Tag Archives: humor

Sunrise

7 May

Sunrise-New-York

 

It sneaks in, pouring like warm honey
through the cracks of
my window shade.

The city streets stretch–
and slowly liven as
icy dew forms
upon my soul,

for I too must rise
and shine for another day of
absolute horseshit at literally the most

Mundane.
Job.
Ever.

Fine, sunrise,
you relentless nag.
I’m up,

but I swear I’ll quit today
if that bubbly,
know-it-all bitch, Denise,
doesn’t stop squawking about her wedding.

A Trip To David’s Bridal

2 Apr

Wedding season is quickly approaching and on Monday I finally had to suck it up and go to David’s Bridal to get fitted for a bridesmaid dress. This was my first trip to a bridal store of any kind, and this one happens to be in an iffy neighborhood, so I was basically having an anxiety attack about it, especially because of the feedback I got from Yelp reviews:

“It was obnoxious seeing trashy girls in neon yellow dresses parading all over the place with midriffs and cleavage hanging out. Especially in the location of Maryland this David’s is located.”

and:

“I didn’t appreciate the tiny dressing rooms or the communal area for brides to show their dresses to friends/family. Why? Because I didn’t appreciate the screaming kids or the creepy dads/fiancés/other males staring at me and commenting like I was a piece of meat, all the while they were there to support someone else. I felt so gross!”

 

My personal trip to David’s Bridal, however, was a godsend. We were in and out of the store within 18 minutes, there were zero screaming children, no creepers, and the dress was on sale and fit perfectly. It was astounding, really. Only a true bridesmaid ninja could pull that kind of thing off.

Relieved about the ease of the trip, we exited the parking lot and gaily rolled up to a red light. I began telling my mom a story about my ridiculous boss when suddenly she squinted and cut me off–”Wait, is that a dancing nun?” she asked.

I looked over and sure enough, a nun was dancing on the corner, waiting to cross the street. We were so in awe that neither of us could blink or utter a single word. I mean, it’s pretty rare to see a nun jamming out on the corner at 4:45 pm on a Monday (or ever) and I swear to you that not even the hand of God could have stopped her groove.

Then a miraculous thing happened right when the light turned green–the nun whipped around and startled us with an unexpected, prominent five o’clock shadow.

Our jaws dropped in unison before my mom yelled “Heavens! A transvestite nun!? A drag queen!”

I was howling.

As we drove off, I peered in the side view mirror just in time to see Sister Mary Fabulous working it across the street like she owned everything within a 20 mile radius. “Bless her,” I thought to myself, “I wish I could have that kind of confidence.”

I guess that might seem like an odd thing to think about a guy dressed as a nun. Was this prostitution? Is Monday a good day for a drag show? Was it just a crazy guy?

These are questions that will never be answered. Trust me, though, if you saw that strut you would have prayed for some of Sister Mister’s confidence, too.

 

nunnery
 

Once again, thank you to Jon from Pastrami Basket for a surprisingly accurate interpretation!

I Hate The Gym: Part 2

20 Mar

So what do you do if, like me, you hate the gym? Today I’m giving away somewhat juicy tips and free links for maintaining a kind of decent hot bod like mine. If you’re looking for “sort of sexy” results or maybe just need some new moves added to your repertoire, this is for you. Please note that I’m not a trainer or a doctor, just a 29-year-old poor writer who hates the gym and so, I improvise:
 
station
 
And side note, don’t let anyone see you doing the videos posted below. They get pretty embarrassing at some parts, especially if you’re trying Buti Yoga (don’t try it, but if you do, please tape it for me).
 
Some Fitness Tips That Might Work
 
1. Do cardio. Run or bike outside. Walk. If you look like a jackass doing those things, try a Zumba workout 4x per week. That’s what I do in my basement (and I keep the lighting low in case my boyfriend is secretly taping any of it). Sometimes I interchange this with a Persian cardio video or a routine that I come up with in my imagination. Basically, the key is to dance, jump around like an idiot, get your heart rate up and sweat for 50ish minutes.

