Monday, November 13, 2006

There Is a Very Good Reason Why I Haven't Updated

i have been working on a new project. that's why!

MY PODCAST

(ok, i am so not a techno geek. if that link or the link to the left don't work, go to iTunes and look up "reality tv roundup" - that's the best i can do.)

i have started a podcast talking about reality tv, knitting and whatever else pops up into my head.

Episode 2 is going up tonite and i will be using this blog to post show notes and links to other sites i ramble on about. in the 2nd episode, i talk about going to a fashion show that Tim Gunn from Project Runway hosted and HERE is a link to a short bit of video i captured during his and Angela's Q&A before the show.

i am not abandoning the blog altogether, but i just find it easier to talk than type most days. if i capture a pic of something i find really absurd, rest assured, it will be blogged.

i hope you like it!

Saturday, September 23, 2006

Post Office Theater - The Matinee

my mom and i share a house and we have our own division of labor that works well for us. she does the yardwork and i balance the checkbook. she handles calling repair guys and i promise not to attempt to cook, thus not burning the house to the ground. she does most of the housework and i run most of errands, like grocery shopping, paying bills in person and going to the post office. now, i hate going to the post office, but i hate mopping even more, so it's the lesser of two evils for me. (speaking of which - mom, the entertainment center is looking a little dusty. get on that, would ya?)

so, this afternoon, i had to go to the post office to mail two packages for her. i walked in and saw a customer arguing with one of the clerks. now, there is nothing i love more than watching people make asses of themselves in public, so this put a little spring in my step. i got in line and this argument was already well under way, but i was able to catch up fairly quickly. the customer had purchased a few postal money orders and now decided he didn't need them after all and he wanted his money back. the woman at the counter told him he could get his money back, but that did not include the processing fee. that was nonrefundable.

he was FURIOUS! and outraged that they would not refund this fee. how much money was this guy out to incite such rage? would he not be able to make his rent this month? would the kiddos go to bed hungry tonight because daddy wouldn't have enough for the happy meal? those must be some steep fees.

then the clerk said, "sir, you can get all your money back, but the 95 cent processing fee is not refundable."

95 cents.

so, they go back and forth, and everyone in line is riveted by this asshole and his 95 cents. the argument escalates and the clerk threatened to call the authorities at one point. he backed down after that.

that's when the clerk asked if he lives in (insert name of my city). he said he did and she asked to see his ID. when he handed it over, she asked if the address was current. after he confirmed it was, she proceedes to write down his name and address.

i turned to the guy next to me in line and said, "he is never getting his mail EVER. AGAIN. in fact, i think he will be getting all of our junk mail from now on."

the downside to this little spectacle was the fact that mister 95 cents was hispanic. i am mexican-american and was raised in the mexican culture. so, when i see hispanics acting like ignorant fools i just cringe and think, "you are making the rest of us look bad, asshole." then i figure they are probably puerto rican. and don't anybody jump my ass for that last comment. in the hispanic cultures, the brazillians look down on the mexicans, the mexicans look down on the puerto ricans and the puerto ricans look down on the salvadoreans. it's just the way it is.

on a side note, i took this pic outside the post office.

Example

nothing had been freshly painted, certainly not the goddamned window. why was this sign there? it is still bugging me.

Sunday, September 17, 2006

Fat Kids, Dead Dogs and Cheap Ass Beer - A Photo Essay

Example

this is an actual school that is near my house. can you see the name of the school? yes, the Lewis Carroll Academy. looks to me like someone didn't do their homework. opening soon next door, the Michael Jackson Day Care Center.



Example

words on the ass of your pants or shorts are never a good idea. ever. sparkly words are grounds for capital pinishment as far as i am concerned. i spend most of my life making sure people aren't looking at my ass, so i don't understand why anyone would want someone else to actually read theirs.

the worst offense i ever saw was in iowa, land of the large women. we saw a gal that was easily a size 24, wearing blue sweat pants that read "baby girl" across her ample ass. this was made worse by the fact that basically there was one word on each ass cheek. and when she walked, her ass cheeks and the words moved up and down in tandem. it was dizzying to watch. yet, also mesmerizing. just say no to ass cheek art, gals.



Example

i took this picture in an elevator in cancun last month. look at the stick figure family at the bottom. dad looks normal enough. sadly, mom is a peg leg. and the little boy is a tub! he looks like Violet Beauregarde after she ate the blueberry gum. poor, fat little junior.



Example

ok, now this is just 12 kinds of fucked up and wrong. Old Yeller Dog Food. who would feed that to their dog? i fully expected to see Mama Cass Brand Sliced Ham in the next aisle. which is three aisles down from the Karen Carpenter laxatives.



Example

here's how you can tell i was at the gross, ghetto Sav-On yesterday. on it's own grand display, for all to see, was Pabst Blue Ribbon beer, Old Milwaukee and Old Milwaukee Light beer. topped off with generic label cheez-its. i hauled ass out of there because i was scared to death that i might run into one of my paternal relatives.

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

Weird Things That Have Been in my Dog's Mouth Lately

first off, sorry that it has been so long since my last post. i could give you some sob story about how crazy my job has been, how tired i have been, blah, blah, blah. but let's be honest. the new season of Big Brother started last month and i can't tear myself away from the live feeds. apparently, watching Janelle color her roots at 12 midnight takes precedence over, well, everything else in my life. don't worry, i am fully aware of how pathetic that is, but the first step is admitting that your addiction has ruined other aspects of your life. but i ain't giving up the feeds. i am not a quitter.

anyway, back to the topic at hand.

my dog, Daphne, loves persimmons. that much we learned last year when she ate the 12,000 persimmons that fell from our tree.

Example

there is not a fruit she will not eat. she is an equal opportunity fructose addict. except for the grapes in the pic. my mom did some research and found out grapes are lethal for dogs. who knew? so, no grapes for her. but all other fruits are fair game. a few weeks ago i was cutting up a pineapple and she damn near wrestled me to the ground for it. but i put up a good fight because a friend of mine smuggled that pineapple back from hawaii just for me. she can get her own law breaking friends.

i now have to eat my fruit locked away in a different room, otherwise she might pull out a stun gun and taser my ass to get at my watermelon. she's hardcore like that.

then there is the wood. god help me, the fucking wood. the dog will eat wood all day if we let her. hand to god, i have caught her chewing on the actual house more than once. the $1300 worth of bones, ropes, kongs, and balls that we have bought at PetCo are nothing to her. she wants lumber.

a few weeks ago, my mom trimmed the trees in our yard and left a lot the branches on the ground. now, before anyone accuses me of being a bitch for making my mom do the yardwork, please note that she likes it. and i run a lot of her errands for her, so it's a trade off. trust me, the woman has not seen the inside of a post office in about 10 years.

but, back to the branches. the dogs thought xmas had come early.


Example

i can't wait until she figures it out and just starts gnawing directly on the trees themselves. how much wood would a pit/lab mix chuck if a lab/mix could chuck wood? we'll find out soon enough, i guess.


then there are the possums. yes, the fucking possums.


a few weeks ago, i let the dogs out for one last run at 10pm. while i was in the kitchen, i looked out the window and saw Daphne running in the yard with something in her mouth. the porch light was not on, so i couldn't see what she had. knowing she is a laundry thief, i thought she had stolen one of my sweaters off the washing machine. so, i went outside and called her to me. as she ran towards me, she activated the motion lights. the light comes blaring on and i see she has a live, medium sized possum in her mouth.

