Skinny Lesbian No Match for Sasquatch, News at 11

Fact: Chris and I are renting a cabin in the North Georgia mountains over Labor Day weekend.

Fact: Two men allegedly have discovered the 7'7" 500 lb. corpse of Sasquatch (hereafter referred to as Bigfoot) in the North Georgia mountains.

Fact: These two men also allege that while they were removing Bigfoot from the area (with plans to place in a freezer, no less), other Bigfoots (Bigfeet?) were seen circling the area.

Although these men have not disclosed the exact location where they found the furry carcass, I can only assume that it was within a 2 mile radius of the cabin we rented. And that the Bigfeet (Bigfoots?) seen circling the area have had plenty of time to plot their revenge.

I'm gonna end up in some Sasquatch's freezer, I just know it.

It's good to be loved...

Wonder when Jennifer is going to update her blog again. Life is just not worth living without it!

I agree. I know there are other blogs out there, but here's how I feel about them!

Please, oh please update your blog soon, Jennifer. If not, we will be forced to do other things...like work.

Ladies, ladies...don't you cry. I promise to blog soon...very soon. Show ya right.

Did you hear that?!?! A blog coming soon!! Now we have a reason to go on! Yippee!!!

saw this on cnn.com and it made me laugh out loud ***UPDATE***

And I'm posting it for no other reason than that.

It's my blog. Deal with it.

***EDIT***

I knew that picture reminded me of something...

Pageants, George Michael, Malls, Lesbians...

The following is an actual IM conversation that took place between me and B, referred to lovingly here as Pinto. (Side note: gotta love the fact that B has never really asked why we gave her such a moniker.) I tried to write a narrative version of this, but the real thing was sooooo much better.

Enjoy!

me: i know you have pageant issues from the unfortunate miss clawson incident
me: however
pinto: you want me to sign up for a pageant?
me: no, you've already won
me: sort of
pinto: I SHOULD HAVE WON
me: I AGREE
me: that whore
me: where is she now?
me: in the gutter addicted to meth?
me: anyways
me: you are first runner up...to be my chaperone to the george michael concert
me: if cj is not able to fulfill her duties
me: like if she comes down with e coli or some shit
me: i'm assuming that your silence means that you are overcome
pinto: i’m honored and speechless.
pinto: um, i am learning that perhaps there are conditions here?
pinto: like, responsibilities?
me: well, yeah
me: first
me: i might cry
me: so, you'll have to deal with that
me: second, i may require that you slow dance with me during "careless whisper"
me: no...take the may out...that's a definite
pinto: i see.
me: third, you can't make fun of the way he says faith-a-faith-a-faith-a
pinto: chris says that perhaps i would be allowed to find a suitable, hopefully gay, mail suitor for your dancing needs?
me: :(
me: k
pinto: i will accept these conditions.
pinto: perhaps
pinto: i can also have a parade in my honor, as first runner up
pinto: and ride in the back of the miata
pinto: like i did in 1994
me: i can see it now...
me: we could blast a gm song from the stereo
me: your theme
me: i'll have to think on what your theme is
pinto: ok
me: in other news...did chris tell you of my embarrassing mall experience?
pinto: no
me: did you have a chance to read my blog?
pinto: yes, good lord you are funny
me: why thank you
me: ok, so i went to the mall to buy a work-appropriate outfit
me: and i became overwhelmed
me: i hate the mall
me: i went into dillard's and was like, "who wears this shit?"
me: i went into the gap and thought i was in a freaking runway show
me: where are the khakis?
me: so, i was feeling all down
me: cause none of this stuff is me
me: and i round the corner of a certain dept store
me: and see a nice table of khakis
me: and POLOS
me: white ones
me: blue ones
me: black ones
pinto: jen central
me: YES
me: i was like, I DO HAVE A PLACE IN THIS WORLD
me: then i looked up
me: ...
pinto: men's section?
me: worse
me: juniors...still not that bad
me: wait for it
me: school uniform section
pinto: oh no
me: :/
pinto: hahahahahahahahaha
me: that may turn into a blog
me: and i was thinking...i'm not a bad dresser
me: i'm no fashionista
me: i have a very classic americana preppy lesbian look
pinto: they really just need to have a lesbian store.
me: yes
me: the way the fucking gap used to be
pinto: nothing but polos and jeans, some men's, some women's, plain t-shirts, cargo shorts
pinto: nothing floral, no skirts or dresses
pinto: perhaps even a little rack in the corner for that has some t-shirts with embroidered cats on them
me: lol
me: rainbow cats
pinto: like 6 of them, each a different color
pinto: and on the end of the rack can be some fanny packs
me: we should do this
me: instead of big & tall...dyke & butch
pinto: it's gotta have a more subtle name - i would never shop at dyke & butch
me: no no no
me: that would just be a section
pinto: ah, i see
me: i have my pride too
pinto: "the other kind of girl"
me: girls who like [blog edit]
me: too much?
pinto: very subtle
me: sorry...i think my starbux had an extra shot
me: you're better at subtle anyway

Putting the Casual Back in Business Casual...

