ASSAULTI’m a bit of an eater.  Okay, maybe that’s an understatement.  It’s like saying Tiger Woods dabbles in golf, or that Kayne West is only a bit of a douche bag.

This girl loves to eat and doesn’t like anything to stand in the way of her and any sort of dipping sauce.

So when I went to lunch with my friend Scissorhands (not her real name) and her mom, I was there for the company, but I was also there for the food!

I arrived and we began chit chatting and catching up, all the while pretending as if I was interested in our conversation and not the appetizers at the table next to.  (Would it kill them to offer their neighbor a bite of their dip?)

We figured out our orders and the overly perky waitress came back to take down our requests.  My friends are healthy and skinny, but I love them despite these obvious flaws.

They both ordered healthy dishes, and the waitress then turned her attention to me.  I could tell she was rooting for me to order something healthy too.  I could see it in her face.

It’s probably the same look I have when I root for the addict on Intervention to stay away from the back alley heroin deal, knowing full well they will find themselves giving blow jobs in a garage for a couple bucks to score some “h.”

photo credit: Sebastian Mary via photopin cc

photo credit: Sebastian Mary via photopin cc

Much like the heroin junkee, I sucomed to my addiction and ordered a pizza.  I like to think it was a healthy pizza, as it had olive oil, mushrooms and goat cheese on it.

But I suppose calling a pizza healthy is like calling this blog funny.  We all want the statement to be true, but it just isn’t.

The waitress looked at me with disappointment in her eyes. “Would you like a salad with that?” she asked, hopeful I would agree to eat at least one thing that day that wasn’t filled with carbs and trans fat.

Um, no thanks,” I said, glaring at her and wondering why she cared so much about my health.  Obviously I was a woman who knew what she wanted, and I wanted a crispy crust on my fatty pizza.


Plus, I always feel stupid ordering a salad at a restaurant.

I feel like the waiter is thinking “Yeah, like this ONE salad is going to help you lose the 100 pounds you need to drop.  Just give up fatty and get the lasagna.”

The waitress walked away quickly.  I can only assume the get up in her step was because she knew my cholesterol must be high based upon my eating choices, and she wanted to get my order in before I died and she failed to get her tip.

I was on to her game.

I patiently waited for my food,  performing an ocular pat-down of every item that came out of the kitchen.

My stomach was growling and I had a hard time focusing on the conversation over the sound of my stomach eating itself.

Finally, the food arrived.  Well, some of the food.  Apparently the waitress felt like torturing me some more, so she brought out the food my friends ordered, and left me to sit and wait, salivating at the prospect of my food being so close, yet so far away.

I waited for her to say something spiteful, like “Dance, monkey, dance,” but instead she smiled at me and said “Yours takes a little longer and will be out shortly.

Translation:  I’m going to make you wait for your food, as it’s probably the only time today you will have an increase in heart rate.  (She wasn’t wrong.)

After what felt like a lifetime, but was probably only 3 minutes, the waitress brought out my pizza.  I couldn’t tell if it was what I ordered or not because the entire pizza was covered in arugula.  Seriously.  It was covering the entire carb-loaded plate of goodness.

food with lettuceShe looked at me with satisfaction in her eyes, and I swear I saw her flip me off as she walked away.  No wait, that was me who did the flipping off…

Why would this woman douse my pizza in tree leaves?  I didn’t understand it.  I considered asking her for dressing for my impromptu salad, but was afraid she would come back to the table wielding veggies and a fruit cup, so I refrained.

Despite its lack of dressing (and lack of anything fried or flavorful), it wasn’t half bad.  I mean, it wasn’t good enough for me to continue eating it, but it wasn’t horrible either.

Maybe that waitress was onto something with the healthy eating.

I would give that some thought as I rolled through the Dairy Queen drive thru later for dessert.

I pushed the leaves aside and began devouring the pizza goodness.  After a while, the lettuce became so overwhelming that I considered eating it to make more room for the pizza on my plate.

I took a bite of “salad” and figured it would be the best way to spite the waitress, as I was sure she wasn’t expecting me to eat it. In fact, I was confident she had a running bet with the dishwasher in the back as to whether I would touch the leafy greens.  Well she was about to lose her $5 bet to Manuel.

