Monday, June 27, 2005

The Only Kind of Cosmo I Like Has Vodka In It

hi, my name is jelly and i am an addict. i am powerless over my addiction. i cannot stop buying magazines. i will buy almost any magazine. lured by the glossy covers and promises of exclusive interviews, i go into a fugue state at the newsstand and can easily spend $50 on magazines in one day. i do subscribe to a few, namely Entertainment Weekly and US. those are my guilty pleasures and they arrive every friday. they are like a little present to me, a "hey, jelly, you made it thru the week without slapping anyone and getting arrested! CONGRATS! as your reward, here are 4 more pics of lindsay lohan's anorexically thin thighs. YOU ROCK!" gift. and you most certainly don't want to be around me if they arrive a day late. i can pout for a solid hour just because my weekly dose of britney's bump is 24 hours behind schedule.

other magazines i love and buy like clockwork are Glamour, Bust and Allure. i don't really care for Marie Claire too much, though. while most of the articles are good, every single month there is some hugely depressing article on 12 year olds getting cliterdectomies in tanza-botswa-stani. yeah, yeah, yeah, i know these are important issues that need to be brought to the public's attention, but i feel weird getting all idignant over that, then flipping the page and going, "OOOHHHH! look at the new self tanners! i gotta try those." it just reminds me how shallow i really am.

but there is one magazine that i just can't bring myself to buy. it is the most vapid, inane trite piece of crap ever. yes, you know i am talking about Cosmopolitan. i read it for a few years in my late teens/early 20's until one day, i had the Cosmo Epiphany. it's the same magazine month after month after month. the articles NEVER change, just the pictures. whoever publishes this is a freakin' genius. i mean think about it. they rotate out the same 20 articles. they never have to do any actual work. i imagine the Cosmo offices are deserted 29 days out of the month. then one day, the 2 staffers come in, rearrange the pics and text, and voila! July's issue is done. it's brilliant, really.

every month, the headlines on the cover promise 10 SHOCKING SEX SECRETS THAT WILL ROCK YOUR WORLD!! you know what the secret is? are you sitting down for this? men like blow jobs. I KNOW! you could have knocked me over with a feather. that's information worth paying $3.99 for.

then there is the monthly exercise and diet program that promises to get your body bikini ready in 2 weeks. the only thing that would get my body bikini ready in 2 weeks is a 2 week bout of food poisoning. even then, AT BEST, i MIGHT be ready for a tankini.

the "why don't you section" never fails to make me roll my eyes all the way into the back of my head. they offer super duper helpful tips on how to be the BEST YOU THAT YOU CAN BE. shaving my pubes into a heart shape does not make me a better person, i am fairly positive. i might make me a nicked and bloody person, though. hell, i can barely draw a heart with a pen and paper and i supposed to sculpt my bikini line into a topiary? that's just an accident waiting to happen.

hey, but then, i would have a story to submit to the "embarassing moments" section! those so-called confessions are such bullshit. i mean REALLY! how many girls do you know that have been caught having sex on their in laws antique dining room table? by the family priest? according to Cosmo, it seems to happen like clockwork.

these girls must be the same idiots that write into the "relationship questions" column.
"dear cosmo,
my boyfriend has a large gay porn collection and will only have sex with me if i am wearing a police officer's uniform. he also has a large collection of broadway showtunes. do you think he's gay?
confused in columbus

dear confused,
he's not gay. he's just REALLY REALLY REALLY in touch with his feminine side."

they also offer cutting edge relationship advice. did you know men don't like high maintenance women? did you know that men like to think they are in control? oh, and in case it didn't sink in the first 300 times they printed the article, men like blow jobs. take note.

they really should just be honest and rename the magazine You Are A Raging Moron and We Are Ripping You Off for Another $4 This Month.