I am of the opinion that jeans are business casual. Simply stated, jeans are nothing but khakis made out of denim. Especially the way I wear them...with a nice crease down the front. See?


I am NOTHING if not professional in those.

But alas, my boss is coming into the office unexpectedly, and I packed nothing but my jeans, 4 cans of heavy starch, and a commercial-grade iron. Oh well, guess I'll have to go Chatta-shopping tonite.

And in keeping with the theme, GM is in 2 days. Woot! I bet George Michael can wear jeans any time he damn well pleases. Shaking your ass next to a juke box in a pair of chinos would just be silly.

Wonder if my friends would disown me?

The Only Man I Have Ever Loved...

The countdown begins...

The girl may have a point.

So, Chris has always told me that I have a default photo face. A kind of frozen grin that flashes across my face when I know that my picture is being taken. I've denied such. However, a recent duo of pictures has made me reconsider her claims.

Exhibit A:

This picture was taken on my birthday. Did the large candle topped confection in front of me give it away? And don't hate on my cookie cake. Yes, I am aware that no one has ordered a cookie cake since 1987. I'm bringing it back, people, and Great American Cookies was glad to have the business. Times are tough. But I digress. On to...

Exhibit B:

This picture was taken last night at my delayed birthday celebration at B & C's. They were conveniently in Miami being chorus rock stars or some shit on my true birthday. I made them throw me a party when they got back. Again, with the digression.

The photos are strikingly similar. Let's review:

• The smile is very similar.
• My head is cocked slightly to the left in both.
• Hands are clasped in both.
• The same piece of hair has crept out from behind my left shoulder in both.
• My hair is parted in the same place...let's be honest people...that part hasn't moved in 20 years and it's not moving anytime soon.
• Apparently, pink is my summer color.
• I have terrible posture in both.

Eery. I might submit these photos to Highlights magazine for a future installment of "spot the differences" That's right...I said, Highlights. Don't hate. Goofus & Gallant...I'm bringin' it back.

Change I Can't Fit In

If anyone knows any politically active sufferers of anorexia nervosa in need of clothing, I have a nice new Barack Obama t-shirt that needs a new home.

Apparently, when the description indicated "sizes tend to run slightly small," it really meant, "get a large, fatty."

Mocha, Take the Wheel

So, I went to Starbucks this morning. It's my Dancing Goats alternative when I'm Chatta-working. I think I've got the formula down to make the Starbucks version of my signature iced mocha less heinous...only 2 pumps of chocolate vs. the 4 that they normally put in there. I ordered coffee, not a candy bar, people. Anyways, my Chatta-barista tells me that I have been chosen for an online survey and that participation in said survey enters me for a chance to win $1,000. Woot!

Of course, that's the first thing I do when I get to the Chatta-office. Here's the rub...if I'm honest and tell them their coffee tastes like crap and I only get it because there's no Chatta-ternative, I ain't winning no $1,000. It's just like the Publisher's Clearning House sweepstakes. No purchase necessary my ass. You're not getting that $1,000,000 unless you are up to your armpits in Field & Stream and Better Homes & Gardens.

So, as much of a betrayal as it is to my beloved DG...I have to admit that I kissed a little Starbucks ass to get a shot at the $1,000.

I feel so dirty.

I did draw the line however when asked to rate on a scale from strongly agree to strongly disagree whether or not I found my visit to Starbucks "uplifting." (I kid you not.) It's coffee, people, not Opra....er, I mean Jesus.

Random Thoughts...

Walking into Target and realizing that of the 7 items that make up your outfit, 5 were purchased at Target. This is about as cool as wearing your favorite band's t-shirt to their concert. In other words, it's not. Whilst shopping today, I tried to keep moving so people wouldn't think I was a mannequin.

Realizing that even though the new fast food craze is to greet drive-thru customers with, "How are you today?" instead of "Can I take your order?", doesn't really mean that the 16 year-old working the drive thru really wants to know how my day is going nor does she want me to return the favor.

Taco Bell Representative: How are you today?
Me: Just fine, thank you. How are you?
::2 MINUTES OF SILENCE::
Taco Bell Rep: Hello?
Me: Hello?
Taco Bell Rep: ::Exasperated sigh:: Go 'head with your order."

It is true that blaring good music in your headphones and singing along at the top of your lungs into a shampoo bottle make cleaning the bathroom a much more pleasant experience; however, it is worthy to mention that your skiddish puppy dog might not agree. If such behavior is necessary, it is wise to set aside additional time afterwards to explain to the puppy dog that Mama did not say to knock her out, and that I am not required to save the world, let alone in only 4 minutes.