I stabbed some lettuce and shoved it in my mouth before I could reconsider my spiteful eating.

historical TV hottiesOne of my closest friends, Downtown Christy Brown, a.k.a. DTCB, came over the other night to console me on the death of a family member.  She brought over several bags of candy and a gift card for pizza.  We then went out for frozen yogurt and White Castle (in that order).

She’s a really good friend.

Somehow, we stumbled upon a discussion about sexy historical males.  What follows is DTCB’s list of the sexiest historical male characters from movies and TV shows.  Enjoy.

Photo Credit: Nick Briggs/ITV

Photo Credit: Nick Briggs/ITV

9.  Matthew Crawley from Downton Abbey (Dan Stevens)

He’s the full package:  War hero, honorable man who stays with his betrothed despite his love for another, and all around nice guy.

Of course, he’s also dead, so that’s a major drawback.  When I asked DTCB to explain her interest in a dead man, she responded with “Who doesn’t love a good necrophilia joke?”

Well played.

8.  Boo Radley (Robert Duvall)

I didn’t ask her to elaborate, as I was too concerned about the answer and the effect it would have on our friendship.

Maybe she likes the fact that he’s reclusive and mysterious.

Or maybe it’s because he’s pale, as he hasn’t seen the light of day in 25 years.  That will do that to a person.

DTCB is quite pasty, so perhaps she likes someone who makes her look tan.

Or maybe it’s just because his name rhymes with poo.

7.  Mr. Knightley (Jeremey Northam)

As you can see, he fancied the high ruffled collar.  This, plus the fact he was the eternal bachelor, is making me think he fancied more than a ruffled collar.  (Penises. I’m referring penises.)

Perhaps the high ruffled collar was the popped collar by today’s standards.  Either way, he’s a douche no matter the generation.**

**DTCB strongly disagrees with this commentary.  Rather, she advocates he was kind and compassionate with high moral character and excellent judgement.

Obviously this is true, as evidenced by his jealousy and anger when he discovered his best friend fell in love with someone her own age.

Clearly, his anger over a love of two people born in the same decade is completely reasonable and demonstrates excellent judgement.  Duh.

**DTCB strongly disagrees with this commentary as well.  She’s instructed me to move on.

6.  Gollum (Computer Generated Image)

He’s so ugly he’s actually sexy.

She’s also oddly turned on by his raspy voice, which suggests she should court the Marlborogh man, or anyone with throat cancer.

Or by Michael Douglas’s standards, anyone who loves giving oral sex.

She also has an affinity for  jewelry, and so does Gollum, so it’s a match made in Helzberg Heaven.

How precious.

5.  Mr. Darcy (Matthew McFadyen)

DTCB appreciates a man who finds her only “fairly tolerable.”

Back in the day, it was proper to call a man by his formal name, but DTCB has advised she’d like to get to know him on a first name/Fitzwilliam kind of basis.

<wink, wink>

So risque!

I’m beginning to realize DTCB has a fetish for men with proper titles.  I should have caught on to this years earlier when I noticed she called her husband “The Duke of Ganso Court.”

At first, I just thought he loved ducks, and this was an elected position.  Apparently not.

What a quack!

4.  Dr. Huxtable (Bill Cosby)

Is he a literary character?  No.

Does he have any characteristics that would qualify him for this list?  Of course not.

So naturally, she chose him.

I suspect it’s really based upon her love of delightfully tacky sweaters and an obsession with Jell-o and pudding pops.  She does what she thinks is a spot-on impression of his pudding pop commercial.

It’s not something you should see.  It’s not something anyone should see.

She also chose him because, as demonstrated above, she’s a sucker for formal titles.

Plus,” she noted, “he’s probably rich.”

3.  Charles Brandon, a.k. a. The Duke of Suffolk  (Henry Cavill)

Apparently he was an adulterer and killed innocent people for King Henry in the show, The Tudors.

When I presented these horrific deeds to DTCB, she dismissed his behavior by pointing out “But he’s really hot.”

That’s good to know, as Jeffrey Dahmer exhibited these same characteristics…although he was NOT a looker.