Example

my scream was heard in 7 different time zones.

she had it by the torso, so the head and tail were hanging out of the sides of her mouth. interestingly enough, the possum was actually "playing possum." i was afraid that it would start fighting back, so i knew i had to get it away from her.

i ran in the house, grabbed a box and went out back again. i had to stand in front of her and use my high pitched, playful voice and ask her to drop the possum. choking back the screams, i stood out there, begging her, "drop the possum. give momma the possum."

miraculously, she did. the possum hit the ground, rallied for a moment and that is when i slammed the box down over it. then, i managed to get the dogs in their kennel. but i still had a possum in a box to deal with. i called my mom, who i knew was on her way home, to see how far away she was because i didn't think i could handle this by myself. she suggested i move the box to the far side of the yard, open the fence and shove it out that way. but i couldn't open the fence, so i had to wait for her to get home. me and my box o' possum. she finally got home and we managed to get the gate open and scooted the box across the yard and got it to the other side of fence.

after that, i opened a brand new bottle of Stoli and stuck a straw in it. yes, my dog has driven me to drink.

then 2 weeks ago, i was on the phone with my friend, Martha Jean, when i heard my mom screaming. i hung up, ran outside and saw the Daphne had captured another possum. how fucking stupid and slow are these animals? jesus christ, don't they talk amongst themselves? "hey, marty, stay away from the yard with the 2 dogs. the black and white one will catch your furry ass faster than you can say Possums Rule. seriously, dude, she's quick like that."

i'm thinking of buying the dog a muzzle. i can't take any more of this.

Monday, June 26, 2006

I Can't Make This Shit Up

my granny was just here and she wanted to watch her novella (spanish soap opera). these shows are notoriously over the top. soneone is always a whore, someone always has a secret past, someone is always undercover as a nun and someone is always someone else's long lost child that they gave up for adoption. tonight's episode was no exception.

now, my granny assumes i give a flying rat's ass about this show (sorry, i don't) and proceeds to narrate for me. these sentences actually came out of her mouth:

"oooo, she has a brain tumor."

"she's nice. everyone likes her. after the circus broke up, she took in all the circus people."

then she said something about someone's earrings but honestly, i didn't catch the whole thing. at that point i was in the kitchen trying to slit my wrists with a butter knife.

Monday, June 12, 2006

Knitters, Strippers and Angry Dads - Just Another Sunday Afternoon at Joann Fabrics

on sunday afternoon i went to my local joann Fabrics because i needed some knitting needles. and, yes, i did need them. i actually did not have size 6 double pointed needles, thank you very much. when i entered the store, i noticed that only one register was open and there was one customer. they were obviously having problems finding the correct price of the item she wanted. i didn't give it a second thought, and went on my merry way.

after i grabbed my needles and spent a few minutes perusing the yarn aisles, i went up front to pay for my needles. they were STILL working with the same customer. and now, there was another customer in line behind her. this made me third in line. while the fracas continued at the register, i amused myself by looking at the customer in line ahead of me.

where to start? well, let's start at the top. a weave the like of which i haven't seen since janet jackson's "velvet rope" tour circa 1986. moving down, i could not help but notice the cheap polyester halter top atop the painted on acid wash jeans. this outfit was completed by her 4 inch high stripper shoes. plastic stripper shoes. everything about her screamed "dancer at Secret Desires down by the railroad tracks." but then i thought i was being judgemental, and it was just as possible that she worked at an office or WalMart. i chided myself for being a snotty bitch and then i noticed that the line had grown and now 8 people were waiting and they were STILL helping the first customer.

everyone in line behind me was doing the "i'm pissed off but not about to speak up" sigh. taking the bull by the horns, i asked the cashier to call for help and open a second register. and i swear i asked as nicely as i could at the moment.

the next cashier comes, and tells the FauxStripper that she will ring her up because she was next in line. but then she asks FauxStripper how she is paying because her register doesn't have one dollar bills.

hand to god, the NotSoFauxStripper says earnestly, "oh, i have lots of singles!" i bet you do, honey and i bet i know where they have been.

as i made my move to get in the newly opened lane, someone tried to cut in front of me. it was a father there with his young daughter and they were buying supplies for a school project for her. the father was one of the pissed of "sighers" but i will be damned if he was going to cut in line. i said, a smidge loudly, "oh, i do believe i was next." i was the only one there with the balls to speak up, and this dipshit thought he was going to go ahead of me? oh, guess again, weekend daddy. guess again.

so, i finally paid for my purchase after the NotSoFauxStripper. but i paid with my debit card because no way in hell was i going to risk getting back one of her singles in my change. i don't need to get an STD from some fucking dollar bill.

Thursday, June 08, 2006

El Gringo

los angeles has a huge hispanic population and about 30% of them are related to me. i don't speak spanish, but i understand it a bit and can get by. even the non-hispanics here know at least a few words. well, most non-hispnaics.

the other day i was at my favorite mexican restaurant and in front of me were 4 very white teenage boys. so white in fact, that i am will to bet at least one of them was named Skip. i could hear them ordering and one boy mangled the spanish language so badly that it took me a minute to figure out what the hell he was ordering.

here is a phonetic replication of his order:
"i would like a POLE-O DEE A-SAD-A burrito."

ok, Skip, i don't expect everyone to know how to pronounce asada, but c'mon! have you never seen an El Pollo Loco commercial? it's POY-O, for christ's sake. i would love to see him try to order a Chile Relleno.

Thursday, June 01, 2006

Thank God She's Cute

Example


even though the dogs are sisters from the same litter, they do have 2 very distinct personalities. Daphne, the one in front, is charming, but not real bright. Roxy, in the back, is smarter and much more dominant. this makes for some fun days at Chez Jelly. and by "fun" i mean "freaking exhausting."

a few Saturdays ago, i was asleep and was woken by the sound of my mom calling for Roxy. i cracked one eye open, saw that it was only 7am and promptly tried to go back to sleep. it takes a lot to get me out of bed before noon on a Saturday. then i heard her continue to call for Roxy and was mildly irritated that the dog wasn't coming when she was called. then my mom yells for me that she can't find Roxy and needs my help. i shot out of bed like my ass was on fire and ran to the backyard.

we have a high, wooden fence in the backyard and each side overlooks a different neighbor's backyard. so, we grabbed the step stool and peeked over all the fence sides, calling Roxy's name. the whole time, Daphne is following us and peeking thru the fence as if Roxy might be over there. when we ascertained that Roxy wasn't in any neighbor's yards, mom said she would get in the car and circle the block. now, we live on a busy, busy street. we didn't say it, but we both knew she would basically be looking for a brown smudge in the road.

mom takes off and i continue to call for Roxy, the panic growing by the second. i wandered back into the kitchen and saw the milk on the counter. (mom still hasn't gotten on board with refrigerating the dairy products. this is an issue with us.) but when i saw the milk, i realized that our fridge is in the garage (don't ask. long story) and knew that Roxy liked to follow her in there. the little, dim lightbulb went off above my head and i ran to the garage and flung open the door. sure enough. Roxy was there, tail wagging, having a grand old time playing by herself in the garage.

i turned to Daphne and said, "well, you are Fucking Useless. you knew she was in here the whole time and yet, still ran around the yard with us. never once did you run to the garage door and bark a la "Lassie's letting us know Timmy is in the well. Fucking Uselss."

she now answers to F.U.

Monday, May 22, 2006

There is a Reason They Call it the "Y" Chromosome

ok, so we all know men are from mars and women are from venus. we are different species destined to never understand the other. i am not going to delve into the cliches of men never asking for directions or women asking if these jeans make her look fat. but, there is truth in those cliches. men make about as much sense to women as katie holmes willingly giving birth to the CruiseSpawn.

that being said, we do manage to co-exist on a day to day basis without too many scuffles. but then, you will see something that is so completely testostorone driven that if defies description. that is when photos become necessary.



