Archive for July, 2005

Published by PaintingChef on 29 Jul 2005

Further evidence that I will never be allowed to serve in any sort of leadership role in this city.

Apparently, Augusta, GA has adopted a new city slogan. “Augusta – We Feel Good.” No shit. This is the most asinine thing I’ve ever heard. So I’m going to help a city out and suggest a few alternatives that I think better suit this fine place I call me home.

1. Augusta – We feel alright except when its hot as balls outside and we look like a ghost town because everybody is inside hiding from the ball of fire that has overtaken our fair city.

2. Augusta – Nobody knows this skanky place exists except for one week out of the year when we hire a bunch of people to make us look good so rich people can come and play golf.

3. Augusta – We import strippers and Hooters girls for the Masters.

4. Augusta – The armpit of the south for over 100 years.

5. Augusta – Where people drive like fucking idiots, especially the old ones.

6. Augusta – Randomly refusing to fill your birth control prescription since 2004.

7. Augusta – Eh…if you have to.

8. Augusta – Turn signals optional.

9. Augusta – No ugly hat is too big.

10. Augusta – Making it as difficult as possible to get from point A to point B.

11. Augusta – Shitty shopping unless you are a 50 year old Baptist preacher’s wife.

12. Augusta – Businesses randomly closed on Sundays.

13. Augusta – The only city that proudly hosts the snootiest golf tournament ever mere months before the Southern National Dragboat Competition aka NASCAR on the Savannah River.

14. Augusta – Second largest metropolitan area in Georgia (but we count people in South Carolina too so we can make that claim.)

15. Augusta – You want rednecks who think they have class? We’ve got you covered.

16. Augusta – Where women won’t have sex during the fall for fear of being pregnant during the summer.

17. Augusta – Convenient to nothing. Close to nowhere.

18. Augusta – Now with more road construction!

19. Augusta – Proud home to the second best school system in Georgia, the state ranking the second worst in education.

20. Augusta – What the FUCK is that smell?

I mean, I don’t know about you but I think a city’s slogan should reflect something unique about it. Seriously represent its best qualities. What do you think?

Published by PaintingChef on 28 Jul 2005

Thursday Afternoon

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Oh my GOD it is the day that will not end.

But when it does I’ll have to drive in THIS SHIT so am I really all that eager?

Published by PaintingChef on 28 Jul 2005

I think I might have told my husband that Martha Stewart would make him her bitch.

Patrick: “Oh GROSS! You just flung water from the kitchen scrub brush on me, that is REALLY disgusting. That thing is filthy”

Me: “Oh shut up, no its not. I rinse it every time I use it, PLUS its like brand new. Don’t be a bitch”

P: “Did you just call me a bitch?”

M: “I did. Plus you’re an asshole for insulting my housekeeping skills. I see how it is…I’m just a shitty housekeeper and everything is filthy and my GOD how can you live in this pigsty. Maybe you should just go and find yourself another wife. One who CLEANS.”

P: “Yeah. THAT’S what I was getting at. Whatever. I would have thought it was gross even if it had been Martha Stewart’s scrub brush. This is in NO WAY related to your housekeeping skills. Don’t be such a fucking drama queen.”

M: “Dude, Martha’s been in prison. I bet her shit is spotless. And if you told her it was nasty, she’d probably make you her bitch six ways from Sunday.”

P: “So what you’re telling me is this is a no-win situation for me.”

M: “Yeah, pretty much. Did you call me a drama queen?”

Published by PaintingChef on 27 Jul 2005

Results with the cherry flavor may differ…

I FUCKING HATE TO OVERSLEEP! Well…that’s not entirely accurate. On the weekends I make it my mission in life to oversleep. Don’t bug my ass before 9 am. (Which is, by the way, an ENORMOUS improvement…it used to me don’t bug my ass before noon).

But through the week, when the productiveness of my entire DAY depends on whether or not I can get my lazy ass out of bed in the morning with enough time to avoid being forced to make that difficult shave my legs or wash my hair decision in the shower, oversleeping can really throw a wrench in things. My normal day is up around 6:45 or so and I aim for out the door by 7:30 so that I’ll have a prayer of making my actual out the door time of 7:40. But on a day like today…when I don’t wake UP until sevenfuckingforty, things…they get a little rushed.

