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Monday, January 16, 2012

News to Me: Serena Williams' Love Life

Maybe I'm the last to know that Common was involved with Serena Williams, so forgive me for my late expression of disgust. There was a recent article write up about her love life, or lack there of, that reports she "can be super picky, never satisfied". Talk about beggars being choosers! There is no amount of money or talent in the world that can convince me that she is worth the attention of Common. There is a basic law of the universe that comes into play here: if you look like a derivative of a horse, you forfeit your right to be "super picky". You take what the hell you can get. The article goes on to say that Serena complains that she hasn't been on a date in "forever". I wonder why.

This is a common complaint I hear among women that frustrates me. Women as a gender are exceptionally more picky when it comes to dating then men. After a first date, a man is more likely to be interested in a second date with a woman if she is attractive, fun, and somewhat interesting. Women will refuse a second date because she didn't like the color shoes a man was wearing, a joke that he made, or how he pronounced particular wine. If you're single and actively want a mate, sometimes you have let certain bullshit go in order to see if there are things beneath it all that are worth coming back for. Don't get me wrong, I've refused a second date with a guy because I thought he had a lame tattoo and called too much, but I also didn't go home that night wanting a boyfriend. Being single/content and single/miserable are two very different things. The perfect man does not exist. Your only goal in dating should be to find a man whose annoying flaws aren't total deal breakers (i.e. abusive, cheating, and/or Katherine Heigl fan).

The moral of the story is, stop being so picky, ladies. And if at all possible, avoid looking like a horse.


Thursday, January 12, 2012

Good Cop/Bad Cop: Kim Kardashian

Good Cop

I'm not gonna say that I've never seen her shows, I will say however that I paid it about as much attention as I would to an autistic child in a spelling bee. The attempt is there but there's a real lack of results which is expected. It is because of this that I have no real disdain for Kim K, and I call her that out of sheer refusal to attempt to spell her ridiculous last name. I will say this while the majority of our nation is appalled at her marital mishap I find myself strangely relieved. I like the idea that I have had benders longer then this woman's vows were honored. She reminds myself and other morally loose women that marriages aren't as hard to get out of as everyone says. Nothing quite takes the pressure off the big day like realizing that tomorrow if you wake up and want out it'll take less time to leave your husband bitter, heart broken, and embarrassed then it did to sign the pre-nup. That'll do Kim, That'll do.

Bad Cop

Congratulations. The few people that liked you, which is likely those with an IQ equivalent to an autistic parrot, now realize what I've seen from the beginning: you're nothing more than a huge ass and a boring lay (thanks for shining the light on that Ray J!). As time goes on, we learn more and more that you planned your entire relationship and wedding in order to let it fail. I will never be that girl that will get on a soap box and yell about the "sanctity of marriage", but it's also hard to come by someone that would spread their cheeks and shit on it quite as violently as she did. If she didn't know that she was going to divorce him from the beginning, I strongly believe she would have done a better job in trying to conceal her marital woes rather than airing them out so apparently. It doesn't matter what her family says in her defense, especially that botoxed mother that gets 10%. We all know this was a shame. I seriously hope the Kim K hype can die down after this disgusting ploy for attention and ratings. Khloe is the only one that can make me put down the rusty razor long enough to finish watching the episode. Oh, did I not mention that I watch their shows? Like, all of their shows. Shit, I guess I'm officially a part of the problem....


Say What?!?!

I'm not gonna say that I'm difficult to amuse. I will say however, that it takes a very special kind of person to catch me off guard enough to leave me speechless. Working as a bartender I undoubtedly get to experience a very special work environment. This is a fragment of one of the many conversations that I've been a part of at work that has left me bewildered at the very least.

GUY1: Yea, you know I'm still dating that deaf chic.
GUY2: Oh yea. Hows that?
Guy1: Good. I guess. I mean she trips some. Its cool though when she keeps riding my shit and nagging me. I call her and leave her multiple voice mails. Who's mad now bitch????
Guy1/Guy2: burst out laughing

....I guess if I do go to hell. I wont be alone. *sigh*

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Cheap Shots: Short People

I ran into an old friend the other day. She looked great; she had just had a baby and lost all the gross motherly weight. Until then, I had never noticed just how short she was. That is, until she went in for the awkward hug. Where do you put your hands on a person that barely looks your vagina in the face? I always struggle in the format in these types of situations. I'm entirely too lazy to bend down too far. Yet if I don't, you're unable to breathe with a mouth full of boob.

Short people freak me out, plain and simple. The little fingers, clothing that looks fresh off of a Buddy Doll, and shoe sizes I couldn't fit when I was a toddler-- none of it sits right with me. I don't trust them; what are you doing all the way down there under everyone's natural line of vision? I tip my hat to the little Asian girls that wear high heels even with their sweatpants in an effort to compensate for their limitations.

I once dated a guy shorter than me. The relationship could not reach it's full potential considering that as a 5'9" female, I reserve the right to bounce on my lap and tickle anyone that is smaller than me. Apparently, that's not conducive to a healthy relationship or letting a man feel like a man. Oh well, you live and you learn.

Cheap Shot: That Girl

That Girl:
knows her yet no one claims to be her. Perhaps all women are her at one point in time. She's nice, caring, sympathetic, and understanding. All good qualities which most likely contribute to her being gullible and prone to being taken advantage of.

Maybe at one point she was appreciated and valued but no one knows for sure. All we do know is that presently
she is a blubbering mess that chases around a guy that's sole interest in her is monetary.