Example


yup, fake balls hanging from a car. i GUAR-AN-DAMN-TEE you that you will never see a woman driving around with fake ovaries hanging off the back of her mazda miata. they say never say never, well, i am saying never.

i snapped that pic while in the drive thru line at del taco. and since Senor Dipshit (see about 3 posts down) is still running the drive thru at the speed of molasses, i had plenty of time to ponder the fake nads. the conclusion that i came to was that the faux nuts were the latex equivalent of someone that wants so desperately to believe something about themselves, that they repeat it constantly, despite the fact that it is completely untrue. think david brent of the UK version of "The Office" or michael scott in the american version. he is so spectacularly unfunny, yet constantly tells people how he is a master of comedy. the big, fake balls are the same thing. any guy driving around with those has less testicular mass than lance armstrong coming out of a cold shower.

and just having finished watching the season finale of "24" i can say without a shadow of a doubt that Jack Bauer would NEVER drive around with fake balls on his car. and yes, i'm saying never.

Saturday, May 13, 2006

Gauchos Be Gone!!

Dear Lady in Front of Me in Line at Best Buy Today,

as is the norm of saturdays, the line at my local Best Buy was long. so i had to plenty of time to observe and i have a little feedback for you. and obviously you need it as no one has ever told you some of these basic truths. first, let's start with your hair. now, you had a lovely Coach bag and your keychain was hanging off it so i could plainly see your Mercedes Benz car key. this leads me to belive that you are probably not living in the ghetto and clipping coupons for Top Ramen, that being said, how is it that you cannot afford a $4 bottle of hair conditioner? dry, frizzy hair with 2 inch roots is not pretty. take note.

your daughter was there with you and she appeared to be about 7 years old and about 30 pounds overweight. have you not seen the childhood diabetes commericals? i have. they are on tv every 5 minutes. pay attention to them and stop killing your child with twinkies. that's an order.

and why was she dressed like a mini, rotund hooker? Prostitot Chic is so last year. her cropped, skintight tank and ruffled miniskirt offically qualify her as the youngest "fat girl in skinny clothes" that the Unholy Smell has ever seen. but to your credit, at least there were no words across her ass like "JUICY" or "HOT STUFF." because at that point i would have called Child Protective Services on you. i would have done it in a heartbeat.

back to you. the gauchos. dear lord in heaven, the freaking gauchos. have you not seen these on other people? they look good on maybe 2% of the population. you are not in that 2%. not by a long shot. that knit jersey fabric clings to every lump and bump on your ass. why not just shine a klieg light on your butt and wear a t-shirt that says, "i love doritos and have the ass to prove it!" and be done with it? those gauchos weren't doing you any favors, so do yourself a favor and burn the fucking things.

i'm only here to help.

Love,
Jelly

Tuesday, May 02, 2006

Law & Order, Ebay and Yahoo

how many episodes of Law & Order can you watch in one day? well, i am pretty sure i watched 30 of them last saturday. granted, i slept 10 hours that day and was out running errands for 4 hours, leaving me only 10 hours of tv watching time, but it felt like 30 episodes.

thank god for USA and the TNT Networks. between the 2 of them , i can watch Law & Order (the original), Law & Order SVU and Law & Order Criminal Intent all damn day. and i have. now, before you think me a total slacker, i have watched said episodes whilst knitting. i think i took up knitting to justify my TV watching time. see, i'm not just watching TV, i being productive! i am CREATING things, and i just happen to be satisfying my TV crime show addiction at the same time. if "Cold Case" ever comes out on DVD i am never leaving the house. but i sure will get a lot of knitting done! and god knows i have enough yarn to last me. but the compulsive yarn buying is a whole nother story.

of all of them, Law & Order SVU is my favorite. Christoher Meloni plays Det. Stabler and he is a dedicated cop who sometimes crosses the line, but he does it because he wants to gets the scumbag perps off the streets. a ragtag hero with a heart of gold. but sometimes, that kind of freaks me out. see, Dick Wolf, the mastermind of the Law & Order franchise is also the mastermind behind the now defunct HBO prison series, "Oz." and Dick Wolf likes to use the same actors in all his series. on "Oz" Mr. Meloni played Keller, a mean motherfucker that would not hestitate to anally rape a newbie in the shower and then bash his head in to keep him from squealing. not exactly hero material. sometimes, when watching him play Det. Stabler, i flash back to his days on "Oz" and scream at the tv, "look out! he's got a shiv!" then i realize he is only reaching for his badge. it can be quite the roller coaster ride for me.

whenver i want to watch an episode, i just hop over to Yahoo! TV Listings and check to see what is playing. well, i used to anyway. until a few weeks ago when Yahoo! added that goddamned Bounty commercial to every TV and news page. as i always have my speakers on, i was getting assaulted by that fucking commercial at least 6 times a day. i have switched over to MSN TV Listings. it's a lot quieter. just to be ornery, i now refuse to buy Bounty ever again. the quicker picker upper can bite my ass. it's me and the Brawny guy all the way from now on. TAKE THAT YOU OVERZEALOUS MARKETING MORONS! besides, i think the Brawny guy has nice forearms.

during the commercial breaks, i hop on the lap top and check my ebay bids. this week i have lost 5, yes, count them, FIVE ebay auctions. and why have i lost them? because i refuse to pay retail price for yarn on ebay, that's why! this is a huge pet peeve of mine. to me, ebay is supposed to be like one big yard sale. if it's new you pay more, and if it's used, it better not smell too funky. these people are not running a store, they are not paying employees, workman's comp insurance and a lease. they are selling the stuff out of their basement! and they don't even have to pay a webmaster because ebay does all the work for them! if i am going to pay retail price, i am going to do it at my LYS (that's "local yarn store" for those of my non-fiber obssessed readers). these jerkwads on ebay just piss me off! get a REAL business and i will pay your REAL prices.

speaking of internet shopping, i got a WONDERFUL new perfume today. i ordered it from Sephora and it's called Clean Ultimate. it's a very clean, crisp, springtime scent. i literally cannot stop sniffing myself. gals, get you some. it's good.

see, i can be happy sometimes. it just takes an $80 bottle of perfume to do it. but if my granny asks, we're telling her it only cost $25. she freaks out about stuff like that. i also have her convinced that kate spade purses only cost $30, on sale. sometimes it is just easier to lie than watch her stroke out.

Friday, April 28, 2006

I Am SO Over Today

it's not even 8:30am and i am ready to call it quits today. it's just been "one of those mornings." and now i am going to whine about it, so if you have a low whining threshold, you might want to skip over this and just go directly to cuteoverload.com and look at puppies.

technically, i should have been able to sleep an extra 30 minutes this morning. somehow, my dog did not get cc'ed on that memo. at 6:15am she was beating the crap out of me because she wanted to get an early start on her day of chewing bits of wood off the side of my house, tormenting her sister and licking herself inappropriately. so, she bumps me with her nose. now, this is not a gentle, loving nudge. no, she does her impersonation of a battering ram and puts all her weight behind it. repeatedly. until i wake up, stumble to the doors and let her out. so, great, there goes my plan to sleep in. i figure i am already up, so i might as well get ready for work. that was fairly uneventful. thank god.

until i get to my car and realize i forgot to bring out the trash. so i grab my car keys AND my house keys and go back inside to get the trash bag. mission accomplished and keys in hand, i close the front door behind me. and .0008 seconds after that door closed, i realized my house keys were not in my hand. only my car keys.

