Mother of...the swimsuit website I ordered that pretty suit from said they ran out of my size RIGHT when I was ordering it.

Anybody need some boobs? Mine are conspiring to keep me away from any and all bodies of water at the moment.

Okay, I did it. I got my first bathing suit (or bathing suit top, actually) in years and years and years. It looks like this.

http://www.lindasonline.com/freya-bamboo-island-underwire-sweetheart-padded-bikini-top-9462-storm.html

I had better make damned sure every hotel I stay in from here on to the year 2050 has a pool for that price.

I have adorable animal tales tonight.

We were all out eating hot dogs on the patio yesterday (Lisa, my dad, her friend, and I), when we saw a little brown bird suddenly come down and perch on the railing next to us, and then fly into the house. I got up to try and get him out, and got to him just in time to see him fly out with a piece of hot dog bun. ...that he had gotten from the counter. As the night wore on, he kept on coming back to either steal pieces of bun from our plates or find his way inside again to steal even more food. Eventually, it got dark, and he went off to sleep.

This morning, I left the house to go to work at butt crack o'clock, and as soon as I closed the door behind me, the same little brown bird flew up to me, flew up to the roof, flew back to me, and started chirping at me like, "Hey! Hey! HEY!! Got anymore, uh, buns? Anymore food, there?"

I came back home 5 hours later. The SECOND I started going up the stairs, I heard the same chirp, and the bird flew out of nowhere onto the railing in front of me. ...he had been waiting for me. I went inside, and I heard his shrill little chirping for HOURS while I tried (unsuccessfully) to nap.

I think I have a new little friend. What's a good name for a fearless moocher who doesn't know his boundaries and fixates on young women?

I'm sure of that. Why else would Woody come into my room just to belch at me and walk out?

Then there's Artie. That little bastard lies in wait until I have a full, hot beverage in my hands and grabs my butt.

My pets don't just have a sense of humor, they are also abusive. And both are 50 year old men.

Upon waking up this morning, I moved my neck in such a way that I heard a "crunch!" and SUDDENLY I AM UNABLE TO MOVE IT. OW. CHRIST ON A BIKE. OW.

And there is a guy upstairs hammering. It sounds like he is particularly angry at these nails, as the entire house is rattling. Now I cannot go upstairs to get coffee and aleve without having to make awkward smalltalk with him. JUST END IT NOW, OH LORD. JUST GIVE ME DEMEROL, OXYCONTIN, AND FLINTSTONES CHEWABLE MORPHINE.

Oh! And before I go off to bed, I probabl;y mentioned at one point that there is a weirdo customer I have who sounds exactly like Dr. Steve Brule. ...he LIKES me. He is also completely bizarre. Today, I got this from him:

"You look like...like Gwenyth...Gwen...Gwynith Paltr--uh, Gwin? ...You look like Uma Thurmon! Ya like Kill Bill?"

I'll leave you with that. As a moment of Zen.

Marina and I had a wine and cheese party in Whole Foods yesterday. Like...an intense one. We bought about 70 bucks worth of sheep and goat cheese between us, some coconuts, and liver pate and split a bottle of rielsling. THAT is how we party. Then I stumbled home (wasn't exactly due to drunkeness, I just have no equilibrium), remembered I had a coconut, and drank that sheeyit.

Marin County, you blow. You blow so hard. They are dancing in the streets to Thriller in NYC right now. And what's happening in you? ...I am attempting a poor moon-walk to Billie Jean ALL BY MYSELF. And it isn't going well. I've stubbed my toes twice.

I enable it.

Nothing, but NOTHING can touch Thriller. But I have to say, I loved Black or White so, so much as a little 10 year old. Wait...it was 91, right? Yeah. Uh, I have to go dance around like an idiot to that now.

*grabs crotch*

Thanks for taking livejournal with you, MJ...

Pssst. If you'd like to get The State DVD for a little cheaper than (supposed?) retail, before it officially arrives in stores, and with a free t shirt...go order from here: https://www.thestateondvd.com/

I'm dizzy and stuffy-headed for some reason today. WHY? Not all that dizzy, just enough for it to be annoying. FIX IT.

Maybe wearing my shutter shades will help.

Wow. Oddly enough, that does help.

Oh oh oh oh oh, I haven't told you guys yet, I'm going to New Orleans for SIGGRAPH! New Orleans!! YYYEEAH!