Sometimes I throw in a run up the steps and weighted hula hoop freestyle or I break out my pink boxing gloves and punch the air like a fancy lady Rocky Balboa, but mostly I just dance and jump around and pretend I’m in a sexy music video. I lost 9 lbs doing this and this alone without changing my diet.
 
Links:

Free Zumba  (which I downloaded for free because of the quality)

Persian Cardio
 
2. Bodyweight training. Assuming I’m not too hungover, on Saturday mornings and Wednesdays I do a yoga class or core class taught by Jillian Michaels (who I hate) or Fiji McAlpine. This past week I tried Buti Yoga…which I don’t suggest unless you enjoy shaking your ass while in a push up position. Also, for the fellas, I think you all should try aerial yoga for my personal entertainment. Don’t forget to wear tight little shorts which will assist in whatever is happening here:
 
Screen Shot 2014-03-19 at 2.20.47 PM

Screen Shot 2014-03-19 at 2.25.23 PM 1
 
Links:

Jillian Michaels (makes me so angry)

Fiji McAlpine core yoga

Buti Yoga (good friggin’ luck)

Aerial Yoga (gentlemen, do this please)
 
3. Fad diets suck, so my diet is just me trying not to get too crazy with my boxed wine and pizza. I suggest only eating your feelings on 1 and a half nights of the week (or 2 maybe). During the rest of the week, I count my calories using MyFitnessPal and I hate myself for doing it and sometimes I yell at people, but it works and is extremely rewarding.
 
Soo, that’s it. I know I’m doing something right because a young gentleman referred to me as a “dime piece.” If you choose to partake in these activities, don’t forget to drink water and eat veggies and protein and stuff or whatever actual diet people tell you to do.

Remember, there’s still time to have the mediocre body you’ve always wanted by summer. Dude, it’s better than nothing.

Ricky

20 Feb

We had a meeting this morning. When it was over, this guy Ricky asked for my office phone number so I could give him more details. So I gave it to him and then said in my proudest, smoothest voice, “Ricky, don’t lose that number.”

Yes, my friends, it was a perfectly executed joke about one of Steely Dan’s most popular songs, “Rikki Don’t Lose That Number.” Not only that, but it was expertly delivered to the perfect audience–a room full of 40-50 year old men who all appreciated it and laughed…except for Ricky. My smile faded as he sat there looking at me blankly. Then, the most preposterous thing happened:

 

______

Me: You know, like the song by Steely Dan?

Ricky: I don’t know Steely Dan.

______

 
Weird.

I let it slide, but I’ve been stewing ever since. Really, Ricky?  How is it possible to have zero knowledge of Steely Dan when you’re an American man in your 40s–especially if your name is Ricky? You’re actually telling me no one has used that line on you before? Do you have a radio? Can you hear? Do you even enjoy music? 

Are you really saying your friends never mentioned it? That’s impossible. Clearly you have no friends or the worst friends ever.

You know, it’s not like you have to be in love with Steely Dan to know the song. You don’t even have to know the song is by Steely Dan. What’s important is that the majority of American men over the age of 25 have heard “Rikki Don’t Lose That Number,” even if it was just at the grocery store or in a friend’s car or something.

That includes you, Ricky. I know you’ve heard it and I’m on to you, you monster.

Phew.

So get this, you guys. As I was sitting here writing this and stewing away, I got an email. From Ricky.

 

Screen Shot3 2014

 

Ricky went right ahead and lost my number. Unless he’s a great liar, he may not even understand how funny that is. What an ass.

I refuse to give it to him again. Surely this is a sick joke or some kind of plan to make me lose my mind. Whatever. You can go send my middle finger off in a letter to yourself, bud, because you’ll never win. Do you hear me?

You’ll NEVER WIN.