"oh, no problem." i think, "i'll just grab the spare keys that we keep in the (blank)" *that's me trying to be all safety conscious and stealth. i am not about to tell the world where we keep those spare keys. someone might come in and steal my yarn, then i would be REALLY pissed.*

so, i go to (blank) and the keys aren't there. which means they are probably inside the house doing me not a whole hell of a lot of good. brilliant. i figure i will just go to work and deal with the key situation later tonight when i get home.

off on my less than merry little way, i swing into DelTaco just like i do every morning and order the exact same thing i order every morning. i understand that drive thru speakers aren't exactly Dolby Sound, so i always make sure to enunciate as clearly as possible. this is a wasted effort on my part. i could scream into the speaker, "PARIS HILTON IS A DISEASED WHORE!" and i have an equal chance of getting what i ordered.

for the last five days straight, yes, FIVE DAYS IN A FREAKIN' ROW, this moron has fucked up my order. and it's not that hard and it's not like i am special ordering anything. it's very simple. a small green burrito and a medium diet soda. that is EXACTLY how i order it every morning. and every morning he repeats it back to me as, "a small green burrito and a small coke." and every morning i dream about shoving a hot poker up his ass.

so, we go back and forth for a few minutes with the "i ordered a MEDIUM DIET soda." and the "you want a small coke?" routine that we do. at this point i am sure i am on candid camera, but they are never going to be able to use the footage because i am obviously thisclose to jumping out of my car, wriggling thru the drive thru window and shoving this guy's balls into the deep fryer. you want hot sauce with THAT, asshole?

if anyone is looking for me, i plan on spending the rest of the day under my desk, in the fetal position, sucking on a bottle of Stoli.

Tuesday, April 25, 2006

Why I Need Therapy: Reason 45,296

my granny is 76 years old. she is an energetic, sharp, vibrant 76 years old. but she's not what the media would have you believe. she's not one of those comical grannies like you see in the movies who talks about snoop dog and and internet dating, but she's pretty cool nonetheless.

i enjoy spending time with her and just hanging out. she taught me everything i know about gambling and quite frankly, she has a more happening social life than i do. it's not unusual to talk to her late sunday morning and find out she slept in because she went to not one, but two parties the night before. yes, she's quite the social butterfly.

then there are days where i wish i was adopted.

recently she got one of those fancy Craftmatic type beds that has the massager, heat and adjustable settings. actually, she got it from her mother who turned 100 years old last week. her mother is in a rest home now, so granny got this almost new bed from her. anyway, i was at her house and i was trying out all the bells and whistles on the bed. i was laying there futzing with the remote control and i remarked that this bed was just a fancier version of those vibrating beds that you find in cheap motels. that's when she decided to tell me a story and i decided to go to the happy place in my head.

she said, "one time, your grandfather and i were at a motel that had one of those vibrating beds-"

"granny, please stop talking."

"-and i put two quarters in the machine-"

"granny, please, i am begging you. stop."

"-and nothing happened-"

"granny, did you hear that noise? that was the sound of my mind snapping."

"-but then, at one in the morning, all of a sudden, it kicked in-"

"someone. anyone. please kill me now. my granny is telling me about her and my grandfather and a vibrating bed in a motel. i want to die."

"-and it just scared us half to death."

"help me."

Wednesday, April 19, 2006

Random Crap That Is Pissing Me Off Today

1.) i can't believe i even have to say this, but 55 year old white women CANNOT pull off cornrows. and this isn't some random rule i just pulled out of my ass. no, i actually saw this with my own two eyes today. and the cornrows even had the cheesy, brightly colored plastic beads at the end of them. this look didn't work on bo derek 20 years ago and it sure as hell doesn't work now. ten years from now, this woman is gonna get a bitchin' new haircut called the Rachel and she will just think she is the shit!

2.) people, shut the fuck up about the price of gas. if i hear one more person bitch about the price of gas i am going to start huffing it. then, the constant whining will fade into the background like the sound of the charlie brown teacher, WOHM WOHM WOHM, and i can live in peace once again. i mean, really, is it putting that big a dent in your pocketbook? i fill up once a week, and i put in about 10 gallons. so, even if gas SHOOTS up 30 cents per gallon, that only an extra 3 bucks a week. and i ain't sweating 3 bucks. if that extra 3 bucks is really crimping your budget, here's an idea, skippy.....cut back on the 4 dollar starbucks venti latte double foam no whip soy frappucino grandes. and why is no one bitching about the price of starbucks? that stuff is like 40 bucks a gallon.

3.) for over a year now, my friend, Jen, has been bugging me to learn to knit socks so i can knit her some. i didn't want to because i hate double pointed knitting needles and well, they looked hard. but, i finally caved and knit my first pair last week. OH.MY.GOD. they are SO much fun! and of course, being the overly enthusiastic knitter that i am, i have spent $100 on sock yarn in the last week. i will be knitting socks for months. and the irony? i wear open toed shoes 360 days a year. guess what everyone is getting for xmas?

4.) if i barely know and/or barely like you, don't call me "dear" or "sweetie." and don't do it every 5 seconds. it sets my teeth on edge, then i start fantasizing about ways to torture you with a hot mop and lose track of the conversation at hand. then you have to repeat everything, and in the process, you will call me "dearie" ten more times and so the vicious cycle begins.

5.) if you are at a casino, and there is a smoking and a non smoking section, and you are a non smoker who CHOOSES to sit in the smoking section, DO NOT , i repeat, DO NOT sit next me, doing the fake cough, waving your hands in front of your face, glaring at my marlboro the whole time. that doesn't make me put out my smoke. it just makes me chain smoke. and then i will follow you from slot machine to slot machine, puffing away the whole time. yeah, i'm a bitch like that.

6.) SUV'S ARE NOT COMPACT CARS AND DO NOT FIT IN COMPACT SPACES. hey, asshole, no one forced you to buy a car the size of my house. go park in a space that is big enough for your tank and leave the rest of us law abidding citizens alone. ooooo, you have to walk an extra thirty yards to get from the back of the lot to the front door of the grocery store? boo freakin' hoo. next time, buy a VW bug. and these are the same dipshits that are complaining about the high price of gas. you all have pissed me off so much, you made it onto today's list twice. and if your hair is cornrowed, then you have set a new world's record by being on here 3 times. but don't feel bad. i have enough petty hatred to go around.

Thursday, April 13, 2006

Oy,These Kids and Their Music!!

my post the other day about JackFM got me to thinking about music in general and i realized that i really have no clue what is going on in popular music today, for the most part. i tend to listen to my Duran Duran Greatest Hits cd and maybe some Thompson Twins to shake things up. see, even when i try to listen to popular music on the radio, it seems i am stymied. hand to god, everytime i turn on our Star radio station they are playing that godawful "You're Beautiful" song. that's this year's love song? is this the song all the frat boys are learning to play on guitar so they can use it to dupe drunk freshmen girls out of their virginity? it's the musical equivalent of CheezWhiz. it's manufactured for the masses, processed and provides instant gratification. but no one remembers that awesome Jalepeno CheezWhiz they had five years ago.just like no one will remember this song in five years.

so, i scampered over to iTunes to see what the top songs are nowadays. and i am kind of sorry i did. "Unwritten" by Natasha Somebody. oh, just shoot me now. i hate that supposedly motivational crap. i guarantee you right now, the next time we see that song it will be in some horrible teen movie. it's too mellow to be used during an "athlete in training to win the big game" montage, but i could see it being used in some movie about a nerdy girl who comes out of her shell, becomes a sexy little minx, all while still leading the Mathletes to victory. that song would SO be played during her "makeover/studying" montage.

then there is "Bad Day" by Daniel Powter. isn't this the song they play on American Idol when someone gets booted off the show? let's see, your ONE BIG chance at stardom is GONE! POOF! you are now on the fast-track to "Reality TV Has Been" status. you will forever be known as the singer that was WORSE than Ace. so, yeah, i guess you could say you had a "bad day."

at the bottom of the list, but still on the Top Ten is "Beep" by the Pussycat Dolls. god, the talent, the emotions, the vocal ranges, the years these girls must have spent taking voice lessons and training and opera and choir. they MUST have graduated from Julliard, no? i'm sorry? what? they didn't? shocking. just shocking. oh, they trained at the "gentleman's club" by the airport.? my bad.

the current state of pop music today just sucks ass. it really does. ten years ago, we had some great songs. "You Oughta Know" by Alanis Morrisette. i mean, that is THE SINGLE GREATEST BREAKUP SONG IN THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD. there are a million "oh, baby, i can't live without you. why did you break my heart?" songs. but this was the first song to really tap into the rage of a breakup. the part of you that would pay good money to see your ex burned alive in an industrial accident. it taps into the part of you drives around the streets near his house, hoping you see him, just so you can run his sorry ass over. THAT is great music, people.

am i the only one that remembers and still listens to the band Live? "Lightning Crashes" ringing a bell for you there? hands down, the greatest song ever to use the word 'placenta' in the lyrics. don't think i'm right? i dare you to find a better song with that word in it. it can't be done.

remember when No Doubt was new and Gwen was cute in that skater girl way? i miss those days. now she is this fashion icon, carrying Gavin's baby and she has that weird Japanese posse. and what's this fucking song she sings about "If I Were A Rich Girl?" bitch, you ARE rich. and i don't appreciate you rubbing it in my face like that. and i'm sorry gwen, but if i hear "Hollaback Girl" one more time, i will drive my car into a brick wall just to make it stop. it's not a song, it's a fucking cheer. there is a difference.

