I Don't Even Care That It's Out of Season

If you watched the movie The 40 Year Old Virgin, you’ll remember how the guys played this game where they would say “You know how I know you’re gay? Because you macraméd yourself a pair of jean shorts.” Hilarious. Go rent that movie.

Christine and I have started playing our own version of this. Recent ones include:

Me: You know how I know you’re a bitch? Because you introduced me to the pretzel dog.

Christine: You know how I know you’re a bitch? Because they just closed my Dunkin Donuts and you can go to yours any time you want.

Me: You know how I know you’re a bitch? Because I bought a carton of crème brule coffee creamer for your upcoming visit and I’ve used the entire thing.

Hmm. Funny how those all center around food.

Here’s my latest - Hey Christine and Alicia: You know how I know you’re both bitches? Because I want this more than my next breath:

Happy Birthday Kasey!

I hope you have a great birthday Kasey. I'm very grateful for your friendship. Whenever someone asks how we met, it sounds so random*. But we've stayed in touch for all these years and I'm proud of us for that. I hope that you have a great year and my present to you is the gift of forgiveness for you moving across three time zones next month.

Love, Cory

P.S. No photo so your anonymity can be maintained, though you are one of the most photogenic people I know.


*She was my BFF Christine's college roommate for one year. We've never even lived in the same city at the same time.

More on Where I Live

Lex and Terry named it Freakville for a reason. This weekend there was a big barbecue festival. I don't know why, stop asking me. I didn't attend, but heard that Robbie Knievel was going to be there as the main attraction. His plan was to ride his motorcycle from one barge over the St. Johns River to another. Well, the wind was too strong and he had to cancel. The newspaper reported that there were quite a few pissed off rednecks out there. I guess I would be too if I cared enough to pay $20.00 to watch a Knievel cheat death.

This past week was also The Players Championship which is a huge thing if you care about golf. I do not. Joe and I went out to the very overpriced and very overrated Morton's last night to celebrate his birthday. Apparently Fred Funk was at the table behind us, and even joined in singing Happy Birthday. He's a famous golfer, but I've never heard of him.

That's about as exciting as it gets around here. I can hear you laughing at me Mary.

Git R Done!

While I was just on the Netflix page for the sole purpose of rating The Dukes of Hazzard a big fat one out of five stars, I noticed that they have this new feature where they list which rentals are popular in your city. The Blue Collar Comedy Tour was number one on my list. Why does that not suprise me?

Recently I came across some blog in which the writer said that Git R Done (Larry The Cable Guy made that up) had become the new catch phrase at his office. As in his boss saying "get the job done." That makes me feel so icky because, is it my trashy mind, or isn't that a clear reference to having sex with a woman? I'm proud to say I've never watched The Blue Collar Comedy Tour, but I thought it was kind of common knowledge. Am I wrong?

I've said too much. Now you know that I know who Larry the Cable Guy is, and you know that I rented The Dukes of Hazzard of my own volition. AND now I'm going to get Google hits for "Git R Done!"

Spring Cleaning

This past weekend I got a facial from a woman who came highly recommended. I didn’t realize that pain was her specialty when I made the appointment. I’ve bitched here before about how much I hate my skin. I always enjoy the feeling of giving someone money to insult me and inflict bodily harm though. She confirmed that my skin is indeed fucked, and that it’s all due to my diet. Something about being acidic plus a long lecture about how the world will someday end due to the imbalance of Omega 3’s vs. Omega 6’s. I just nodded because I couldn’t tell you what an Omega was, except that I think it’s a model of car that Oldsmobile used to manufacture.

Up until Saturday, I’d had 2 facials in my life. Both lasted an hour and both left me bitterly disappointed. This facial lasted 4 hours. FOUR. I think at least one entire hour was devoted to leaning over boiling water which may or may not have contributed to what feels like a pulled muscle in my bum.

After every pore was squeezed and I was duped into buying a bunch of skincare products that I will no doubt use for all of one week, I was allowed to leave. I left with that punched-in-the-gut feeling I get when I just spent way too much money, when I should have just said no. I’m getting better about being a people pleaser, but it’s still something I hate about me.