Oh sweetheart, drinks are on you no doubt, but so is rent, his child support, and the cost to repair the damage he did to your car. I'm not gonna lie this type of female makes me wish I was a lesbian for monetary gain alone. When did females become so vulnerable and idiotic. How are we as a gender completely capable of passing a watermelon through our vaginal opening then return to work in a few weeks, yet some of us can't summon the strength to tell our other half to get a job. I may be the minority here but I'd let you plow through all of my girlfriends before I'd let you drain my bank account. Say what you want about a broken heart but I'd take that over botched credit any day.

Still not sure if I'm talking about you? Still convinced that your situation is completely different? Sure, there are signs and clues to let you know that you are in fact "that girl" that we all mock publicly, but lets face it you wouldn't listen to them anyway. Maybe you'd listen but you'd be to busy identifying out to put two and two together. So why should I bother?

Eventually you will have alienated yourself from half of your friends, all of your money and most of your self respect will have disappeared. These things happen, at least to you they do. So know this, when you have given him your last twenty and your gas tank is empty, your nails are in need of a fill in, and your car payment is two months over due he will no doubt be doing what he has always done. Leaving you at home crying and wondering what you did wrong, while he catches up with me at the bar and buys me drinks all night. I guess we all win...... well, two out of three ain't bad.

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Free Advice: Baby Showers

A month or so ago I was talked into attending yet another baby shower. It was a tedious negotiation that had to be beefed up with promises of alcoholic beverages, a designated driver, and exemption from any and all baby shower games.

In preparation for this debacle I agreed to go half in on a diaper cake, whatever that was. I learned shortly that this was not something we would be buying, this we were going to create. Needless to say I only contributed financially and watched my childless underage friend happily spend and an hour and a half making a three tier cake out of diapers, lotion, toys, rubber bands, and ribbon. I actually would have been impressed had I had any intention of using my ovaries for anything other then a solid excuse to thwart off undesirable sexual relations. So I did what I do, while she happily made the cake envisioning what I would guess would be her own baby shower I drank a few beers and managed to mock her profusely. She was a good sport about it. I contribute this mainly to the fact that she too was drinking beer.

By the time we arrived all of the women were more than a few drinks in w/the exception of the mother to be of course. This made the air of contempt and bitterness quite pungent. She was surrounded by primarily older woman with the exception of a few, one being my noticeably intoxicated driver. You could tell that the soon to be mom was rethinking her enthusiasm. All she got to hear was how much pain labor was, the downward spiraling of their bodies, "if I had it to do all over" agains, and the pleasant sound of me popping open another beer. Needless to say I was amused even if my tubes were literally attempting to tie themselves. The "mother to be"'s mood was to say the least changing as the day progressed. I imagine she was rethinking her plight into motherdom or at least contemplating smuggling a bottle of wine into the bathroom with her. I suppose I'll never know.

I do know this however, the ideal audience for a baby shower is not a handful of menopausal women that hate their children and want a do over, a thirty year old mother that misses her vagina, a twenty-seven year old that eats morning after pill like their pez to thwart off oopsies, and a drunk twenty year old that just realized she likes drinking a lot more than changing diapers.

While epically entertaining for me it's not at all reassuring to you. A little free advice limit your guest lists to enthusiastic mothers to be or sober mommy drones. If you don't know any then perhaps you should skip the shower all together. I bet peace of mind and excitement of your upcoming vaginal sacrifice is worth a lot more then all the shitty presents you received at the baby shower even the diaper cake.



Jay Z wasted absolutely no time in writing and recording a new song featuring his brand new daughter who got her name from her father's favorite color. Creative. My favorite color is that magical hue you get when you accidently mix your ketchup and honey mustard, so beat that.

Am I the only one confused about Jay Z's proclamation that Blue is his "greatest creation"? Some where in the world, his son is slitting his wrist with a shard of plastic from a broken copy of the Black Album. I was rather anxious to be able to see the pics of the baby. That was until Jay Z so eloquently remarked in his song that "she looks like a little me". After spitting the vomit out of my mouth, I quickly lost interest in ever seeing this baby. It's hard enough to look at Jay Z in the face without having the sudden urge to watch Lord of the Rings. I'd prefer never to see that goblin-esque face on a miniature body. Poor thing. Clearly, money can't buy a cute kid. ("Believe me, I've tried" -Angelina Jolie)

My first wish, in the name of all things fair, was that the child would come out looking only of her mother. Since that dream is apparently floating out of reach, I just hope she doesn't turn out just as annoying and precocious as Will Smith's kids. Though, even after a few days, Blue now has just as much of an annoying singing career as Willow Smith.


Monday, January 9, 2012

Back in the Throw of Things

There's a time to give the people what they want and there's a time to walk out on stage, bringing false hopes and anticipation, only to drop the mic and disappear. We probably pulled a Chapelle prematurely with our blog and that's unfortunate. So here's our attempt to get back in the throws of things; to reach greater heights of entertainment and hilarity, and earn back your trust. We're going to treat this like we would treat any relationship we left too quickly and without a clear reason: we will tell you that you're still sexy and that we thought of you every moment we were apart, all the while knowing it is a distinct possibility that we may leave again, also without a good reason or even an obligatory good bye. So, we're sorry in advance.

Not a lot has changed. Melissa is still drunk, only in a different state. She's still bartending and refusing to adhere to an adult standard of living. Lauren's going the stand up comedy route, while Melissa is sticking to book writing. Lauren paid her dues and worked as a therapist for a time, but realized quickly that listening to people talk about their tragic lives without being able to laugh at it was a living hell.

We're a little older. Melissa's a little thinner and we're both a little more tatted up. Aside from that we're still the same. If we can't entertain you or at least shock and offend you then the next time you see us out and about, your first drink is on us. Well... it's on Melissa. It would be hard to find Lauren in a bar these days (with the exception of the occasional open mic). Here's to another few weeks of fun.

-Melissa & Lauren

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