*jelly walks away humming "The Reflex"*

Tuesday, April 11, 2006

She Doesn't Understand "SIT" But Dick Jokes, Those She Understands

of the Two Assasins, aka my dogs Daphne and Roxie, only one of them really watches tv and that's Roxie. and not just when there are other dogs on tv. no, she is also enthralled by American Justice and one day i found her watching Columbo. she is very interested in tv and i think i caught her reprogramming my TiVo the other day. well, i sure as hell don't recall recording Footballer's Wives, so it must have been her. she obviously has a taste for the dramatic.

now, Daphne on the other hand. rarely pays attention to the tv. i think she is more the literary type, maybe. while i am at work all day she composes haikus extolling the virtues of kibble and Nylabones. then she eats the haikus. so, i never actually see the poetry, but i have to believe she has talents other than stealing my socks out of the laundry basket.

anywho, last night i was on the couch watching "An Evening With Kevin Smith." this is not the first time i have seen it, but it was Daphne's first time. because i have heard it before i was not laughing out loud or doing anything else that Daphne would be reacting to. i was sitting quietly and knitting. she, on the other hand, was RIVETED by him, just RIVETED. her eyes never left the screen.

at one point, Kevin Smith is telling the story of the first time her had sex with his now wife. and in classic Kevin Smith style, it's detailed and raunchy. when he gets to the part about his wife dry humping him so hard that the zipper in his jeans mangled his dick, that's when Daphne started wildly wagging her tail and barking at the tv. it takes Kevin about 6 minutes to tell the story and the whole time she is wag wag wagging her tail. i mean, i have to applaud her good taste as i am obviously a Kevin Smith fan myself, but the dick jokes? really? that's what floats her boat?

if i come tonight to find her watching my "Clerks" DVD she is going to be in big trouble.

Tuesday, April 04, 2006

Getting Jacked

a little over a year ago, we got a new radio station in los angeles called JackFM. i know they are starting them in other cities all over the country, so if you have one, you know the joy that is Jack. if you don't, well it sucks to be you.

this station plays the most scizophrenic mix of music, but it is all songs you love. within one hour you will exclaim at least 4 times, "oh my god! i LOVE that song! i haven't heard it in forever!"

on a recent morning, they played these songs back to back:

girls, girls, girls by motley crue
true by spandau ballet
heard it thru the grapevine by marvin gaye
livin' on a prayer by bon jovi
nothing compares 2 u by sinead oconner

this is just MADNESS! on a scale of one to Courtney Love, they get an eight!

so many of these songs just take me RIGHT BACK to very particular times in my life. the other day they played "welcome to the jungle" and that song IS my senior year of high school. it is me and my friends ditching school (sorry, mom), driving around hollywood blvd, smoking cigarettes and listening to heather tell us all about her sex life. hey, mom, at least i was still a virgin and just living vicariously thru her. take your pride where you can find it.

then there is "the boy with the thorn in his side" by The Smiths. oh my god, that is me at 15, listening to that album on my turntable, clutching the record sleeve and just SOBBING because no one understood my teen agnst like Morrissey. he REALLY REALLY understood me.

which of course, takes us directly to "blasphemous rumours" by Depeche Mode. oh, that song was just so deep. the girl wants to commit suicide and then she finds a reason to live and gets hit by a bus and ends up on a life support machine. oh, the tragedy, the pathos, the PAIN. it was just SO VERY philosophical. we didn't need Socrates, we had Depeche mode. ok, it was the 80's, i was 16, that was as deep as i got.

on to happier times....."end of the innocence" by don henley. (mom STOP READING NOW and DO NOT read this to granny) ah yes, that song is me making out with the hottest guy i ever dated. and we were both stone cold sober, so i have no clue why he was dating me, but i didn't ask too many questions. i was just enjoying the ride. we didn't actually have sex, and god knows, if we had, my head would have actually burst into flames. memories of that night got me thru many a dry spell. good times. good times. yeah, you might need to give me a minute here.

where was i?

oh, that radio station.

that's it.

when they play "are you gonna go my way?" by Lenny Kravitz, i am 25 years old again, back at the Rainbow on Sunset Blvd, drunker than humanly possible and dancing my ass off with my friends. you never had to worry about being "falling down drunk" on that dance floor because it was always so crowded, you could not fall down. it was wall to wall people and if you lost your footing, you just swayed a little and the 45 bodies around you kept you propped up. and that was only after 2 drinks. see, the Rainbow is nortorious for making the stongest, nastiest drinks in all of LA. so, of course, we were there 3 nights a week. you order a screwdriver there and the bartender pours vodka, vodka and more vodka into a tall glass. then he adds just a spritz of orange juice.

ah, nostalgia. i'm gonna go dust off my Cure albums now and put on some smudgy, black eyeliner.

Monday, March 27, 2006

Tears of a Clown

next to me are 8, yes, count them, 8, soggy, sodden, snot filled kleenex. now you are probably asking yourself, what brought on such a crying jag?

did someone near and dear to me pass away?

no.

did i lose my left hand in a tragic paper shredding accident, thus rendering me unable to knit ever again?

no.

did someone change the constitution so that bush can now run for a 3rd term?

no.

i just finished watching "Billy Elliot" for the 3,872nd time. and i cried just as hard as i did the first 3,871 times. i start blubbering about an hour into that movie and just do not stop. if you ever want me to burst into tears on the spot, just utter this one line. when Billy is leaving, and his little gay friend, Michael, stands on the wall and yells, "Oy! Dancing boy!" at that point i am crying so hard that i lose my vision and stop breathing.

sounds a little dramatic, i know, but i have always had strong reactions to sad movies. and even some not so sad ones. when i was little i HAD TO see every Benji movie. and my mother dreaded those movies like paris hilton dreads a pap smear. i would just BAWL all the way thru those movies. and she would sit there with me in the theater, passing me kleenex and apologizing the other moviegoers around us for the spectacle i was making. the worst was "For the Love of Benji." you know, the one where the family goes to greece, and benji gets lost, and no one will feed him, and he meets a little girly dog, and she becomes his little girlfriend, and he steals the sausage from the outdoor market so she can eat, and the whole time the bad guy wants to put an evil computer chip in benji's lil paw? you know, that one. shit, i teared up just writing that.

the worst i ever embarasseed her was at "E.T." i was about 12 years old and my older brother had already seen the movie. he knew mom was taking me to see it and he felt honor bound to warn her. he told, "mom, i hate to ruin the movie for you, but there is something you have to know. ET is going to die and Jelly is going to lose her mind. but, you have to tell her that he will come back to life."

mom thanked him for the heads up, and we went on our merry way.

yup, sure enough, ET dies and i am in FULL BLOWN HYSTERICS. i am talking heaving body sobs and almost screaming. my mom leans over and tries to whisper to me, "it's ok. he is going to live. he will be ok. your brother told me. it's going to be ok." (please note that these are not my memories, this is only what i have been told because i was SO FUCKING HYSTERICAL that i honestly have no memory of any this.) so, she is trying to whisper this to me to calm me down, but she doesn't want anyone else to hear.

this is when the usher comes down the aisle and asks my mom if she needs to remove me from the theater. my mom assures him that she has this under control (yeah, right) and she pinches me HARD to get my attention and tell me that ET is going to live. at some point, it must have sank in and i calmed down.

and then we get to the end of movie and ET leaves, phones home and all that. and i am right back to square one. i was EXHAUSTED when that movie was over.

that was more than 20 years ago, and i can't say i have gotten much better. at least i have learned to watch the sad movies at home. and that is partly due to vanity. see, i am not one of these women that looks beautiful, haunted and tragic when she cries. nope. my whole face turns red, my eyes swell shut into little slits and my nose just does not stop running. oh so pretty.

thank god for Netflix is all i'm saying.

