I’ll be the first one to admit that things have gone terribly awry when you walk through your newly attained house in your newly attained town, (Memphis, TN) asking two dogs (one yours, one is a friend’s who happens to be at a minor-league baseball championship against the Tacoma Rainier’s- WILD!!) , “What, do you guys not find this funny?”…as you are chuckling to yourself, blasting Wilson Phillips, ‘Hold On’ out of an awesome old stereo from Mississippi, walking into the kitchen to get more tea- lights to place on your beautiful antique breakfast trays standing up in your living room.
I LITERALLY PICKED COTTON BRANCHES FROM A PLANTATION AND PUT THEM IN A TIN VASE TODAY. (see photos above)
There are a few words that really irk me when said in certain ways. Continue reading to find out how to delight or aggravate my ears.
Harassment
Mature
Patronize
Harassment isn’t HARRIS-mint— that makes it less threatening and more British.
Mature, again, you sound pretentious when you say ma-TEWER.
AND for my biggest pet peeve, patronize should be said PAYtronize. I find it PAYtronizing with people say “Don’t PATronize me”
Now that we have touched on the subject of vexing words in the English language, I’ll continue.
There are a wealth of words that I can’t stand to hear in day to day language. Some examples are moist, ointment, grody, panties…etc. they just give me the creeps; so, if you find yourself in some disgusting conversation where these words are necessary, please make sure I am out of earshot. THANKS!!
I suppose in order to avoid all words of contention, maybe you should just shut up so we can have sex already.
Many women who do not dress modestly … lead young men astray, corrupt their chastity and spread adultery in society, which (consequently) increases earthquakes,” Hojatoleslam Kazem Sedighi was quoted as saying by Iranian media. Sedighi is Tehran’s acting Friday prayer leader.
—“Iranian Cleric: Promiscuous Women Cause Quakes,” out of Beirut today. (via sarah-ball)
It’s raining outside which isn’t good for my seasonal depression, but listening to tina turner is a short-term cure or at least a band-aid. I work from home which isn’t good for someone who likes to talk to people more than anyone should like to talk. I talk too much and often I say too much and I think a lot of people think I am a big fucking weirdo. I asked my best friend if she thinks I’m weird and she says I’m the weirdest and then I ask her why and she tells me there are too many ways to count. Please take into account that my best friend is a couch surfer and by that I mean she spends most nights on my couch. Also consider that we went to Joshua tree, Pioneertown more specifically, this past weekend for her birthday and had a foursome with a hetero-couple. They asked us if we were friends or friends with benefits and we laughed and shrugged and went to cabin 17 where we pet real live horses, took shots of Jameson or rather swigs from the bottle, and piled into bed and the little one said roll over. We got bored and decided it was time to go to bed so we left and passed out. The next morning we were in the car headed into palm springs for a bloody mary breakfast and the elderly proprietor of the pioneertown inn called us to say that our “friends” from last night had left their bag in our room. We have no idea how this bag ended up in our room because they were never in our room and plus the bag’s contents were things like hairdryers and expensive makeup that I have never used or owned. I had to speak to my “friend” from last night on the phone and was surprised to discover that her name was Kristen; I did not recall that in the slightest. Anyway, we dropped her bag off at the concierge of the Ace hotel where we enjoyed a blood-orange cocktail and some egg dishes. Kristen and her boyfriend successfully retrieved their possessions according to the guy at the front-desk and we successfully made it back to LA. Only three months till my birthday, maybe we can hit a civil-war reenactment town next.
On Sunday we raged big, starting early with a darts tournament, some beers, a cameo at the val party (co-hosted by our enormous Armenian door guy and his identically named roommate and populated predominantly by his green-track suit & blue toothed sporting black and brown friends). After drinking some unidentified orange shots out of dixie cups at the MTV video shoot (jk but really that’s what it looked like), we popped up sepulveda for a feast at my parent’s house with my brother, his gf, their adorable dog, and my perpetually stoned and unemployed half sister. We told some lies and got good and drunk; and, after dropping off my track shoe equivalent of teva wearing out-of-town friend, hit the bar to do some serious drinking (and in my case, pilling). It started pouring so naturally I decided it a brilliant plan to stand outside in the rain with my hands in the air, too effed to consider the consequences of such actions: in this case being that when my hair is wet it tends to look gelled and spiked, which is good for jersey shore but not for a melrose whore. After some shots and tears we went home and put ourselves “to bed” (in our case sans underwear, head to foot on the couch, wearing matching long sleeved shirts), while a mac-genius slept soundly in my bed.
Sometimes you hangout with 2 girls, neither of who are your co-ho. Sometimes you go to hamburger hamlet, a nylon mag party, then get a ride with a man that may be called ‘the arab parrot’ to darkroom, where you may stay until 3:45 in the morning.
It’s possible that you then proceed to sleep at the girl’s house, but she sleeps out and at 4:30 a.m. an asian male model enters the house, the room you’re in and then your vagina- completely unsolicited. Then again, this may only be possible if you are me and it’s just another wednesday night .