Thursday, June 23, 2005

Jelly - The Early Years

i got a scanner yesterday and have now become a SCANNING MANIAC! i seriously cannot stop. don't sit there laughing at me. i know everyone else in the free world had one 7 years ago, but i never did and this makes me happy, so shut the hell up and enjoy this trip down memory lane. then post comments and tell me how cute i was.


obviously, i have NEVER had any maternal instincts and this kid knew it. look at him struggling to get away from me. he knew even then that my uterus is purely decorative.


my 1st grade photo

my mom spent the better part of my childhood trying to coax my stick straight marcia brady-esque hair into curls. and this was long before the invention of those comfy, foam rollers. oh no, my rollers had TEETH! and i had to sleep with those damn torture devices in my head. i still have perma dents in my skull from those fucking things. WAS IT WORTH IT, MOM? WAS IT?


i think the bunny peed on me


this is a scan of a crappy polaroid, but it is the classic "i lost my front teeth" photo. here is where i most resemble my paternal hillbilly relatives. all that's missing is the chewing tobacco and a sister cousin.


looking at the expression on my face, i can only guess that 30 seconds after this was taken, i pulled a glock out of that xmas stocking and blew the photographer to smithereens. i have always been filled with the holiday spirit.


if you dare make fun of my bitchin' knee socks or basket, i wil let go of the dog's collar and happily watch her rip your throat out.

Monday, June 20, 2005

RIP Ruckus


today we had to put him to sleep due to the cancer. he was the most loved and most lovable dog i have ever known. everyone who met him fell instantly in love with him. he was our baby and he will be missed more than i can say.

more pics as per mandy's request

BUSTED in the pantry - he was hunting milkbones


Sunday, June 19, 2005

Oh, I Didn't Realize You Don't Own A Mirror. How Sad for You.

i can't believe i really have to spell this out for you people, but i have witnessed some especially heinous crimes of fashion recently, so i feel honor bound to educate.

*it is never appropriate to wear skin tight beige linen pants with black underwear. and if your black panties are so tight that they segment your ass and you appear to have 4 butt cheeks, i will be forced to shoot you with a poison blow dart and drag your barely breathing self to victoria's secret where i will show you the magic that is known as the nude thong. the nude thong is your friend.

*now, let's say you actually get it right and wear the thong. ok, 2 points for effort. but if your pants are STILL so tight that i can see the outline of your thong, well, that hurts my heart. there is no shame in buying pants that actually fit. look into it. you won't be sorry.

*one of my current favorite shows is "family business" on showtime. i do so love trainwreck tv. the "star" of this show is adam glaser. adam, you are a porn king and probably make 87 bajillion dollars a year. why do you continue to wear sleeveless flannel shirts circa 1992? and the hair, oh the hair. adam, adam, adam. long, naturally curly, greying hair on a grown man? well, if people didn't know you were in porn before, one look at that your white boy jheri curl tells them all they need to know.

*capris and cankles. there is nothing wrong with having cankles. it's a disability like any other. but wearing capris is akin to shining a klieg light on them and wearing a sandwich board that says, "hi. my calves are so fat they have swallowed my ankles." and wearing heels does not diminsh them. it doesn't. it just makes you look like a hippo on stilts.

*velour sweatsuits a la juicy couture. they were ugly five years ago and they are ugly now. they flatter no one. burn it. please. and if you don't, i will. and i will probably do it while you are still wearing it. so save yourself the first degree burns and get rid of the ugly mofo.

*spray painted on jeans. wearing clothes 2 sizes too small DOES NOT make you look 2 sizes smaller. it just makes you look like a sausage link that can't take a deep breath. it pains me to look at you.

*fellas, satin shirts only belong on guys named guido with questionable family connections. and when the light catches your shirt at just the right angle, the glare is blinding. and the buttons on your shirts are not decorative. they serve a function. please keep your chest hair under wraps. it grosses me out.

*billy ray bob, your metallica tshirt came with sleeves. i know it did. why do you feel it necessary to cut them off and expose you arms and pits to the world? i don't even have to look up to know you are sporting a mullet. yes, you are that predictable. now hop into your camaro and zip on down to the swap meet and get a new shirt. one with sleeves.

and this has been my good deed for the day. carry on.

Wednesday, June 15, 2005

Go Speedracer! Go Speedracer! Go Speedracer, GO!

being the creature of habit that i am, i take the exact same route to work every morning. part of this trip requires i travel on balboa blvd. it's a long, slightly downhill street. the downgrade means it is all too easy to find yourself going faster than the speed limit if you aren't paying attention. but, i do pay attention. why? because the cops have figured this out also, and i see them merrily handing out tickets at least three mornings a week. now, what i don't understand is, who are these mouth breathing idiots that are getting ticketed? we see the cops there all the time. if these people had two functioning brain cells to rub together, they would know this is NOT the street to speed down. but the operative phrase there is "two functioning brain cells to rub together." but i will admit to giggling when i see them pulled over. it's almost worth getting out of bed every morning.