Perhaps The Duke will redeem himself as the new Superman.  I’m sure DTCB would think so, as long as he’s shirtless.

2.  Albus Dumbledore

Speaking of how DTCB loves formal names, she felt it would be insulting to this completely fictional character if I didn’t properly refer to him by his full legal name.

You know, the one recognized by a completely fictional governing body (The Ministry of Magic, for those of you who have a social life, and/or are above the age of 10.)

His full name is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

I’m just going to call him ApWul, and sound like I have a lisp.

Apparently, word on the street is ApWul was a gentlemen’s gentleman.  Who would have guessed the guy with long flowing locks and velveteen robes was a fan of dudes?

What can she give as the reason for her infatuation with a man whose balls are older than the Queen of England?

What can I say?  I’m a sucker for a sesquicentennialen.” (That’s 150 years, for those of you who’ve never seen the movie Waiting for Guffman.  I pity you.)

Seriously though, what can you say to that?  One word:  “Ew.”

1.Mr. Rochester (Michael Fassbender)

Apparently a blind guy who keeps his wife tied up in an attic holds special appeal to DTCB.  Whatevs.  I’m not here to judge.

Yes I am.

I feel it’s important to note that she refers to him as “Mr. Rotch,” which interestingly, rhymes with crotch.  This is not a coincidence.

Honorable Mention


Edward Cullen.  DTCB initially suggested he be number 2 on this list, but later retracted her recommendation, as he was not historical.

She then rebutted her own argument by pointing out he is 107 years old, which would make him historical.  Thus, his honorable mention.

Ben Affleck in Armageddon.  When I pointed out that this is (1) not literary fiction and (2) not historical, she responded by saying “I don’t care.  Did you see him in that orange flight suit?”***

After further pondering, she followed up this assertion with “But he’s no Mr. Rochester.”

But then again, no one is.

***DTCB had <———— this poster in her dorm room in college.  I know, because I saw it and experienced its goodness.



What my call history says about me

The National Security Agency (NSA) is apparently collecting phone records from millions of Verizon customers.  This comes as part of a top secret court order issued on April 25, 2013.

As a Verizon customer, I’m not overly concerned about the data collection, as I have nothing to hide, other than a few extra pounds, of course.

Don’t worry, though.  I hide those under flowy shirts and long dresses.  Let’s keepthat top secret.

What I’m more concerned about is what my call data says about me, and what NSA will gleam from my phone records.

So, I decided to take a look at my call history over the last few days to see what kind of data is being collected on me, and what kind of profile would be created based upon such data.

I’m so patriotic.

The results were disturbing, but then again, if you read my blog and/or posts, you already knew that.  Here’s what my investigation revealed.

<Cue ominous music>

Over the last several days, I’ve made a number of calls to food establishments.

This is yet another example of my patriotism.  From calling to obtain hours of operation, to asking if I can use expired coupons from a competing chain, to making reservations under the name “Ivana Humpyu,” the number of calls I’ve made to restaurants is a bit embarrassing.  As a result, I won’t disclose that information.

Side note:  I’m beginning to think my extra pounds and my personal goal to eat the entire contents of a buffet table may be logically related.

Second side note:  Ponderosa does not accept expired coupons from Old Country Buffet.  Who knew?  Apparently Ponderosa did.

In addition to food related calls, I also saw an abundance of calls to my doctor.

Granted, there’s a perfectly good reason for the calls, but it still looked suspicious nonetheless.  And no, it wasn’t for warts.

I got those taken care of last visit.

There were also several calls made to Los Angeles in an effort to locate Ryan Gosling’s agent.  I can no longer contact Ry-Ry personally, as the restraining order specifically prohibits “any contact of any kind.”

So until the restraining order is released (come on 2015!), I will continue to stalkcall his agent for updates on Ry-Ry’s whereabouts.If you ask me, Ryan overreacted when he found me taking a much-needed soak in his tub.  Apparently he’s a shower kind of guy.  Noted.

It’s not a crime to end up at the same place he does, right?  (According to the LAPD, itis a crime if there’s a court order in effect.  Pft!)

