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Lament for My Squeaky Bra

10 Sep

 

Sing to me, O Muse, the cause of
a squeaky bra on the day I
presented my pimped-out PowerPoint
of which I was once so proud.

Not pearls, heels nor shaky laser pen
could take the attention from
these blushing cheeks
as each step bore the betrayal of creak

and squeak.

O, bra most exquisite!
What awkwardness thou hast provided
whilst supporting my superior bosom.

Continue not this costly crime against me,
for our intimate time
together has been not long

and I do not know if you can be fixed with WD-40.

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Ginger and Big Tweety

8 Aug

Four years ago, when I first moved to Baltimore City, I lived in Butcher’s Hill with my best friend, Kelli. There were a number of characters in our neighborhood, but my two favorite white trash locals were named Ginger and Big Tweety. Those two were always out causing some kind of trouble. Sometimes when I walked by I would throw a fake gang sign and if they said it wasn’t a real gang sign I would be like, “It is too. It’s for a new gang I made up–you guys can be in it if you want. Girls only.” They always shook their heads at me, unsure if I was being serious.

One morning at 4:15 am,  I walked a friend to his car that was parked five blocks away (god forbid anyone ever find parking anywhere in this city).

When I returned to my street there were two seedy figures frantically scratching at the lamppost in front of my house. I was nervous until I realized it was just my neighbor Ginger and her girl Big Tweety. Tweety’s real name was Trina, but she was hefty and regularly sported a gorgeous stonewashed denim jacket with Tweety Bird on the back and a Tweety Bird denim bowling bag as her purse–so naturally, Ginger called her Big Tweety.

This is what used to be written on the pole:

Ginger ♥s Jamaal
Fuck All Bitches and Niggas. I Love him 4EVEr Always.

 

While Big Tweety worked diligently to cover this expression of true love, Ginger was writing something else. I got bold (was wicked drunk) and asked, “What happened to Jamaal?” and Big Tweety calmly replied, “He dead.”

Ginger said nothing.

I felt really bad about it. “Oh, oh my god, I’m so sorry,” I kept apologizing to her, but soon realized she didn’t care all that much because she was writing this:

 

Ginger ♥2 david
(Looks like someone got a little excited and wrote that ‘s’ backwards)

 

Four years later, we remember Jamaal and all he did for the neighborhood, including the time he lit a bag of poop on fire and chased a kid with it and that other time he went door-to-door asking if “anybody got any weed.”

Rest in peace, Jamaal. We hardly knew ye.

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Haiku–Charm City Style

4 Jun

Thank you Elliot (brainsplats.wordpress.com) for the Versatile Blogger Award. I wrote him a haiku about Baltimore and then forced four scientists to do the same because Elliot enjoys both the occasional haiku and the HBO series The Wire. I wrote the last one. I didn’t give specific instructions, making this a little more interesting than I thought it would be.

 

Haiku–Charm City Style

W. North Ave, 1100 blk. Photo taken by my friend/the creator of charmcityvacancy.com

Perfume to my dog.
Loves to rub his face in it,
dog park, human poop.

Danger is at hand.
Street-walker prowling about
as I am harassed.

Rushing to our cars,
the thrill makes us feel alive.
Locked doors, safe again.

Scattered chicken bones
stranded along the sidewalks
of west Baltimore.

“Don’t be afraid, babe,”
he says, holding a syringe.
I walk more briskly.

 
Normally I don’t do awards, but if I did, I would give this prestigious award/shoutout to Madame Weebles because she is a funny, sarcastic, smart lady and I like her taste in hot dead guys. Also, Mr. Weebles is from Maryland, so he is probably a hip dude.

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How I know I need a vacation.

28 May

My house is in a very “unique” part of Baltimore called Hampden. There are characters everywhere and sometimes I sit alone on my porch, watch them and think to myself, “What the fucking fuck!?!”

Well, yesterday I was outside weeding and overheard one of my “unique” neighbors talking on the phone. He has a raging boner for me. I kind of enjoy that fact (not many dudes have a raging boner for me), so sometimes I walk outside, bend over to pick up my paper, smile and say something cute. He usually replies with something that reminds me that he has a raging boner for me and I get disgusted/secretly enjoy it and then I move on with my day. Have I mentioned, by the way, that I haven’t had sex since 2011? Because I haven’t had sex since 2011.

Anyway, yesterday I was looking forward to messing with him, but he wasn’t paying attention to me. Suddenly, I heard him say,

“O win lil sexee an’ me wint downy oshun citee it took frevr t’git uvr de Baybrij”

Translation: “When Little Sexy and I went to Ocean City,  it took an extended period of time to drive over the Bay Bridge.”

Who is ‘Little Sexy?’ I thought to myself, is he over me? 