they go down this street every single morning just like i do. and i know this, because i see many of the same cars every day. i'm not a car buff, but i do recognize them by their personalized plates, bumper stickers and customized license plate frames. a few mornings a week i see a brown car with a personalized plate that reads, "MYNDMLD." and every time i see it, i try to peek at the driver to see if he is wearing a klingon costume, but i can never get close enough. darn.

then there is the einstein in the red pickup truck. he has a native american dream catcher hanging from his rearview mirror. now, my understanding of the legend behind those is that they catch your dreams while you sleep. um, please tell me you aren't sleeping while driving. although that would explain a lot of the other dumbasses i encounter daily on the freeway.

and let's not forget mr. rico suave. his customized plate frame reads, "I Would Rather Be Eating Pu$$Y." but without the dollar signs. sorry, but i just can't bring myself to type it out exactly as it reads. now rico, that's a nice sentiment, but is that something you really want to advertise? i always wonder if he has a job and a family. does he go to his grandmother's house and what how does he explain that to her? what about his company parking lot? does his boss ever see that? i am fairly certain he doesn't drive that car to church, though. i have often wondered who wears the tshirts that i see on well, now i know. i bet rico is a preferred customer.

the fellow commuter i would most like to beat with my Club is the woman in the white ford taurus. whenever i see her in front of me, i will make three lane changes just to get away from her. she hits her brakes constantly and alternates between 2 mph and 45 mph with no rhyme or reason. she needs to die.

now, of course, having said all this, what do you want to bet my happy ass gets a ticket tomorrow?

Saturday, June 11, 2005

The Bitch at the Vet's Office Just Got A Verbal Ass Whooping

i have to preface all this by saying, that while i may come across as very bitchy in this forum, i am actually very nice in person. almost shy. no, really, i am. i swear. you can ask around. you really have to push me to get me pissed. well, the office manager skank at the vet did it today.

and i always to try to be pleasant to serivce personnel because i worked retail and i know how hard it is to deal with the public at large. most of my bitterness stems from too many years of listening to women bitch at me that the pants they ordered did not fit and what was I going to do about it! well, if you are 5'3" and weigh 175 pounds, you should not have ordered a size small in the first place, and i recommended you order a size large the first time we spoke, but you seem to have a mirror that makes your chubby self look like paris hilton, so i really don't know what more i can do besides suggest a reality check on aisle five. i bet if you did a study, you would find that most valium addicts work in customer service.

we have been going to this same vet for over 10 years and we have dumped thousands and thousands of dollars into this place. my dogs go the vet if they so much as sneeze. coupled with the fact that my last dog was an accident prone little mutt, well, let's just say i would not be surprised if my vet was able to buy a new jaguar every year.

the office manager, ethel (and that is her real name) is spectacularly unpleasant to me every time i have to deal with her. i can understand that she might be bitter at being saddled with a name like ethel, but is that really my fault? whenever i leave there, i think to myself, "well, i don't remember spilling pig's blood on her at the prom, but ok."

my dog, ruckus, has bone cancer and is currently taking pain pills to stave off the pain. i get a refill on these pills every 2 weeks. so, this afternoon i called and they told me the pills would be ready after 5pm. i get there at 6:30pm to pick up the pills and find that it is now emergency hours. dear sweet ethel deigns to let me in and explains that in the future, i will have to come before 5pm on a saturday. my blood starts to boil, but i let that slide.

then, i find that the dumbass that i spoke with earlier never processed my order, so now i have to wait. i am still relatively calm. i speak to ethel and explain to her that the last three times i have called in for the pills, the order has not been processed and i have had to wait. i thought as the office manager, she might like to know. i was perfectly calm and civil the whole time.

that's when she turns it around on me and explains that this all basically my fault and normally i should call 24 hours ahead of time, and not come in during emergency hours, etc.....

well, jelly done lost her little mind at this point. here's a recap of the earful i gave ethel.

"not ONCE have i EVER been told that it takes 24 hours and what difference would it make anyway since my order is never processed in the first place. and it is NOT my responsibilty to know what times i can and cannot pick up these pills. YOUR staff should have informed me of this when i called. it is NOT my fault that YOUR employees are incapable of transmitting this information."

i went on in that vein for a few minutes. then she looks at me and says, "thank you for letting me know." and she did not sound at all grateful. that's it. that's all she had to say. not "sorry you had to wait." not "sorry you were given the wrong info." just more snotty attitude.

i hate ethel and hope she gets a bad case of crabs.