Sunday, March 12, 2006

We Keep His Balls In A Glass Jar in the Pantry

pity Poor Jim. he is my best friend of a bajillion years. we practically grew up together. Poor Jim is married and has 3 three beautiful daughters. he is drowning in a sea of estrogen.

he USED to be manly. he hung out with his buds, drank beer, pumped iron and watched sports. slowly, but noticeably, over the years, we have castrated him. now, he knows the names of all the Powerpuff Girls and can probably do nicer french braids than i can.

we were talking on the phone friday night, and he was telling me that a few days ago his wife was being a raging, hormonal, monster. he said, "i don't understand it. when we got married, she said she never got PMS."

i said, "and you BELIEVED her?" (insert me laughing hysterically for 10 minutes) dude, we ALL say that. otherwise we would never get another date. just operate under the assumption that all women are psycho hose beasts at least two days a month and you will be fine. damn, just wait until your daughters start in with PMS."

"one of them already is. there are days where she is nagging and bitchy."

"you are just five years away from going on an Iron Man retreat, aren't you? i can just see you, naked in the woods, playing bongos around a campfire, crying because the women in your life don't understand you."


"yup."

Wednesday, March 08, 2006

I Heart Irony

this pic was taken earlier this week at a party to promote awareness of global poverty.

is anyone else scared that Lindsey Lohan is skinnier than the starving African kids in this pic?

Example

the kids probably thought they were at a party to raise money to buy the skinny white girl some Twinkies. then they saw her $800 Manolos and got confused.

Tuesday, March 07, 2006

Hi, My Name is Jelly and my Mom Thinks I Am an Alcoholic

i will freely admit that i have one, sometimes two, drink(s) at night before i go to bed. it's to keep my heart healthy, you know. really. that and i have an unnatural love of Stoli Vanil vodka. i mean, have you tasted this stuff? it's like happy in a bottle.

i also have a large Big Gulp type cup that i fill with regular diet coke. i need the caffeine to sleep. i drink so much diet coke all day long that another 44 ounces at bedtime has zero effect on me. the kidney stones make a lot more sense now, don't they?

but, my drinks i make in a regular size drinking cup. so, every night i am juggling two cups. the mondo sized diet coke and the NORMAL sized cup for my tipple.

the other night, i was filling the 44 ouncer and pulled a classic butter finger move and spilled the whole damn thing all over the kitchen counter. huge mess. as i was mopping it up, my mom asked, "did that have booze in it?"

so, mom thinks i am filling the aquarium sized cup with vodka. nice. i guess if i want to walk around the house with a bottle of Stoli and straw, no one would be really surprised. it's nice to know i have that kind of freedom.

cheers.

Tuesday, February 28, 2006

Country CrapFest

i am generally not a fan of country music. however, i do like garth brooks and a few songs of reba's. and THAT IS IT. the rest is just twangy, schmaltzy, emotionally manipulative CRAP. absolute crap. when i die and go to hell, my iPod will only play Patsy Cline. that is going to be my punishment for making fun of fat girls in skinny clothes. and i am prepared for that.

the other day, i was channel surfing and came across the Country Music network. now, i would not even have known this channel part of my cable package, but they had a show with John Mayer on it and my Tivo picked it up. good Tivo. good Tivo.

i saw a video by a "band" called Rascal Flatts. i think the song was called "Skin" but i don't care enough to google it and find out for sure. now, country music videos have ZERO imagination and they merely recreate the song. yawn. this one in particular was especially nauseating. the song is about a young girl that gets cancer, loses her hair and dreams of going to her prom. i have seen Lifetime movies with more depth than this shit. in the video we see the girl get the diagnosis, lose her hair and then her prom date picks her up and he has shaved his head in solidarity with her so she will not feel so awkward.

now, one of the many, many problems i had with this video was how they depicted the girl. she looked exactly the same at the beginning as she did at the end, only bald. they did not even try to make her look sicker, thinner, etc... basically, she looked like a bald female beach volleyball player. it's like they want to tug at your heartstrings, but in too realistic a way, because apparently, THAT would be a buzzkill. it was so fucking stupid it put me right off my Hot Pocket.

further viewing of this network lead to further bullshit. these country music stars try oh so hard to depict a "i'm just a down to earth good ol' boy" image. they are all about the "i am just like you, america." illusion. dude, you make 45 gazillion dollars a year. i am guessing you have not scrubbed your own toilet in 12 years. shut the hell up and let me get back to clipping Lean Cuisine coupons.

the heart of america, my ass.

Thursday, February 23, 2006

Hearts, Candy and Prison Rape

by nature, i am not a romantic gal. flowers and candy do nothing for me. and the thought of a long walk on the beach makes me think more about sand fleas than romance. you wanna make my heart flutter? buy me yarn. wanna get me naked? buy me a kate spade purse. that's the way to my obviously two sizes too small heart.

so, naturally, my reading selection DOES NOT include romance novels. i prefer true crime, memoirs and essays. and occasionally, some good angst ridden fiction. i recently started reading the "Outlander" series by Diana Gabaldon. and i am hooked like a junkie let loose in a pharmacy. the story centers around a woman in 1945 that time travels back to 1745. and, yes, she does fall in love along the way, but the books are so much more than a love story. the characters are vivid and the writing is superb.

however, these books are classified as Romance and now i find myself skulking around the Romance section of the bookstore buying these books. i run in, do a quick scan, find the next book in the series and bolt out to the Social Sciences section before anyone spots me in there. i want to order the rest of the series thru Amazon just to avoid the dreaded Romance section, but then my "Amazon Recommendations for You" will include books with oily, muscled men and heaving bosoms on the cover and that might piss me off more. it's a lose/lose situation, i fear.

but maybe i am being judgemental. at the end of the first book, one of the characters describes, in vivid detail, the anal rape he suffered while imprisoned. and i do mean VIVID detail. so, if that makes this a Romance novel, maybe all those other books aren't so bad. if i can find a novel that outlines Fabio's anal rape and degredation, i might just spend more time in the Romance section.

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

So I Was Wrong About the Mittelschmerz

that horrid pain last week that i chalked up to my Mittelschmerz. not so much it turns out. it was kidney stones. now, let me tell you, that is an experience that i WOULD wish on my worst enemy. i was praying for the release of sweet, sweet death. i would rather get my tongue tattooed than EVER live thru that again. and not one of those outline, easy tattoos. no, i am talking about a full on, colored in dragon tattoo with flames and everything. what kind of sick joke is mother nature playing? peeing out a pebble? that's just wrong on every level.

when the pain started, i thought it was a bladder infection. but then it got worse. so i Googled my symptoms and came to the conclusion that i either had kidney stones or an enlarged prostate. kidney stones seemed most likely. then i got really scared. see, i saw pics of some kidney stones. some of those little fuckers had JAGGED EDGES. that just makes your private parts pucker, doesn't it?

in order to stave off another episode of my body passing a geological specimen, i have drunk approximately 12,567 gallons of water in the last week. this is not fun.

so, now, whenever someone pisses me off i look at them and hex them with The Curse of Kidney Stones. so you better mind your p's and q's around me.