That’s as far as I got in my phone record investigation.  At that point I decided I was hungry and needed to order a pizza, follow up with my doctor on that prescription ointment, and then send my love to Ry-Ry.

See?  A totally normal call history.

sucker1They say there’s a sucker born every minute.  I don’t know if that’s true, and I don’t know if that cliche is talking about people or actual suckers.

I hope it’s referring to people and not actual suckers, as I would think  more than one lolly pop a minute would need to be born in order to meet the public’s demand.  (By the public, I mean me.  I love me some suckers.)

<unwraps third sucker of the day>

Speaking of suckers, two amazingly hilarious websites have agreed to allow me to grace their pages with my ridiculousness.  Yeah, they clearly had a moment of weakness.

Granted, it’s probably because I weakened them by reading my blog aloud to them in a British accent; just as my blog is meant to be read.

Regardless of the reason, they responded to my threats request, and agreed to bring me on.

kid looking with binoculorsSuckas!

So please check out these two amazing websites, as both are hi-larious.

The first one is In The Powder Room, which is a page with shorter posts (500 words or less).  I know!  Can you believe I can limit myself to 500 words?  They struck a mean bargain.

My first post is about the interesting aroma in the air in NYC in spring.  Semen.  It’s semen, people.

Yes, I cite a legitimate website and article and this is actually a legitimate thing.  Just read about it.

dog looking at computerThe second site is Humor Outcasts, which is a funny website that has varying articles, columns, small quips, etc.

It’s a great site where you can spend hours reading all different kinds of things.

My first post there is what I think should be on Kim Kardashian’s baby’s registry.  I also coin the name “Baby Karwestian,” which I think is going to go viral.

I mean, come on.  That name is brilliant.

So please check out these posts and support me in my writings there.  I don’t want to get kicked out of The Powder Room and it would just be embarrassing to be outcast from a place with “outcast” in the name.

baby looking at computerNot to be confused with the rapper, OutKast.

So unwrap those suckers and read some of my posts.  And then comment and say how much you love them; unless you hate them.

Then just lie.

Not one unread emailI have an iPhone.  Yeah, I know.  I’m in an elite group.  Me and everyone else.  I’m like a fricking unique snowflake that isn’t unique at all.

However, with my lovely iPhone comes a myriad of issues, mostly caused by me because I’m technologically illiterate.

Seriously, I’m a moron when it comes to anything that has a memory card or is considered “smart.”

I have no idea how to work most things, including my TV.  If it isn’t a TV/VCR combo, I don’t know how to use it.

I’ll just stick to watching my VHS tapes of Romey and Michelle’s High School Reunion, The Office, and Ever After.

Yes, I really have all of those on VHS.  If you want to borrow them, I require a deposit.  Laffy Taffy is acceptable payment.

Since I can’t operate my DVR,  it’s not wonder I’m clueless about my phone.  (On a side note, I also have Clueless on VHS.)

These were the good old days.  You risked breaking a finger, but it didn't tell you there were unread emails.

These were the good old days. You risked breaking a finger, but it didn’t tell you there were unread emails.

I know how to check my email and how to make calls, but that’s about it.  I don’t have Suri on my phone, so I’m completely lost.

No, literally. I get physically lost because the map on the phone is super confusing.  (Don’t tell me to go northeast. I don’t know which way is northeast as I don’t have a fricking good look at the sun. RIGHT OR LEFT, A-HOLE?)

I suspect it may be a good thing that I don’t have Suri, as I think she may be a spoiled rotten little brat who carries purses that cost more than my monthly mortgage payment.

This could be because (1) she’s a materialistic b*tch, or (2) my property value is $hit.

It’s probably both.

What was I talking about again?

Oh, my super glamorous iPhone, that has food randomly stuck in the “home” button.  I think it’s peanut butter.

Sometime in the last few days, my iPhone started saying I have one unread email message.

Um, no I don’t.

No, I fricking don't!

No, I fricking don’t!

I’ve gone to my email online and it says I have no unread messages, so I don’t know why my iPhone insists on being a know-it-all.

Maybe I do have Suri after all.  It’s totally something she would pull.  Her and her $1,000 shoes.