Still, I was out the door in 11 minutes flat. ELEVEN MINUTES. This is the girl who normally manages to kill 10 minutes between being ready to leave and actually getting in her car (where DO those 10 minutes go…does anyone know??) And I went from jumping out of the bed in a panic at 7:40 to backing out of my driveway at 7:51. I am a champion. I did learn that the traffic when you leave at 7:51 is made up entirely of people doing the same thing I was…hauling their oversleeping running late asses to work so they can make it there inside of the universally recognized 5 minute window. We aren’t the pulling into Chick-Fil-A for a biscuit and a coffee bunch, we have got a MISSION. Yellow lights? What the fuck, I’ve got to GET SOMEWHERE and if you are going to stop for a yellow light then I reserve the right to scare the piss out of you as I swerve around you like it was my job.

But you want to hear the REALLY crazy shit about this whole thing…I was only like 6 minutes late for work Therefore, I hypothesize that since I was only one minute outside of the 5 minute grace window, I overslept by ONE hour and was only one minute late for work.

So in honor of this fabulous experience…I bring you the lesson of the day:

When its midnight thirty and you are coughing and hacking up a lung like a champ and you are shaking the bed and making your poor sweet husband miserable, not to mention in great pain because the coughs, the coughs, they are killing the poor throat, no matter HOW much it hurts…taking a double swig on NyQuil is NOT going to be the smartest thing you’ve ever done. Okay, yes, in just under 30 seconds you are going to be flat on your back and if you ARE coughing dammit, you won’t know because you are fucking comatose but you are NOT going to be moving from that position for a bit of time.

I have a theory about NyQuil…I don’t think it actually CURES anything. I think you take it and still feel shitty and you are still coughing like a Marlboro Woman. You are just temporarily dead and don’t realize it. You know that shit that Juliet drank to fake her death so she didn’t have to marry Paris…fuckin’ NyQuil. You KNOW it was.

Published by PaintingChef on 26 Jul 2005

Life in “Never-Never-Had-A-Job-Or-A-Bad-Hair-Day-Land”

So. I’m watching this Laguna Beach show on MTV. And I’m laughing and making fun of them as I’m watching but I’m so hooked. Of course I’d just finished having the following conversation with Patrick when I realized I was hooked on Laguna Beach:

Patrick: Wait, you mean the Real World is STILL on MTV? Where are they now, Strawberry Plains, Tennessee?

Me: Yes it is still going on and apparently they are in Austin, Texas. But I haven’t watched the last couple of seasons.

P: YOU? You the Real World junkie who OWNS “The Real World You Never Saw” from like 5 seasons?

M: Yes, me. I think it’s a sign that I’m growing up. I used to look up to them because they were older and cool and then I liked them because they were the same age as me and helped me realize that I’m so less action-packed with issues than I thought I was but now they just all seem like these immature media whores.

P: You say this as you sit here and watch a marathon of a reality show about high schoolers in Laguna Beach.

M: Shut up or I’ll spit in your dinner.

So anyway…this show is KILLING me. This one little chippy has a PERSONAL HAIRDRESSER. As in someone comes to her house and does her hair before she leaves the house. Of course if my hair was as fake as hers, I’d be afraid to touch it myself too, that shit might melt or something.

And they all drive these crazy expensive cars. Little Mercedes and BMW sports cars. Is it NOT true that you wreck your first car? Pretty much everyone will wreck their first car. I did. Most of my friends did. Because teenagers can’t drive. They just can’t. And I’m sorry but regardless of whether or not you could buy Rhode Island or not, do you REALLY want a child to have a $100,000 learning experience? First cars need to be that shit that when you DO wreck it (because you will) and when it IS your fault (because it will be) you can get out of there alive.

Only one of these kids that I’ve seen actually has a “job” and even that one is a joke. But they are shopping and shopping and shopping like 24-7. All the time with the shopping. And the $700 shoes. (U-G-L-Y $700 shoes. I can justify a pair of Campari Manolo Mary Janes without a second thought but these triggered my vomit reflex.)

Sure, I remember girls being vicious in high school. But I really don’t remember them being as bad as these bitchy bitches are. DAMN they are mean. And they are all so so thin and have I ever seen any of them go to the gym or anything? Oh hell no. Hate, hate, hate!!! Oh, and were high school boys that rude to us? Did we actually put UP WITH THAT SHIT?!?! Surely not. But the BOYS! With the lying and the cheating and the being so rude.

Still, I am hooked. And I watched for hours yesterday. But then a terrifying thought came over me and again, I felt old because without a doubt 10 years ago someone looked at me and said the exact same thing about me. These spoiled stupid people are one day going to grow up. And it doesn’t look good for them my friends.

Oh…and you asked for it!!! Get it here, your official* De-Lurk DAMMIT apparel. Seriously. It’s a shirt. Several of them. And they’re kinda cute.

*In no way is this official. I just thought I’d call it that.

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