The only way I’m now consoled is that I truly have no clogged pores or blackheads. It’s stupendous. I’ll even go so far as to say that it was worth the whole ordeal. She wants me to come back every 6 weeks, but I can say with great certainty that that’s never going to happen.

After the ordeal, I went to a little restaurant in the same building with the hopes of replenishing all the fluids I’d lost while steaming for an hour. Das Tormenter came into the restaurant too because apparently gouging people really works up an appetite. She reminded me in front of the counter person that I wasn’t supposed to eat bread. I ordered something breadless and got the hell out of there because I didn’t have the strength or the will to disobey her. As I was leaving I heard her telling complete strangers her theory about the Omegas.

Oh, and I cleaned out my email inbox. No emails to return, nothing to record on my calendar. It is joyous. We’ll see how long it lasts.

Pores and email are the extent of my Spring cleaning this year. Enjoy flipping your mattresses and dusting your air conditioning vents. I’ll be over here looking at myself in the mirror and giggling at my empty mailbox.

Thank You For Not Doing This To Me Bridget

This weekend I went to a bridal shower for a good friend. Her sister thought of this game in which she asked the fiance a bunch of questions about the bride (previously by email), then the bride had to answer them in front of her guests to see if their answers matched. Kind of like The Newlywed Game. Except with no prize and extreme humiliation.

It was very cute, and a good idea. What wasn't taken into consideration was that the fiance is a complete riot, and can't be trusted with things like this. The ones that stand out in my head are:

Q: What is your favorite memory of Jennifer?
A: When she shit her pants at Pizza Hut. (this is totally untrue, so he added something like "taking walks on the beach.")

Q: What is your favorite physical feature of Jennifer's?
A: Her boobs.

Jennifer got that one right, the only bad thing was that she was sitting next to her future mother-in-law when she had to answer it.

No Title Thursday

So this past weekend we went to beautiful and historic Beaufort, SC. Why, you ask, like
everyone else has? Because we're running out of places worth going. Plus, I'm a wee bit
star struck and quite a few movies have been shot there. I can never go to Los Angeles
because I know I would spend all my time taking tours of where the stars live and
where Marilyn Monroe died.

This is the house where the wedding was to take place in Forces of Nature. Remember,
with Ben Affleck and Sandra Bullock? Yeah, me neither.



This is the house where The Big Chill was filmed. I'm quite sure that the owners rue
the day they bought it because of all the touristy fascination. This was the best picture
I could get because of the locked gate and all the flora planted around the property.



This picture was taken especially for Alicia and her husband because they like to name
their tang fish nasty things. And their clown fish for that matter. It makes me love them
all the more.



This is the lighthouse that I keep saying Joe made me climb. I really think it was my
idea, and I remember paying for the tickets myself, so I guess I'll have to take full
responsibility for the sore calves I've had all week.



Some love Paris in the springtime, but I love the South.





On the way home we stopped in Savannah. This would never fly in my development. I
think I can safely say that their neighbors hate them.



This is where Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil took place.



And this is where a scene from Something To Talk About was filmed. I love the look that
woman is giving me.



We tried to eat at Lady and Sons. It was laughable. We got there at 12:30 pm and were
told that we could be seated at 3:15 pm. I know it was Sunday and church just let out,
but it's only fried chicken people. It's not like Paula Deen herself was back there cooking it.

Ok, I'm Sick of This

It seems that the most popular search term that brings people to this site is "Sandra Lee Nude." I don't have any nude Sandra Lee pictures. As a public service I looked under Google Images and there are none to be had, you freaks. Stop coming here. She's not even that attractive. Good day.

Little House of Horrors

We took a little trip this weekend. I've made the decision that I don't like bed
and breakfasts. They're great in theory, but I always feel like I'm staying in a
stranger's grandmother's house. This one was especially bizarre. Let's take a
tour:

Ooh, look how pretty! It was chosen for it's "Carribean feel." We were greeted
by a cute dog and cat who ran up to our car. Before we got in the house, the
dog started humping the cat. They were both females.