Chatta-isms

Most of you blog readers (all 4 of you) know my work situation. But, in the off chance that someone reads this that isn't related to me in some way, let me explain. I began commuting from Atlanta to Chattanooga, TN about 3 weeks ago for my job.

::GASP:: You commute to CHATTANOOGA??? ::GASP::

Get it out of your system, people. Yes, I commute to Chattanooga. I could go through all the reasons why it's not as bad as it seems, but truly, it becomes exhausting. As long as it's ok with me and my girl (and so far, it is), no explanation is needed.

But that little rant isn't the reason for my blog post today. This post is about Chatta-isms. Spending a few days a week in a new city is interesting. Chattanooga isn't all that new to me...I mean, I had been here several times before for work. And even before that Chattanooga was a tourist destination in the Tennessee Valley. The aquarium in downtown (this was before the Atlanta aquarium...you know, the place where the fishes go to die), the Chattanooga choo choo, oh, and Ruby Falls. Ruby Falls, Ruby Falls. You can drive within 500 miles of Chattanooga and see signs for Ruby Falls. Ruby Damn Falls ain't nothing but an underground waterfall with a red light shining on it. But I still bought the bird house with "See Ruby Falls" painted on it.

But I digress.

On to the Chatta-isms, or words/phrases I use to describe my new found home away from home.

• Chatta-lesbian - Weeble wobbles who sleep with other weeble wobbles, wear long shorts, and sport their Vols hat backwards. I saw a couple in Target the other day. They looked at me as if to say, "What are you lookin' at straighty?" I took offense. Who says a lesbian can't pull off an argyle cardigan?


• Chatta-Moe's - The best damn Moe's on the planet. I've been twice and am VERY impressed. Also impressive is the fact that the employees are caucasian females. It has been my experience that the closer you are in ethnicity to the food you are preparing, the better the food will be. (Racist? I don't think so.) So, I was worried to see young white female teenagers about to prepare my Unanimous Decision. (Side note: can Moe's make up their damn minds about what they want to call a vegetarian taco? 'Cause I just got Ugly Naked Guy memorized, and they changed it! Hey, I know, hows about calling it a VEGETARIAN TACO. Geesh.) But, much to my surprise, the food was outstanding. White girls hooked it up, mmmm-KAY?


• Chatta-hobby - what I need to get. Currently, it's shopping. And that's bad. The area I'm in has a mall about 100 feet from the office, and a new Target, Wal-Mart, and Old Navy just down the road. Hmmm, should I sit in the room and watch TV....or go shopping?


• Chatta-fuel-ga - yeah, that's a bit of a stretch. But gas is cheaper here, and I could kick myself that I didn't fill up yesterday when it was $3.59/gallon. It jumped up to $3.67 today. BASTARDS! People, that's $1.20 right down the ol' drain. Which brings me to:


• Chatta-highway-robbery - The $2.50 I spent on a Baby Ruth and a Coke last night at the hotel vending machine. That's ok, I make up for it by stealing all the little shampoos, conditioners, body wash, lotions, note pads, pens, Bibles, towels, remote controls, wall art, Please Do No Disturb signs, and wall mounted hair driers. Bolt cutters come in handy.


• Chatta-nental-breakfast - I have yet to experience the breakfast at the hotel. I walk by it every morning and think, I should get something, it's free! But I don't. This morning, I decided against it because there were a bunch of boys in there. I would guess that they were part of the Kleenex sponsored racing team (I saw the big trailer parked in the parking lot last night)...they just had that racing look. And I had two laptops with me, so I couldn't very well juggle 2 laptops, a bowl of frosted flakes, a banana, a cereal bar, a cup of strawberry yogart, and apple juice. Maybe next time.

I will be adding to this list as I experience more of The Scenic City (the official nickname...needs work, I think.)

Your humble Chatta-blogger.

My Latest Business Venture

1 Lesbian & A Jeep Office Movers

Um, yeah, I have my own tools. Duh.

Progress?

There's only one thing that could bring me out of my blog hibernation: a fast food issue.

Not just any fast food, but McDonald's. And not just any McDonald's, but the first McDonald's ever constructed in my hometown. It's the trifecta, people, and I'm not happy.

It seems that under the guise of progress, the owners of the first established McDonald's in Huntsville, AL have decided to remodel. That in itself is no crime. However, as part of the renovation, they are removing the original sign, a freaking LANDMARK of the Huntsville skyline.

This sign has been there since 1963. And my research tells me that it's one of two still in operation. And now it's being torn down to be shipped to a vintage sign museum in Ohio. Ohio? WTF?Sigh. I know that things change. And I know it's just a sign. And if I'm perfectly honest, it never was my favorite McDonald's and I haven't been there in years. But it was just the idea that it was so unique, and one of the things that made my hometown, MY hometown. And now, it's gone. To Ohio. (WHY OHIO!?) There is a similarly nostalgiac sign at the Arby's across town.