 

Sparkly, Safe and Funny Inside

18 Feb

On the night we met, I thought he was just goofy and weird (he is), but I remember walking into my quiet house after he dropped me off and something felt different. “That guy’s a weirdo,” I thought to myself–but it wasn’t bad. I felt sparkly and safe and funny inside.

It has been one year and I still feel that way. Friday was my first Valentine’s Day with someone in a couple of years. At first I felt strange about it because I kept thinking about the final Valentine’s Day I had with my ex-boyfriend before he passed away. That evening he said I had to straighten my wavy hair because it was “too wild” and later that I seemed unhappy and was “impossible to please.”

It made me think about my expectations and I felt bad, but he was right, I wasn’t happy. Despite the fancy Valentine’s Day presentation, I didn’t have fun and I didn’t know why.

Last weekend I learned, however, that it’s not that I am “impossible to please.” It isn’t that I didn’t appreciate fine dining and $94 Vera Wang roses in a silver julep cup that were meant to sweep me off my feet with modern sophistication. It was that I needed to be with someone goofy and weird who gives me room to be myself, have fun and let my hair flow freely. That’s just who I am.

The best thing I ever did was take the time to be honest with myself about who I am and what I was looking for in a relationship. BEST. IDEA. EVER. It seems like it would be such a simple thing to do, doesn’t it? But it isn’t easy for all of us, and there’s nothing wrong with that.

So, now things are different. On Friday, we had our own version of a romantic weekend and it was the best I’ve ever had, even if the cupcakes weren’t perfect and even if we looked out the window and saw this:

 

 

1797448_10101336025356455_1745882462_n

 

 

 

A Quickie

31 Dec

According to my WordPress Annual Report, my most popular topics in 2013 were:

1. Stuff I did on Ambien
2. My first time
3. Young James Spader
4. Guys stripping on Skype
5. My boobs

WordPress suggests I talk more on these subjects.

I am so, so very grateful that people care about these topics, but what else could I possibly say?

Boobs? Still got ‘em. “My First Time” was actually about death, so no thanks.

Thankfully, I haven’t seen any douchey guys strip on Skype and my opinion still stands that James Spader was hot when he was young.

So…now what? Well, I guess new and somewhat interesting posts will just have to exist! Stay tuned for all kinds of titles laced with innuendo. You’re so excited right now. I can feel it.

To be honest, I would still write about whatever keeps me sane whether I had 1 view or 40,000 views in a year. It just happens to be that the latter number was more accurate in 2013, so I just wanted to say THANK YOU SO MUCH to everyone for your support. You’re awesome!

A lot of you are a bunch of pervs and I guess some of you like poetry, but I love all of you just the same and not by the one abnormally long hair on my chinny-chin-chin would I have you any other way.

Cheers! Happy New Year!

8 Perfect Gifts for Ladies

23 Dec

So, you waited until today to buy your lady a gift and you have no idea what you’re looking for. Naughty. Fortunately, I have a keen eye for all things unique and beautiful, as seen in my award-winning piece about dresses, and I’m about to save your life with this list of perfect gifts for ladies.
 

1. Grumpy Cat Tank Top

grumpycat

The Grumpy Cat tank top is great for the fashionista in your life. I mean, it’s Grumpy Cat being grumpy and possibly howling at the moon…and it’s a TANK TOP. Women named Julie and Jen will be shocked by its perfection and this summer our jaws will drop when we see all the trendy moms in visors and fanny packs wearing this very tank top over their bathing suits at the water park. You heard it here first!
 
 

2. Stix Eyewear (not to be confused with Styx, the band I love)

stix_eyewear2

This is an ideal gift for the gal who wears glasses and often uses chopsticks for food and/or her hair. I guess that is super specific….I don’t know, maybe you’re buying for your best friend who also happens to be a nearsighted geisha spy. If so, this is your lucky day!
 
 

3. Heated Snake Rug

rug

Mom won’t be passive aggressively criticizing any of your choices this holiday season after she receives a heated snake rug. You might have to help her get in and out of it because this doesn’t look like an easy process. If you would say your mom isn’t much of a slitherer, a heated blanket may or may not be a better choice.
 