Here's a back view. Still so pretty.



Look at the view from the back yard. What a delight!



Let's go inside now:



Someone's obviously a collector.



Funny how none of these collectibles were visable during the online tour I
took.

Like these:



Or these:



And what the hell are these?



But this is the one that really gave me nightmares. What's that strange glow,
you ask? Pure evil.



This reminded me of that SNL sketch with the Nunis. You know "No, I am
Nuni. She is Nuni." This belongs in their house.



And hey Martha Stewart, you don't get to control me when for two nights I'm
paying you the equivalent of a week at the Best Western.



More later on the great time we had.

Misplaced Priorities

I should have paid attention during high school English. I know that someone shakes his/her head each time he/she reads my writing, what with all the dangling participles, comma splices, and the way I change tenses. Ok, if we're being honest, I don't even know what a dangling participle or a comma splice is.

Writing properly is obviously not nearly as important to me as constantly correcting people's grammar in my head. I vs. Me, He vs. Him, See, Saw, Seen. Trust me, I've got a mental red pen and I'm always using it. No one is exempt.

Today we received a lovely anniversary gift. It's something personalized, and so thoughtful. The only problem is that it says "The Lastname's." INAPPROPRIATE APOSTROPHE USE! Instead of feeling nothing but grateful and deeply touched, half of me kept thinking it's supposed to be "The Lastnames," "THE LASTNAMES!" I found myself tearing through the packaging trying to find the manufacturer's information so I could order a replacement without an apostrophe. I stopped myself when I realized that the giver may come to my house one day and see it and say "Hey, it's missing the apostrophe I ordered. That's just not right, I'm going to have to contact the manufacturer."

Thank you for the beautiful gift. If anyone else is in the giving mood, therapy and a grammar class are on my wish list.

Would It Be Impractical To Spend $14.99 On This?

Come on. It says 18 different things. Gosh.

Two Quick Things

Each time I go through the Starbucks drive thru, they always greet me with "Good morning. Can I start you off with a blueberry muffin today?" They pick something new each day to promote. Trust me, I know. This morning the guy said "Good morning. Can I interest you in an espresso machine today?" I hope I didn't hurt his feelings when I laughed directly into the speaker. Was I supposed to say "Sure, just give me a silver one." Because I always make major purchases by way of drive thru.

If you don't read dlisted seven times a day like me, I really don't know what to do with you. If you do read it, you'll know that they put up these absurd photos everyday and have a caption contest. I finally won. I'm really proud of this, but it probably just means I'm a real sicko. I was going to say "sick fuck," but I think I'm going to cut down on the swear words while blogging. Just as an experiment.

I'm It

I've been tagged by MK and The Mom, so I'd better get to it.

List seven songs you are into right now. No matter what the genre, whether they have words, or even if they are any good, but they must be songs you're really enjoying now. Post these instructions in your blog along with your seven songs. Then tag seven other people to see what they're listening to.

I don't listen to a lot of top 40 or whatever's on the radio because it tends to make my ears bleed, so I've taken the top 7 songs that I play in heavy rotation from my iTunes account.

1. Take Me Out - Franz Ferdinand
2. Live Forever - Oasis
3. Galvanize - The Chemical Brothers*
4. Only - Nine Inch Nails
5. Do You Sleep? - Lisa Loeb & Nine Stories
6. Starry Eyed Surprise - Paul Oakenfold**
7. Come Around - Rhett Miller

I’m liking that Sean Paul song "Temperature" and the new Nine Inch Nails. And it seems like Kelly Clarkson cannot release a bad song these days.

*It usually angers me when companies use songs I like to sell products, but Budweiser is doing a fine job with this one. I approve.

**And Diet Coke is doing a fine job as well.

You're it:

1. I've had
2. 3 Almond Joy Martinis
3. Tonight,
4. So linking is
5. Out of the question.
6. I say:
7. Everyone play!