I'm trying to get back into the swing of things having returned from 90-something weather to 50-something weather, so I will just throw out some random shit to keep y'all for now.
Observations on Vacation:
Floridians cannot drive -- It's called a TURN-SIGNAL people! USE IT!
Jersey into Florida ≠ Classy -- Some woman got totally ripped apart by yours truly for abusing our waitress. The conversation went something like: Bitch: This bread is HORRIBLE and DISGUSTING! Take it off our bill and OFF the MENU! (a) bread was delicious, b) the nasal Jersey accent is not pleasant at any hour)
Bitch: What is this crap? I ordered the Mahi sandwich! Waitress: You ordered the Mahi...you didn't say sandwich. Bitch: Take this back and get me what I wanted! (yah, I heard her order.. she said "I'll have the Mahi" dumb bitch)
Bitch: What is this ON (stress nasality of voice)??? Get me a real bun! Gawd! (um, yeah, the bread was a beautiful crusty hoagie roll that looked delicous)
So waitress bring out a hamburger bun... Bitch: What? This bun isn't TOASTED! How do you expect me to eat this???
The rest goes much like this:
Scottie (walks over to Bitch's table): Excuse me, ma'am. We're sitting at that table way over there having a fabulous meal. Bitch: Yah So??? (Janice from Friends wasn't this nasal) Scottie: Well, your attitude towards the waitress, who has the patience of a saint, is ruining our meal. Bitch: Mind your own business! Scottie: It's kind of hard when your voice is piercing through the air 10 feet away and making it our business. Bitch: Mind your own business! Scottie: Are you from Jersey??? Bitch: Mind your business. I LIVE Here! (with Jersey accent) Scottie: Fuckin' Jersey (turns and walks away)
Oh, and Bitch got up and left...and waitress thanked me profusely.
Mental Note: I don't want to see another Bahama Mama after our Bahamian cruise
Mental Note #2: When ancient hobbit of a man is wearing a speedo, don't look up as he bends over to rinse his scuba equipment, and thus expose his hold balls to yours truly
Open Letter to Fort Lauderdale: Dear Sirs: There is such a thing as free parking, Lycra is not intended for exterior-facing clothes, Rename your roads.
To Pittsburgh: Please take note of Florida's climate, and try doing that.
Northwest Airlines is Ghetto, Filthy, and Annoying; please don't tell me that there is a malfunctioning error light and that's why we are going to go back to the gate and sit on the plane for the next hour while some schmuck in a maintenance uniform checks it out
If I EVER get my hands on those assholes who had to get off the plane in Detroit even after being asked to wait for those of us with very short connections, I will hurt you. You are evil and you must be destroyed. (We JUST made our connection, because the next pilot decided to wait 10 minutes for us to get there.)
So in less than 12 hours, I'll be flying (once again) heading for Jersey (or, as Ly would call it "Fucking Jersey"). Actually, Jersey is not my destination...I'm making the long-awaited trip to Fort Lauderdale. Woo hoo!
In anticipation of this trip, I decided that I wouldn't be pasty on my first day at the beach; I was going to get a fake bake. Now, you can't possibly get a tan in less than 48 hours in a tanning bed, so I stopped at the Body Shop because they always have had decent sunless tanners. I bought one for my face and one for my body (you know, cuz the body one will clog the pores, and you can't possibly walk out of the body shop paying less than $40.)
Anywho, I got this shit home and (with some help) rubbed it all over. It stunk like cocoa butter that had been lathered on a dead skunk and left in the sun to rot, but those are the dues one must pay to look fabulous. So later last night, I started feeling some stinging around the eye and mouth areas. I thought "this ain't right!" and decided today that I should take it back, lest I desire to look like a bronzed puffer-fish.
On the way to take it back, I stopped at a gym and asked about a spray-on tan. The lady said it would work well for me and I shouldn't have any problems. Plus she showed me her tan arms and I was sold. I paid my $20 and then followed her down a corridor with signs such as "Bahama," "Hawaii," and "Caymen" outside of each door. I thought to myself "How Festive!" and then was lead into a room that looked like a cross between a french bistro and a Star Trek set. There was granite, copper, and tile everywhere, and a little half-naked statuette holding a box of Kleenex (I didn't say it was CLASSY french bistro), and then right smack in the middle was this giant metal and glass thing. I can only describe it as a thing...It just was. It was like one of those tubes at the drive through bank teller. I thought I was going to hop in and be beamed off!
The lady told me about the steps to get ready: shower cap, cotton balls, Secret spray-on deodorant (for the hands and feet..don't ask me, I only tell the stories), and I was set! There were diagrams on the machine which told me to stand with my arms out yet relaxed in a sumo squat, and then to start lifting one leg at a time high in the air while the opposite arm raised and lowered. I was to do this in 2 rotations around the booth whilst holding my breath and keeping my eyes closed. Oh yeah, and I had to do these steps and rotations within 6 seconds folks! Six SECONDS.
So I was left alone in this room, naked, cold, with shower cap and cotton balls and I thought, "don't do a Ross(see below)."
I pressed the button, hopped in the machine before the 15-second lead time was up, and then took a deep breath while I assumed sumo position. I stood waiting for a bit and thought, "is it 15 Mississippi?" and waited longer. Then I realized that the thing on the wall wasn't even blinking, so I jumped out quickly and tried pushing the button again. Then I ran back in just before the spray started.
Now folks, I am SO glad there wasn't a camera in this room (that I'm aware of), because what happened next can only be described as either a naked Apache War Dance or an orangutan on speed. I danced around in that thing like my ass was on fire. Legs arms and testicles were flying through the air...It can't have been pretty.
Then, after 6 seconds, I let out a breath and then jumped out of the booth. I finished up with the required rubbing of the brown streaky shit all over my body and then toweling it off of said brown shit. I was then to wait 4 hours to see a results.
I saw results all right! I only had a few streaky spots, but those have been toned down with some aggressively-applied moisturize (I rubbed out the spots). Otherwise, it doesn't look bad. I shouldn't be too pasty on the beach.
Pain IS beauty and all that...Have a lovely vacation, take lots of pictures and remember that in Florida the suns rays are lethal. Stay out of direct exposure during 11:30 - 1:30 when the UV filters out the tanning rays and only allows the burn rays. You should end up with a lovely tan.
This is to the mom's out there. I showed it to my mom last night and she laughed so hard she almost peed herself (she even said so).
Well, I guess it's so funny, because it's true...she does say this shit to me...and I do hate fish. When I first saw it, I said that the only thing it's missing is "but you used to like fish." When mom saw it, she said "but you used to like fish."
Fun shit...at least for me. So Happy Happy Mother's Day, Mums!
If said seafood restaurant is, oh I don't know, RED LOBSTER, there are plenty of cheddar bay biscuits to tie any non-fish lover over. I think they have some sort of chicken dish because last time I went there, i couldn't eat shellfish.
So there was just a commercial on for some debit card or something where these people are at a theater. They are purchasing tickets and the movie is supposed to start at 9. They look up at a clock that says 8:59, and then everyone frantically runs through the place trying to get their 10$ hotdogs and 20$ snowcaps. Then as the clock hits 9, they are flying into the theater doors.
Ok, so I'd like to know in what land of make-believe does a movie start on time? You KNOW there's going to be 4 commercials (including one for the marines), 5 previews, and some cutesy skit about turning off your cell phone.
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