 

4. Extremely Classy Duvet

duvet

Your girlfriend will love this duvet much more than an engagement ring. I promise. All her friends who recently got engaged will be so jealous when you post it on Facebook! “I want this instead!” they’ll shout at their betrotheds. You best pick out a fancy cape because you, sir, are about to be a hero.
 
 

5. Diamond Ice Cube Tray

diamond-icecubes

This is a really good gift for a girlfriend you’ve been with for 8 years or so. The moment she sees it she will need a drink and if she cries, it’s likely because she’s so happy.

 
 

6. Shittens

shittens-mitten-moist-wipes-4

Your wife wants Shittens, trust me. Shittens are disposable mitten-shaped moist wipes. Also, just so we’re clear, they’re for butts.
 
 
7. Banana Bunker

banana

A gift for all women everywhere–the Banana Bunker. It’s strictly for bananas. I don’t know a single woman who likes a bruised banana and that’s why this is a great gift. I say buy a pack and give them to coworkers, your sister, your aunt and anyone else who doesn’t like bruised bananas. What a great stocking stuffer!
 
 
Aaaaannd last but not least….
 
8. Wine Rack

winerack-med

Another thing your girlfriend probably wants is a wine rack. Okay, maybe it’s just me that wants this. Someone please buy me this for Christmas. Please? Anyone? I just want to drink wine out of my sports bra already.

We Need To Talk

13 Nov

Listen, we need to talk. Things are getting out of hand with a pretty big issue. It offends me on a regular basis, and I know I’m not alone. You may be an offender, so please sit down for a moment. Whew, I’m nervous.

Okay, deep breath–

I’m here today to discuss your wind chimes. They’re awful.

Before you get upset and think I’m some sort of tranquility hater, please understand that my problem isn’t with actual chimes or the actual wind. I mean, who isn’t enchanted by the chimes in a magical Christmas song? Which one of your souls isn’t soothed by the chimes during a spa massage?

And tell me, who among us would deny the wild, provocative wind its right to tussle our hair about like a playful lover? Who would say no to its gentle caresses? Don’t feel ashamed, I’ve been with the wind. I know how it is, I know.

Your wind chimes, however, are the worst. I get what you’re going for, but there is nothing zen about how aggressive those things can get in the middle of the night while I’m trying to sleep. They’re arrogant, and I don’t like that they formed a gang with the other neighborhood wind chimes. The main objective of this gang? To vandalize my precious patterns of slumber. Dicks.

I need sleep. Everyone needs sleep. Do you wear earplugs every night or something? Are you hard of hearing? Is it that you were hired to slowly drive me insane?

If so, it’s working.

Sometimes I stand on my porch and stare at your wind chimes, hoping they’ll burst into flames, but instead they just continue to hang there and chinkle away, talking loudly and all at once, yet never actually saying anything.

Tink. Jingle. Chatter. Ching.

They’re mocking me, aren’t they? They’re mocking us all.

Owners of wind chimes, it’s time to take action! Your wind chimes are acting like assholes. I heard they’re even bullying children at school, sexually harassing women in the workplace, robbing men at gunpoint and irresponsibly texting while driving. No one is safe!

My best friend recently met wind chimes at the bar and they acted like they were totally into her but after they slept together, they never even called her again. Wasn’t that so immature of wind chimes? Ugh, and they’re all the same.

You know, I wasn’t even going to have this chat with you, but I saw on the news last night that your wind chimes are rumored to be harboring missiles and were seen hanging out with Robin Thicke for the last 3 weekends in a row. This, my friend, is where I drew the line.

I care for you and I don’t want you to be associated with terrorism and misogyny, you know? You’re better than this. We both know it.

So, I think you know what to do next. Your reputation and my sanity are on the line.

Thank you.

Love,

Lauren

The Horror! The Horror!