Monday, February 13, 2006

Oy Vey, My Mittelschmerz Is Acting Up Again

i guess chronic, stabbing pain in my side isn't too bad if it has a fun name like mittelschmerz. for those of you not in the know, that's painful ovulation. emphasis on the "painful."

couple this with the fact that my body has a VERY strong urge to procreate during ovulation (ok, yes, i was horny. but i didn't want to come out and say that because sometimes my mom reads my blog to my granny. so, mom, when you do read her this one, skip the parentheticals, ok?) so i spent the majority of the day popping motrins like tic tacs and oogling men on the street.

the mittelschmerz is like mother nature getting even with me. i don't get cramps and my periods are usually fairly light and manangeable. but ovulating is a BITCH. i mean. REALLY, how big is this egg my body is trying to pass? is it like a jumbo AA farm fresh egg? god, now i know how a chicken feels. no wonder they are always so peckish. (god, i slay me.)

you really did want to know this much about me, didn't you?

Saturday, February 11, 2006

Pass The Disinfectant, STAT!

mom and i strolled into Brookstone today. they are the home of all things useless but lustworthy. Roombas, massage chairs and squishy pillows galore. i don't even know how they stay in business, because whenever i go in there all i see is people lounging in the massage chairs, but no one is ever buying anything.

you always have to wait to get into the massage chairs because they are all occupied. and it chaps my ass when i see a 12 year old hogging up one of the good chairs. for god's sake, skippy, you are 12, how knotted up and stressed out can you be?

today, i pateintly waited my turn (no, really, it's true) and plopped my happy ass into one of the deluxe $4000 massage chairs. oh, baby! i loved this one so much i am going to name it Ricky and marry it. full body massage, head to toe and you don't even have to get naked and touched by a big woman named Helga. anything that can help me avoid getting naked in front of strangers is always a good thing. i have naked issues, you know.

but, before we walked into the store, we looked in the window and saw this new, uber cool foot massager thingy. it massages your feet and lower legs. well, it was uber cool until we saw the display model. some old dude was using it. he had slipped off his sandals and stuck his bare feet in there. ugly, gnarled, dirty old man feet. complete with nasty yellow toe nails. *gack*

so consider this your PSA for the day. skip the foot massager. unless you want athlete's foot. and if you do, go ahead, knock yourself out. but none for me, thanks.

Sunday, February 05, 2006

Free Gift with Purchase?

yesterday, i went to my local Blockbuster to rent a few movies. because it was Saturday night and i have no life. so, i get "Hustle&Flow," "The Aristocrats," and "The 40 Year Old Virgin." i watched the virgin movie first and it was funny. not "pee your pants, crack a rib laughing" funny, but i chuckled a few times.

then i decide to watch "Hustle&Flow" because i wanted a feel good movie. so, i open the DVD case and find a toy surprise in this one.

Example
yup, somebody left weed in the DVD case.

i suppose i should just be glad there wasn't a used condom in "The 40 Year Old Virgin" case.

Wednesday, February 01, 2006

Jelly, Interrupted

they talk a lot. they talk all the time. they talk like it was on olympic event. they never stop talking. and by "they" i mean "my family." they will talk right over you like you never opened your mouth. and by "you" i mean "me."

i grew up in a family of talkers. if they have something to say, by god, they are going to say it. and in that environment, you either sink or swim. i sunk. i never learned how to keep talking and make myself heard. this could be an actual conversation in my house:

jelly: "oh my god. my hair is ON FIRE! someone call 9-1-"

granny: "did i tell you what the neighbor did? he had the nerve to put his trash cans in my driveway and leave them there for 2 days. i am going to report him!"

jelly: "me. hair. fire."

granny: "i tell you, one of these days i am going to put my trash cans in his driveway and leave them there for THREE days. just let him tell me something!"

as a result of this, i have developed the really bad habit of repeating myself. especially if what i just said has not been acknowledged. i know this is really annoying, but i just can't seem to stop.

as a result of this, i have developed the really bad habit of repeating myself. especially if what i just said has not been acknowledged. i know this is really annoying, but i just can't seem to stop.

i bet if i won the lotto, they would hear that! and when i do win that big jackpot, my first purchase is going to be a megaphone.

Thursday, January 26, 2006

Suckered in by Yet ANOTHER Infomercial

What is it about 3am that makes me think I need every product shown on every informercial? Every infomercial I see, I am convinced that my life will be incomplete unless I own the latest, bestest toy. Except for the midgets hawking the real estate package. They scare me. They scare me bad.

You think I would have learned my lesson with the pancake flipper from 2003. I was CONVINCED that was the secret to curing my inability to make pancakes. THIS was the product that would allow me to enjoy pancakes whenever I wanted, not just when I went to Denny’s. I would finally master the art of the pancake. The year it came out I begged and pleaded with my family and convinced them that I would just DIE if I didn’t get one for my birthday.

I got one. And guess what? I still can’t make a fucking pancake to save my life. And it only allows you to make one pancake at a time. So I ended up with one room temp burned pancake and one piping hot burned pancake. Hey, I never claimed this was Jelly’s House of Haute cuisine.

Once again I fell prey to siren song of the overly enthusiastic, CALL NOW OR HATE YOURSELF LATER! 30 minute commercial. This time it was the Spin Spa. The promise of an exfoliating machine was more than I could resist. See, I am not an amateur exfoliator. Oh no, I gave up my Olypmic standing years ago. I am a PROFESSIONAL exfoliator. I have scrubby gloves, back brushes, loofahs and body scrubs coming out of my ears. Speaking of ears, I even exfoliate behind my ears. That’s commitment, baby.

The Spin Spa is like a back brush with 5 detachable heads. It comes with scrubby brush heads, micro dermabrasion brush heads, pumice heads and massaging heads. When I first saw the infomercial my vision got a little blurry and my heart started racing. Was it possible? All my exfoliating dreams come true in one nifty package for only $19.95? It was like xmas, my birthday and John Mayer’s birthday all wrapped into one sweet, sweet package.

So I ordered it and every single day, I raced home and checked my mail. After 3 weeks of waiting, it finally came. Oh, happy day. I tore that package open and beheld the glory that is the Spin Spa. The glory was short lived.

I installed the batteries and hopped into the shower with my new toy. (That sentence could have such a dirty double entendre. If you had a filthy mind. Which I don’t.) I attached the micro dermabrasion head and went to work on my face. The problem is the micro derm head is HUGE and my face is not. It felt like I was scrubbing my face with a plate.

The spinning action was a little slow for my tastes, quite frankly. I am a VIGOROUS exfoliator and this thing was spinning at the speed of molasses. But I made do and kept spinning.

Ok, no worries. Onto the body scrubber head. I am in the shower, so I am naked, wet and vulnerable. After a minute of scrubbing, the head came flying off and whacked me in a very naked, wet and vulnerable place.

Never being one to give up, I moved on to the pumice head. Now this one was actually quite useful and is the only reason I am keeping the damn machine. It works great on my feet and because of the length of the machine, I don’t have to do pretzel contortions in the shower to get to my feet.

SIGH

When will learn that informercial products can never live up to the heady promises they make? Probably after I order that new pasta cooker that looks like a big tube and cooks the pasta without ever having to touch a stove.

And apropos of nothing, this is my 100th blog entry.