I plan to constantly eat. ...wait, I do that anyway. Well, I plan to eat EVEN WHILE I'M EATING. How will I accomplish such a feat? I don't know. Let's find out together.

If I only had a noose and a Thai hooker...(too soon?)

Guy I rung up already: *cuts in front of 15 other people* Excuse me. I wanted a decaf coffee in the cup I brought. Not the cappuccino. That was supposed to be in a to go cup.
Me: *turns to him, and knowing full well he didn't order a decaf, I decide to go extra slow* Oh? ...You ordered a decaf?
Him: YES. Here.
Me: I see. And you want it in here.
Him: DECAF IN THERE.
Me: Well, let me just go over here and get that for you.
Him: Do you not want me to help you out, here?
Me: *to coworker* I NEED TO BE DRUNK AT THIS TIME.
Guy: *gives me a confused look and takes his coffee*

I won't go into detail about the bazillion other customers who were JUST. LIKE. THIS today (for I will start having bad flashbacks and sit in the corner all night while rocking back and forth and mumbling, "Anything else I can get you today?" over and over), but I will say this:

You, the idiot parent who stands there and asks your five year old what it wants from the pastry case. You, who hold up the entire line while you attempt to help by asking the kid, "You want a muffin?" and actually listen when it replies with "NNNNO! I want a cookie!". You, who stands idly by as your child looks up to me and yells, "I WANT THE PINK ONE!". YOU. ARE. FUCKING. UP. SOCIETY. YOU are the reason that awful, grabby little children who always get their way grow up to be awful, grabby adults who think that food service people are put on this planet for their whim.

And if you do not grow some hairy fucking balls and say, "NO, you're getting a god damned muffin", I will most likely be the one who snaps one day and picks that child of yours off from the top of a bell tower.

All the while screaming "ANYTHING ELSE I CAN GET YOU TODAY?"

Fuck all y'all! I needs a pie!

I AM FRANKLIN SHERMAN.

Fuck...I think I ate something in the realm of five hamburgers last night. Time to balance that out with some tacos.

This woman came in yesterday to get some coffee beans. She told me what kind, and I stamped the bag with the appropriate coffee name. She went to take the bag after it was filled up and smudged the ink.

Her: Why do you stamp that without putting any tape over it afterward?! Look at this, now it's smudged!
Me: I find the tape smudges it worse.
Her: This is the second time you people have done that. How am I supposed to know what kind of coffee I have now? Re-write this!

Lady, I drink myself stupid every night to rid myself of the memories of customers like you, and I STILL manage to remember what kind of fucking coffee I have paid for. Perhaps you should stamp "Uppity Bitch" on your forehead and put tape over it to help you through your bout of amnesia.

01. Anyone who looks at this entry has to post this meme and their current wallpaper at their livejournal.
02. Explain in five sentences why you're using that wallpaper.
03. Don't change your wallpaper before doing this. The point is to see what you had on.



This is my current wallpaper because it is a SIGN THAT FUCKING SAYS "GLORY HOLE". Glory Hole is a real place in Sonora. I snapped the picture when I went a month ago. Is this five sentences yet? Great.

Douchey Decaf Guy (DDG) came in again today. And we ran out of decaf on him again today. And he threw another little hissy fit.

We were fine on decaf when I checked five minutes before his arrival. That means only one thing...I WILLED it to happen. I cursed him to forever have the decaf coffee run out on him wherever he goes.

The lesson here is simple: Do not anger a disciple of The Coffee Gods (although you're already angering The Coffee Gods by drinking that mangled swill in the first place).

OH! And then another customer came in, and he's a regular but I don't ever remember his name because: a.) he always comes in during a rush, and I'm not gonna remember a bitch's name during a rush; b.) I already make it a point to kill my memory with beer all day and night; c.) I get, what, five billion people in a day? and d.) I don't remember people who aren't especially nice to me and have plain faces that blend into a crowd anyway. Anyhow, he came in twice today and was so pissed that I asked him his name both times that he turned to the guy he was with and said, "Can you believe this? I'm a regular, always order the same thing, and she asks my name. Every time."

What am I, a computer? Does your tiny dick shrivel up just a little bit more each time I forget your name? Shut up and go suck your grandma's ass, Boring-Face. You wanna go where everybody knows your name? Go get your coffee from the "massage parlor" on Fourth street from now on. And consider yourself lucky that Customer Service Me and Drunk Me don't ever collide, because your ass would be PUNCHED by now.