Tuesday, June 07, 2005

I'm Confiscating Your Ovaries, So Hand 'Em Over, Butt Nugget

ok, so we know i am not a kid friendly person. i don't like 99% of the snot nosed little ankle biters and i like their parents even less. but, i can tolerate some kids. well behaved kids, specifically. my best friend and his wife have 3 fabulous daughters who are a joy to be around. they know how to behave in public, but not in that scary, overly disciplined "daddy's gonna beat me if i spill punch on my new dress" kind of way. and i am fully aware of the fact that the parent's are totally to blame when i see out of control demon spawn running thru the aisles of Target, screaming at the top of their lungs. so, blame the parents i shall. gladly.

i was once at a little cafe and was TRYING to enjoy my meal. i was sitting outside, happily munching away on my burger and reading a good book. my perfect kind of afternoon. well, it was perfect until the family that scares clive barker sat down at the table next to mine. mom, dad and two kids. the boy spawn was about 4 years old and his name was dakota. how do i know his name? keep reading.

dakota spends the majority of the meal throwing utensils, food and condiments all over the place. every time he did this, his idiot mother would say, in a voice barely above a whisper, "dakota, stop that, please." PLEASE? you don't ASK your 4 year old to behave, you tell him he better behave before you throw away EVERY SINGLE power ranger in his collection! so, this continues for about 20 minutes. then, i think the mom has finally grown a pair, because she tells him, "dakota, if you don't stop that right now, we are not going to go get ice cream." (i can't even add an exclamation point to the end of that sentence because her voice was incapable of being strong and authoratative.) but, i thought she was finally going to take charge here.

does the threat of no rocky road strike fear into little dakota's heart? no, it does not. he continues lobbing his fork across the table. and she actually carried thru with her threat and told him there would be no ice cream. dakota's bottom lip trembled, and tears filled his eyes. and then one fat, shiny tear slowly rolled down his cheek, glistening in the sun. oh, the award for Best Crying Toddler definitely goes to dakota for this one. take a bow, dakota, TAKE A BOW!

mom spots the tear. and this is where my head IMPLODED! she scoops him up in her loving arms and tells him, "oh, don't cry, honey. we'll still go get ice cream. don't cry." let's see, what has dakota learned today? there are NO consequences for my actions! yippe! i don't know about you, but i pity the girl that marries him in 20 years. Mrs. Dakota is going to be one these wives that starts nipping from the sherry bottle before lunchtime.

then there are the parents that i have to physically stop myself from smacking the shit out of. i am talking about the parents that feed their kids nothing but CRAP. these kid's poor bodies are still trying to develop strong bones and healthy teeth. well, not with Cap'n Idiot for a mom they aren't. i will be the first to admit that i am a fast food junkie. but, i am also an adult and these are my choices. i want to put junk in my body, well, it's my body. and besides, i'm 33 years old, it's not like i am expecting a growth spurt anytime soon. bring on the doritos!

every morning, i hit the drive thru at del taco for my bean burrito and diet coke. and it is almost guranteed that at least three times a week, i will see a car in the drive thru full of kids and mom is handing bags of food back to them. this is their breakfast? no eight year old needs macho nachos at 7am. i am no dr. spock, but even i can see that processed foodstuff are maybe not the healthiest choice for a growing lad. duh.

although, go to the food court at any mall, and you will see behavior ten times worse. (i am talking about the parent's behavior, now) i once saw a six year old there macking down on pizza, fries and a slurpee. that was lunch. hhhmmm, why is little madeline 50 pounds overweight? it's a mystery!

and if you then try to sue mcdonald's because THEY made your kid fat, be prepared for me to come to your house and beat you with a hot mop. ronald mcdonald never held a gun to my head and made me snarf down a big mac. well, there was that one time the hamburgler yelled at me, but that's a story for another day.

these dipshit parents are so afraid of being the bad guy, that won't dare say "no" to their kids. and then, after 18 years, they unleash these dysfunctional demons out into the dating pool. and my friends wonder why they can't meet any decent guys who aren't complete selfish bastards. yup, that's a puzzler.