(Full disclosure, that is not the actual sign.)

If I get wind that they are even thinking of tearing it down, fast forward to me chaining myself to it.

So yesterday, I decided to go to McDonald's for lunch. In addition to my usual cheeseburger, large fry, and medium Coke...I purchased one small orange drink (no ice). After I got my order, I pulled to the front, exited my car, said a few words, and poured one out for the loss of my childhood and my homie Speedee.

RIP, brother.

Enough already...

If I hear Bruce Springsteen's rendition of Santa Claus Is Coming To Town one more time, I think I might scream.

Also, if I hear the phrase Reason for the Season one more time, a similar response can be expected.

That is all.

people are dumb

That's not a peace sign, dummies. That's mercedes logo.

Dairy Products...Beware!

An innocent trip to the Decatur beerfest, prompted a protest letter by my gf. She's good at protest letters. Really. Yes, she's been to PETA rallies until she realized that they were a tad on the militant side. She once wrote Rosie O'Donnell protesting leather jacket week (or something similar) on The Rosie O'Donnell Show. Rosie sent her back an autographed picture. We still have it. Needless to say, the girl should have been alive in the 60s.

Back on point, so gf and B were at the beerfest and were sampling a local brew by the name of "Donkey Punch." The guy serving it made some suggestive comment regarding the phrase donkey punch, which they were clueless about. That is until they got home and we googled donkey punch and found out that it is a term for...well...just look it up.

So, CJ is up in arms and send the brewery this letter:

DonkeyPunch. It's not an appropriate name. I thought it was fine and associated it with a high gravity, must feel like you're getting kicked in the head, until I was at the beer fest and a volunteer was serving some of the barley wine to a friend of mine and made an inappropriate joke which tipped us off that perhaps there was another meaning behind the name of your latest. Beer should be fun. I don't think that promoting violence during sex is fun or should even be nodded to as fun even in jest. I'm a long time supporter of Sweetwater brand and love all your brews and I think that you are a staple of Atlanta, but you should consider changing the name of your barley wine to something less offensive. It's easy to get lost in the male dominated world of beer, and lose sight of "the line" but it is there, and I think you have crossed it. I'm very disappointed in the name selection and hope that you will change it and be more careful in the future.

Rock on, sistah. And not to let an opportunity pass me by, I penned the following letter:

Dear Dairy Producers of the World,

Half and Half. Milk and cream. Innocent enough, right? Not so fast, dairy people. I learned from Cops that half and half is a term used by women of the night meaning sex in the missionary position and fellatio. The last thing I want to think of while enhancing my morning beverage is some skank giving a John a BJ, mmmkay?

Some name alternatives might be extra-creamy milk..er, no. How about milky cream….uh, scratch that. Well, coming up with a new name is really your problem.

I appreciate your immediate attention to this matter.

And lest you think that our grievances only relate to beverages, we are planning a campaign against Beanie Weenies in the very near future.

Viva La Revolucion!

who knew

i am obsessed with pink.

and not the color.

i go through phases where i fixate on a song and play it...non-stop. as in put it on repeat and leave it on all day. i did that a couple of weeks ago with pink's "who knew" and kanye west's "stronger." i listened to those 2 songs continuously all day long. and i never got tired of them. it's weird.

don't you hate it when you love a song and can't sing it? like physically can't hit the notes. i hate that. i wish i had pink's voice...all rhaspy and such. once after i had the flu, my voice came close. too bad it didn't stick.

i also like pink because when she sings, she gestures the words. like when she sings when someone said three years from now, she holds up 3 fingers. when she sings, i'd stand up and punch them out, she balls up a fist. i do that. on 285. people think i'm flipping them off probably. but i'm not. i'm singing with my fingers.

just like pink.

who knew?

Don't call me...

...between the hours of 9:00 and 10:00 p.m. EDT, for I will be glued to the TV watching the Season Premiere of one Grey's Anatomy.

CJ is not a Grey's fan, so she has been given strict instructions that she cannot talk or ask questions during the show. She is considering vacating the premises. Smart girl.

Typical Saturday Night

I don't care if he [R. Kelly] is a pedophile, that song is awesome!

It's a brown out!

B likes short pants!

Do your pants dance, B! (B's response: They're jeans not pants!)

It's a little wet.

It starts with an A. Google jodie + foster + rape.

When I'm in an elevator by myself, sometimes I do a karate kick like this.

It's a bi-plane! ::giggle, giggle::

You have your mouth open in every picture.

No double-chin!

Who's sober enough to drive to Dairy Queen? ::silence::