Congrats to the Muslim Social Networking on Your Epic Fail

There's this girl I know. Who got a tattoo on her wrist that reads "princess" in Islamic script.

Not for nothing. Doesn't she know that we're at war? Annnd. I'm fairly certain that Muslims embrace bondage and hate women. Don't start polishing that tiara just yet. Cuz the sun don't shine under your burka.

It makes about as much sense as the new social networking site, Millatfacebook.com, started up by a Pakistani man. Why not just MilitantFacebook?

We are better. Our free-speech, democratic, capitalistic ideas are better, and if Pakistani man was so utterly offended, why are you feeding into our Western ways? Go back to your cave and face Mecca for a 40 day time out - and think about what you've done!

Did some digging. Felt like I was playing with fire so I'm furiously erasing and deleting all cookies.

Better yet. I love how all of their 'management' is sitting in front of computers sporting the good ol' American site. Fkn morons:









Could have saved himself a lot of hassle by simply making an Fbook Page for his cause.

A random thought for the day...

Okay.

So every day I thoroughly peruse Google. And still don't get what this effing Tea Party is about.

ALLs I KNOW is that it's political. And they're most likely not making progress. Stop sipping darjeeling and starting hitting the merlot. Everyone might get along a little better.

The Gingerbread House

This week was a joke. But finally cA$H, Barbie, and I are settled. And EEK has filled her role as the officially unofficial roommate-slash-tenant.

Here's a day in the life: Wake up. Work out. Make coffee and insert IV. Go to Work. Ascend Corporate Ladder. Dinner....and nightly activities consist mostly of Monopoly or catching up on world news. Sometimes a stroll around the neighborhood.

Time to start planning our tupperware parties and luncheons. Already the social calendar is filling up. HookerJones and I are going to start up a little bake shop venture. Bring your apron. Love me a good batch of cookies.

Spandex is Not Fun For the Whole Family.

Why not run a 3.5-mile race in 90% humidity with a gang bang of over 9,000 sweaty co-workers ?

Last week The Office laced up for the Chase Corporate Challenge, or as Upstate claims, the “region’s biggest company party”. Pretty sure that means the ‘region’s biggest YMCA locker room nightmare.’ Everyone orders those obnoxious neon t-shirts with nicknames that no one gets like “Juggernaut” or “Bean Counter”. People who take themselves way too seriously and sit behind a desk for a reason. Energy jelly beans. Fanny packs. Knee socks. And on my way to the starting line, I was flocked by a pack of old dudes - their balls suctioned in spandex. Instant seizure. P.S. We’re not running for Olympic gold here. Keep your milliseconds and your dignity.

Suffice to say I played survival of the fittest for 35 minutes. Dodging the pork swords and FUPAs.

Sorry. That I’m not sorry. I sat through too many of those No Tolerance assemblies to now be damned by the cross country team’s glory events like Corporate Challenges and turkey trot 5ks that are ‘fun for the whole family’. Save the freak show and shattered dreams for the locker room.

I know all you former athletes are feeling me. Even the benchwarmers can say that we held ourselves to a higher caliber of athletic prowess than the fleet feet-ers. But when graduation came around…most of us, minus a select talented few, traded in the jerseys of competitive sports for hand-made beer olympics t-shirts, Kan Jam tournaments, and company kickball teams. Or Weaver's X-TREME soccer club.

At any rate. The Office proudly boasted top finishers like B-Rettttt who bee-lined in a blistering 23 minutes, BuckWild notched 31 minutes. Give it 3 more years, another 20lbs...and we'll all be suiting up in spandex anyways...it's only a matter of time in cube life maturation. Til we become...This Guy:

A Priest And A Rabbi Walk Into A Bar

Really though. Did you hear the one about the girl getting fired for being "too sexy"?

How terribly disenchanting. Fired. From a bank. A place where greedy, rich egotistical ding-dongs come to deposit gobs of monies. Why wouldn't you want a stupidly gorgeous girl handling their goods? Think about the extra business she could reel in.

Maybe this girl doesn't eat cookies but that's no reason to hate on her for getting the cookie.

See? Cubicle hierarchy will never make sense. Unless you're talking about Production...why do you think they're locked up on the 11th?

But the cube dudes, cube chicks...we still got game yo. But no. Leave the future of the company to the cobwebbed cronies in their corner offices. Although I'm starting to think they've cubed me for a reason...the cube across from me is empty for the THIRD TIME. (RIP Miz. On to bigger and better cubes on 9). Getting fired for being 'too sexy' isn't exactly a daunting concern of mine.

Girls Can't Drive Goooooood.

So apart from a blind ol' witch nearly rear-ending me today. And temporarily forgetting my driving record...

This chick has got to be kidding. "I didn't see it" and "I only had one vodka cran the night before" doesn't really cut it.

Be prepared for one such situation: you gotta hold true to the fact that you were GPSing or closing a deal...

...that's always my fallback.

My First Apartment

I'm all moved in to my first 'grown-up' apartment. The twenty-something cube of influence continues to grow. And could not be more timely.

Me: So Ma - you going to miss having me around here?
Mom: I don't think you realize how much you're going to miss me.

So I just left my parent's house. We had a little farewell family dinner that my mom decided she didn't want to eat and that both siblings were absent for (I applaud them though. For having lives.). Steak and salad - Father and I brought our plates to the tv room. We were supposed to watch the Tivo'd "Friday Night Lights" that we missed yesterday. Until Parents got wrapped up in a deep convo about baseball drama. High school baseball. My brother's season. That just ended. Today. Brother didn't seem too concerned since he was in the basement with his girlfriend.

Then to be guilted about not "spending time" with them on my last night. You had me for a year. A year out of my twenties. A really fun, reckless, juicy and debaucherous decade of my life. I'm way more fun now than my Girl Scout badging, flute-playing days of the past. You been missing out, yo.

Leasing has brought some solid foundation to the twenty-something in between. There's $20 in my pocket and a bottle of white left to my name. I have a whole night and a whole life ahead of me. Watch out world.