Saturday, June 04, 2005

Come Out, Come Out Wherever You Are!

if you drive around my neighborhood, you might think we have a large korean population. you would be wrong. see, we have TONS of korean owned businesses. but i have lived here almost 4 years and have only ever seen one korean person, and that's my neighbor. the rest of them, well, fuck if i know where they are.

these places all have signs in english and korean out front. i stumbled into one of these all purpose korean pharmacy/gift store places awhile back. it was a blistering hot day and my hair was bugging me. so i went off in search of hair ties so i could put my hair in a ponytail. i went in and asked if they had any. to say i received a chilly reception would be an understatement. i was NOT welcome there. ok fine, no skin off my back. if i could read korean, i would have known that. the signs in english will be two or three words, something like "BBQ Bowl House." but, the korean part is lines and lines of text. i am pretty sure it translates into:

"please, all my korean brethern, come shop here and i will give you good food at good prices. we are one people and i will show my love by only charging you $2 for a teriyaki bowl. but whitey, oh, whitey is most certainly not welcome. he comes in and i will charge him $5 for the same teriyaki bowl and he will never know the difference. please join me in laughing at these fools. ha ha ha ha!"

so, these establishments are obviously catering to a korean clientele, but i never see any koreans around here. and trust me, i've looked. which leads me to the inevitable conclusion that they have built underground tunnels and use those to get around. they are mole people. well, do you have a better explanation? i first thought maybe they had gotten their hands on some of those Harry Potter invisibility cloaks, but that seemed ridiculous.

i also think they might be trying to kill us off. there is a restaurant near my house. the cuisine is advertised as Korean/Mexican food. just the thought of kim chee on my huevos rancheros makes me want to hork. a lot. i am desperately curious to see what this food looks like, but i just cannot bring myself to go there.

then there is this other place that advertises 50% off Sushi. ok, i love a bargain as much as the next gal, but there are some things in life that demand you pay full price.

here is my list of things that you should never bargain shop for:

1.) condoms
2.) pregnancy tests
3.) seafood

it's a short list, so it's fairly easy to remember. you are welcome.

so, in summary, the invisible koreans are trying to kill us all. you have been warned.

Wednesday, June 01, 2005


call me unhip. call me uncool. call me an old lady. i don't care. i have embraced my inner senior citizen and i have named her Edna. because i just have to say that i think is just about the stupidest fucking web site in the world. it is fucked up on so many levels. what is the point of it? some people say "friendship." well, i've got friends and they know how to email or call me. and they certainly don't need to see pictures of me. they know what i look like. and they already know my favorite books, bands and movies.

some say they are there for "networking." my definition of networking is making contacts that can further your career. i have yet to hear anyone say, "oh, i got my last job because the head of HR saw me on myspace. he really liked the picture of me flashing my boobs best of all." unless they work in a titty bar. then it's a whole different story, i guess.

and if they are on there for dating, go to eHarmony and find your perfect match. guaranteed.

i have seen a lot of people's pages on myspace and the stuff they put on there just boggles my mind. do you really want the whole world to know that you are an idiot? i saw one chick's profile and under favorite books she listed "n/a" Dear.God.In.Heaven. Not Applicable. She's not even bright enough to lie and just list some bullshit book she was forced to read in high school. and her favorite movies? the cinematic masterpieces that touch her soul? how to lose a guy in 10 days and serendipity. i'm just POSITIVE she is a rhodes scholar. i am sure of it!

and the pictures that these people post of themselves? first of all, if you expect me to believe those pics are real, then tell me more about that swampland you got for sale. because i have traveled all over this country and 99% of america's population is just flat out butt ugly. but somehow, on myspace, everyone has the body of a swimsuit model. hhmmm, wonder how that is? and then, on the flip side, i look at other photos and think, "this is the best pic you have of yourself?" because if i am going to put my pic online for the whole world to see, you can bet it's going to be a good one. it would be the one of me in the pink blouse holding the purple bunny statue and NOT the one where i look like jabba the hutt's uglier sister. but that's just me.

and what is the psychological payoff of the "friends list?" just to make you THINK you are popular? i saw one profile that had almost 500 friends listed. no body knows that many people. and if you did, how the hell would you keep all their names stright? there are only so many names in the world. "Samantha47, meet Dave89. He's friends with Brandy61. You know Brandy61. No, the girl with the overbite and the small nose is Brandy62! Brandy61 is the girl that slept with Roger56 and Johnathan39! Got it? Good."

eck, maybe i'm just getting old. but i really just don't understand kids today. pass the prunes.