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.


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.

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

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.

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.


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.


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


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.