, put into Gold's Gym."

Tame Weekends... They Actually Happen If You Try Hard Enough.

Did you know riding in a hot air balloon costs $250.00? Those hot air balloon people are a bunch of rapists trying to tear down my dreams of floating in the sky...

And now for a weekend recap.

Friday

• Leave work at six.
• Get ready for dinner at the oh-so-exclusive Chop House.
• Place is beautiful.
• Forget to take pictures as I'm too busy stuffing my face.
• Filet mignon. Dirty martinis. Red Wine. Mashed potatoes. Five pounds gained.
• Friend takes a picture with her camera phone and I steal it for you guys. 

• Realize why the restaurant is called Chop House. A $400.00 bill for dinner surely reminds me of death and being chopped to bits.
• One of the few occasions in which it's good to be a girl.
• End up at Blue Martini (good God I hate that place) for some dancing.
• Run into my friend Cork Penis there.
• He's with five girls and I swear one of them is a transvestite.
• Call it a night early 'round three and off to sleep.

Saturday

• Britt and Didier show up at noon.
• They bring Colombian food with them.
• Among the delicious fare is something I'd never tried before called "Maizitas." Didier pronounces it Machitas, which means little female pig in Spanish. This is exactly how I feel after eating this plate of corn, cheese, chicken, shredded chips and pineapple sauce. 

 

• Head to Knaus Berry Farm to pick strawberries and eat fresh baked goods.
• Sounds pretty gay to me but I've resolved to "try new things" so off we go.
• On the way down south, I mention the word blumpkin.

Britt: What's a blumpkin?

Me: The act of getting a blowjob while you're taking a poop.

Everyone in the car: Ewwwwwwwwwwwww.

Me: I didn't say it was something I'd partake in. It's just hilarious.

Few minutes of silence...

Didier: I think I could get a blumpkin.

Britt: (shoots him a death look). I'm all for trying new things but don't push your luck, buddy.

• Fun fact: Knaus Berry Farm is run by the Amish.
• Fun fact part ii: Britt lied to me. It is not run by the Amish. My friend Migz says they're "German Baptist" (whatever that means).
• Arrive to be greeted by this lovely line of people.

• Twenty minutes later and we're armed with milkshakes, ice cream, and the "best cinnamon buns" in South Florida.
• Totally worth the hype.
• Fun fact: It didn't cost $400.00 

• Fields for picking are in the back.
• Britt runs along like Little Red Riding Hood for her picking materials.
• I envision a little picnic basket but instead she's handed a hideous white paint bucket (way to burst my strawberry picking bubble, Amish people).
• Tomato fields are on the left.

Strawberry fields on the right.

• Britt runs along and looks happier than a dog who stole a hamburger.
• Ryan and I become easily distracted by our surroundings and then sit down in the middle of the fields to make fun of everyone. 

• Everyone seems overjoyed except this one girl who looks like her life depends upon picking all the strawberries.
• "I bet the people who work in the fields picking all this shit don't find this as amusing," says Didier.
• Britt seems amused for the entire party.

• Finally head home.
• Snap this picture of Ryan looking like the cat who got the cream with the infamous buns.

• Rent The Social Network and The Girl Who Played With Fire.
• Manage to watch them both without falling asleep.
• I give them two thumbs up.
• Sleep for twelve hours and then up for family day.

Sunday

• Open the door to guest bedroom to walk Marble Cake (the rescue that is *still* with me and hasn't found a home).
• Greeted by this fabulous disaster.

• Resist the urge to kill him.
• Head on to family day.
• Eat ox tail for the second time this year (I think my father's obsessed or lost his Sunday menu notebook).
• Go home and write this post.
• I'm very sleepy now.
• Maybe I'm getting old.