30 Oct

This morning on Facebook, as part of her contribution to Halloween, a girl posted her “favorite poem by Edgar Allan Poe.” Before continuing, please reread that with a valley girl accent. Do it. So, like, imagine it reading like, “Oh my god, like, this is my favorite poem by Edgar Allan Poe!” followed by lots of giggles and shit.

Got it? Did you imagine the giggles? Good.

When I read that she was reading something besides “50 Shades of Grey,” I became intrigued (because that’s all she talks about). So I took a sip of coffee, sat back in my chair and read:

 

“Come little children
I’ll take thee away, into a land
of Enchantment

Come little children
the time’s come to play
here in my garden
of Shadows

Follow sweet children
I’ll show thee the way
through all the pain and
the Sorrows

Weep not poor children 
for life is this way
murdering beauty and
Passions

Hush now dear children
it must be this way
to weary of life and
Deceptions

Rest now my children
for soon we’ll away
into the calm and
the Quiet

Come little children
I’ll take thee away, into a land
of Enchantment

Come little children
the time’s come to play
here in my garden of Shadows”

 

Um, if this girl was trying to horrify me, she succeeded.  My jaw is actually aching from all that sitting on the ground it did after reading that.

However, because she’s 34 and her costume this Halloween is “sexy pizza,” I’ll assume she had no clue that the poem is definitely not by Edgar Allan Poe.

I mean, I’m not a Poe scholar or anything, but his writing is far more sophisticated and darker than that.  If the above poem ended with a monomaniac pulling the teeth of all the children and had something about them being buried alive, I might think differently. If you aren’t familiar with his work, please visit this page and read “Berenice” to understand what I mean.

So, what is the poem she posted, then? I recognized it immediately. It’s the song Sarah Jessica Parker sang as Sarah, the bimbo witch in the 1993 film Hocus Pocus. I’m not proud that I knew that, but hey, it’s a personal favorite (mostly because when I was 9 I had a major crush on pretty much every boy ever, and Omri Katz, who played Max Dennison in the movie, was one of the those lucky fellas).

Also, if anyone is wondering if perhaps Disney borrowed Poe’s poem for the movie, my answer to you comes from the Disney Song Encyclopedia:

 

sarahstheme

 

I don’t know how this mistake happened, but I don’t want to think too hard about it because my head will probably explode.

I hope this horrifying tale serves as a reminder to everyone that there are dark corners of the internet with false information, and if you’re going to dress up as sexy pizza for Halloween, it’s important to have your facts straight if you want anyone to take you seriously as the sexy piece of pizza you were born to be. Now get out there and show ‘em what you’ve got.

 

YR_E7044_RC_880738_CC2013

 

Also, if you need me, I’ll be in the corner of the bar dressed as sexy zombie Snow White (the one with the brains, of course).

 

 

My Tight Spiral

8 Oct

The other day my boyfriend was teaching me how to throw a football so it does that spirally thing. I don’t know why I wanted it to do the thing, I just wanted it to do the thing.

I also wanted to get more power behind the throw, so he told me to use my torso to rotate my shoulders and blah blah blah long story short, I eventually threw it as perfectly as anyone could with all the spirals and sparkles and everything, but when I did, what do you think happened?

 

Was it:

A. I fell on my face

B. I ripped a colossal fart 

C. I pulled a muscle

or

D. All of the above 

 

Wouldn’t that suck and be super embarrassing if it was D? Well guess what, it was totally D. Of course it was D. Go big or go home, I always say.

From across the yard my boyfriend yelled, “Ohhhhh nooooooo!” in what I swear was slow motion as my dog ran over to assess the unfortunate situation. I guess I’m just sad no one got it on camera so we could win $10,000 on America’s Funniest Videos. Is that show still on? I still don’t have cable.

Sigh. Stay tuned as I continue to cultivate awkward seeds in my ever-expanding garden of gracelessness.

 

IMG_20131004_152458

At least I got a cute picture out of it

 

 

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