Tuesday, January 24, 2006

A Rare, But Beautiful Moment

even on the best days, LA traffic is a nightmare. i only have a 12 mile commute, but it still takes me almost an hour to drive to work in the morning. last night, i left work at 7:30pm and STILL had to sit in traffic. it just never lets up. although, some days are easier than others.

then there are days like today. every person in the Valley just lost their freakin' minds and completely forgot everything they learned in Drivers Ed. blinkers? nah, we don't need no stinkin' blinkers! haven't these people seen "Blood on the Highway" or "Red Gravel?" it was Death Match 3000 out there this morning! i felt like i needed a crash helmet and one of those nets inside the cars like they do in NASCAR.

one car in particular was just pissing me off. i first spotted him while i was in line to get on the freeway. he just went zipping past the line in the carpool lane. but he was no carpool. he was by himself. asshole. Mr. OhTheRulesDon'tApplyToMe! "ooooo, i drive a silver beamer, so i am just that much more special." fucktard.

i saw him a few more times on the freeway just changing lanes willy nilly, never using his blinker and just being a general menace.

ten minutes later, there he was. on the side of the road. pulled over by the Highway Patrol.

it was flippin' sweet.

it could have only been better if he had been facedown in the gravel with that cop's boot in his neck and a canine cop nipping at his balls. but hey, i'll take my joy where i can find it.

Monday, January 16, 2006

And The 5 Year Old Told Me To Keep My Day Job

on saturday, mom and i took my goddaughter and her sisters to Disneyland. it's an annual tradition and we always have a great day. except for the rain. every fucking year, it rains on the day we go to Disneyland. no, we don't live in Seattle. we live in LOS ANGELES. where we have, at most, like 12 rain days per year. but we always get rained on, no matter which day we pick to go. so next time california has a drought, we will plan a trip to the Happiest Place on Earth, and the skies will open and the whole state will be forever indebted to us. sounds like a plan to me.

the upside to going to Disneyland in the rain is that the park is fairly empty and we didn't have to wait more then 20 minutes in line for any ride. we rode about 12 rides and had a BLAST.

except for the Jungle Cruise. mom and i had to get ghetto on some indonesian tourists while we were in that line. we were walking down the steps and these people tried to cut in line in front of the kids. um. no i DON'T think so! i won't relate exactly what we said to them, but needless to say, i don't think they will find "rude motherfuckers" in their Indonesian to English dictionaries.

particularly popular is the Haunted Mansion, especially from Oct-Jan because they convert it to a "Nightmare Before Christmas" Haunted Mansion and it is decked out in all things Jack, Sally and Ooogie Boogie. while in line, they pipe in the movie soundtrack over the loudspeakers. when "Kidnap the Sandy Claws" came on, i was happily singing along. not so loud that i was making a spectacle of myself, just loud enough so that Samantha, age 5 (the youngest) could hear me. i am well aware of the fact that i am not exactly the next American Idol, but that doesn't stop me.

she looked at me and said, "could you sing it better?"

i told her, "um, no, actually, i can't."

now, normally, a comment like that is enough to get someone on the "Dead to Jelly List" right quick. but, this kid gets a free pass for life. and not just because she is cuter than kitten whiskers. no, she is double jointed and will do weird, bendy things with her hands on command.


Example
i mean, REALLY! look at her index fingers! can you do that? no? didn't think so.


Example
just look at that thumb! all the way back, baby! ok, so it doesn't take a whole lot to amuse me, but you have to admit, that is pretty cool.


Example
now, here she is, being her normally cute, non-bendy self. look at that face. that makes a day in the rain TOTALLY worth it.

the Unholy Smell will be back to it's regular, snarky bitchy self later this week.

Sunday, January 08, 2006

I Love My THING! Don't You Love My THING?

i was gonna make this long story short, but fuck it, i am feeling verbose.

this afternoon, i went to brunch with my mom and her best friend, Carolyn. it was the champagne brunch at Acapulco. seeing as i was driving, i didn't imbibe, but they did. they had nice buzzes and we were all laughing and having a good time. we do love our champagne brunches around here.

we left the restaurant and were headed to our next destination. merrily driving down ventura blvd, i spotted some fire trucks coming our way, so i stopped. the lady behind me did not and she slammed right into my car. my mom jumped out of my car so fast i thought she was gonna go back there and beat the shit out of this woman. don't fuck with MamaJelly and you REALLY don't fuck with her kids. i thought, "oh god, mom's drunk on a sunday afternoon and she's gonna get into a brawl in the middle of the street."

luckily, she was just getting out to stop traffic in the other lanes so we could all pull into a gas station and do the info exchange. so we do all that, blah, blah, blah.

needless to say, i was not in the mood to go shopping, so we just headed for home. i don't know about you, but getting slammed by a Ford Focus kind of sucks the fun out of the rest of the afternoon for me.

on the way home, we passed by a strip mall that we never go to. just one of those generic, 7/11-Indian Spices-98Cent Mart-Video Store type malls. we always say we are going to stop and check out the Indian place, but we never do. i was feeling whimsical, so i said, "fuck it. we're going in."

first we went to the 98Cent Mart, because those places are always good for a few whacky products. they did not disappoint today.

Example

ok, so i really suck at taking photos, but the package reads, "Bath Massage Thing - The health care thing steps into a new century." it's a sponge, people. no, i am sorry, it is my bath massage thing. i LOVE products made in China!

then we traipse off to the Indian Spice place. they had tons of authentic, unidentifiable Indian foods and spices and condiments. the jar of clarified butter was a little scary, but otherwise, the place was pretty interesting.

then i found the "authentic" Indian breads.


Example

yes, that is the Pillsbury DoughBoy. authentic Indian cusine meets American frozen food convenience.


Example

and it comes in poppin' fresh varieties, too.

i also bought some curry flavored top ramen. it is honest to goodness top ramen. just further proof that every culture has slack ass/can't cook for shit/kitchen retards like myself.

Saturday, January 07, 2006

If Looks Could Kill, That Bitch Would Be DEAD

my one vanity is my nails. i might wear frumpy clothes, or have a less than stellar hair style, but you will NEVER, and yes, i said, NEVER, see me with a broken or unpolished nail. just ain't gonna happen, my friend. i get a mani and pedi every two weeks. come hell or high water, my nails are gonna look good, dammit! even when i have been out of work, i have always managed to scrounge up the money for this, with the rationale that my nails have to look good in case i had an interview. i can justify any frivolous expense.

this afternoon, i had my nail appointment at 1pm. at 12:25pm, Lisa, my manicurist, called me at home and asked if i could come in right away. i agreed, figuring she was trying to leave early, and it's not like i was doing anything, anyway. so i throw on some clothes and haul ass down there.

i walked into the salon at 12:40pm and saw Lisa working on someone else's nails. i asked what was going on and Lisa explained that she thought she was free from 12:30-1pm, but had forgotten that this other lady had an appointment. i was mildly irritated, but not raging mad or anything. i told her i would go for a walk and come back at 1pm. so, i returned at 12:55pm and Lisa was almost done with the other lady and told me it would only be a few minutes more. i sat near her station to wait. the expression on my face was less than pleasant, i guess, because, then the woman who was getting her nails done says to Lisa, "what's her problem? what's the big deal?"

my head whipped around so fast, i almost got whiplash. this bitch has the nerve to talk about me like i suddenly went deaf and wouldn't hear? I.DON'T.THINK.SO. i glared at her so hard i am surprised she didn't burst into flames on the spot. i mean, REALLY! Lisa explained her faux pas and the lady shrugged it off like i was being an asshole for being a little miffed at being put out and rushed for nothing. fuck her. and her ugly ass brown pants and turquoise cowboy boots.

then after she FINALLY left, she came back 10 minutes later because she had fucked up one of her nails and wanted Lisa to fix it right away. Lisa at least had the good sense to tell her to wait until i was done. otherwise, this story would end with me in jail and her with one of her own turquoise cowboy boots up her own ass.

Sunday, January 01, 2006

A Combined IQ of 12

mom and i just went into the front yard for a few minutes. we don't let the dogs into the front yard, but if they go out the back door, they can run around the side and still see us from one of the side fences. so, as we are walking out the front door, mom tells them to go out back. and she says to me, "we will see how smart they are."

we go outside and there they were. it was unanimously decided that they are indeed, smarter than the average bear.

we however, are not.

go back to the front door to find that we had locked ourselves out.