I’ve done everything I can think of to MAKE IT STOP SAYING I HAVE ONE UNREAD EMAIL!

Nothing works.  Nothing.  I’ve turned it off and turned it back on.  I’ve scrolled through to find said unread email.

I’ve also tried bashing it against the wall.  Surprisingly, that didn’t work either.

Author’s note:  When I refer to “unread” emails, I simply mean those I haven’t opened.  Just because I open an email doesn’t mean I’ve read it.  

That would be a ridiculous assumption to make.  I just seriously hate the little red number telling me I have to open an email.  It’s like it’s judging me and telling me to get some work done.  BACK OFF APPLE!

It’s not like the iPhone is a work horse.  He/she shuts down randomly, freezes up, and just acts like a snot frequently.

I guarantee these old geezers know more than I do about technology.  I've named then Gene and Fran.

I guarantee these old geezers know more than I do about technology. I’ve named then Gene and Fran.

I think these are all indicators that Suri is just jacking with me, even though she isn’t on my phone.

Or at least I don’t think she is…<insert paranoid face here>

So I’m going insane about this one red notice that says I have an unread email.  NO I DON’T!

So if I go all Amanda Bynes in the next few days, you’ll know why.  She does have excellent taste in wigs.

Come to think of it, maybe that’s what led to her demise.  Just sayin’…

Christmas EveFor those of you who regularly read this blog, you know my husband frequently says some funny $hit.  You also know that I’m a complete fricking mess and the biggest mystery of all is why my husband stays with me.

That’s a different post for a different day.  I suspect a mental health professional(s) will be needed for that analysis.

Whenever my husband says something particularly inspiring ridiculous funny, I write it down in my phone so I can refer to it later.

Okay, I don’t actually write it down, but I type it into my phone, cursing the iPhone for not knowing what I want to type and cursing my mom for giving me fat fingers.

I suffer through all of this so I can write one of these fabulous posts that you all love so much.  You’re welcome.

So here are more funny things my husband said when he wasn’t trying to be funny.  Yes, all of these are true, and yes, I also can’t believe he wasn’t snatched up before I found him.

The religious type

While driving around looking for a parking spot in a nearly full lot, my husband saw an open spot and went to pull into it.  He then saw the sign stating it was  “Clergy Parking Only.”

Matt:  “Damnit clergy!”

DSC00319Master of Puns

Matt:  “Who was that?”

Lisa:  “Someone wanting us to switch our credit card to a zero interest card for 9 months.”

Matt:  “Did you tell her we had zero interest in that plan? ” (grins sheepishly)

Vegetable lover

After not receiving his pad Thai with vegetables,

Matt: “I don’t need any of those bullshit veggies in my way.”

Financial Planner

Matt:  “I wish we had millions. I’d buy a f*cking wave runner. I’ve always wanted a wave runner.”

DSC00937Timeless Classic

While looking at shrubs for sale at the store, and staring at the shrubbery/bushes.

Matt:  “That’s a big bush. Like 1970s bush.”

Inspirational Coach

Matt:  “Did you ever read that thing I sent you via email?

Lisa:  “No, what was it?”

Matt: “It was uplifting, goddamn it.”

Trend Setter

Matt:  “I had a fanny pack when I was younger. It was cool and I put my Velcro wallet in it.

DSC00463Fun Police

Matt:  “Why is that guy being so loud?

Lisa: “He’s just trying to have fun.”

Matt:  “He’s doing it wrong.”


Lisa:  “I like this bedspread. It’s not masculine but it’s not feminine either.”

Matt:  “Aw, you just described me.”

Friend to Everyone

Matt:  “He’s a nice guy.”

Lisa:  “He defriended me on FB.”

Matt:  “F*ck that guy.”

Sound Machine

Matt:  “I’m just laying here making noises. Why is that creepy?”

Aren’t you inspired?  Me too.  I’m sure there are more, but my fat fingers just couldn’t record the comments fast enough.  That, and I didn’t want to put down my ice cream to type with both  hands.

I just wasn’t willing to make that sacrifice.

Don’t worry, though.  There will be more of these.  There always are.

funny crap my husband says, May 2013