Then he hung up the phone and called her name. “lil sexee c’mere!”

I stood and watched, waiting to see who exactly had stolen the heart of my white trash possible future husband. His 6-year-old daughter then skipped outside and he gave her an adornment of noogies. I sighed with relief, which was followed by utter shock that I even cared in the first place, which was only then followed by the realization that the man nicknamed his daughter “Little Sexy.”

I need to go on a date with a real man and take a vacation to a far away place, people. I’m not letting go of my class just yet!

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far out!

17 May

I received my 1,000th like today. Aw, thanks guys! I feel like I won a prize. I wish the prize was that I could invite all of you to a 3-day drunken beach party/writing seminar. I think we should do it. We will have a few speakers and development sessions followed by some group work and creative writing exercises. At sunset, the poets will have a poetry orgy. How fun!

At some point during the party, because it is my dream, I might force all of you to recreate the opening from Beach Blanket Bingo:

 

 

It would be the absolute ultimate! I hope you all know how to shake your hips.

On Friday night we can have a story time bonfire and a luau on Saturday night. The entire thing will be catered and there will be a full bar. We could meet, learn and have fun. I’m getting excited just thinking about it!!

One evening, my modern Moondoggie will sing this to me (it’s my party so what I say, goes):

 

 

Would you come to my party? I hope so. If I had the funding, I would make it a reality.

 

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9 May

Dane, the boyfriend who I went to this with, died today. He was smart (callback to Jeopardy smart), funny, a great dad to his son and a total pain in my ass. I’m gonna miss him. It’s all about the good memories, right? Well, here we go.

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What is a man?

9 May

I went and picked out a bottle from my Aunt Sue’s wine rack (I am house sitting this week). When I tried to open the bottle, this happened:

 

I broke the wine opener.

 

I fought to the death with that thing, but it didn’t work out. So, on a piece of paper I wrote “sorry” (right). I noticed the notepad (left) had writing on the next page. It asks, “What is a man?” Wow, good question. I found another opener, got a new bottle and there went my mind for the evening. What is a man?

What is a man to you? Are you a man? What makes you one?

Sure, a man will reach high places, fix things, grill like a champ, be on bug removal duty and fart on you from time to time. He will also laugh at the word “duty” in the previous sentence. Because he truly thinks you will like it or because he’s trying to be funny, he might also send you a picture of his ween. But what else?

To me, a man is loyal, focused, honest and an equal. A man is a role model to his children. A man owns up, dances (sometimes, though I prefer often), and can apologize. He is protective. Without thinking, a man gets the door. He allows himself to be emotional with you. A man won’t whine to his friends about you to seem cool.

Also, a man will inspire you to live without fear and forget regret.  He will make sure you always feel like you are the most beautiful, confident woman in the room…oh wait, my bad, now I’m just thinking of alcohol.

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My Male Order Husband

7 May

See what I did there? Fun.

Since searching for true love feels like being hit by a train, I’ve decided to just go ahead and order a husband. I did some research and found some real gems. It was hard, but I have narrowed it down to these 3 dreamy guys:

Boris (left), Gntlbeast and Vladimir (right)

They all seem great and as you can see, each candidate has chosen his best photo, making this a difficult choice. Based on the photo alone, Gntlbeast is a no-brainer. He is gentle and he likes unicorns. What’s not to love? He has a mustache, too–bonus. Now I shall present their website descriptions. Which would you choose? Any feedback will be appreciated. This is my future husband, after all. Husbands from Ukraine don’t come cheap, folks.

Boris

I am a well-wishing man from Ukraine. I love art, intellectual dialogues, going to the nature. I write pictures and sell my works. I love cats, corresponding. I am strong and brave. Romantic a little bit. I like to cook. Sometimes I want to taste you in my dishes.

I have never been to abroad but I want to meet a girl there who has the light eyes, desirably never married before, open in sex. I can respects a lady. Frankly it does not matter what girl she is…. Every girl is always nice!

Gntlbeast

I am a calm tempered man. As every man I dream about my own family. I see her beautiful and slim. Blonder. Black hair is good also.

Vladimir

Hallo! My name Vladimir. I have wife but do not love her. I have child in secondary school 1 girl my wife making me stay home feed child. I would like to leave her very much so and find sexful lady. I enjoy to  trampoline much. Father being Starshina in CCCP Red Army but they shoot for he being looting after Ukraine independent. I come from military family but no military I am peace and love all the way. Hey! USA!

Before I lose hair it of sexy style. I dress professional in week and “letting loose” on weekend to be sexy for dance party in disco club. I want to dance with goodest dancer in USA. Good are you?

You see, I am looking for sexful lady with romance in life and living. I am young, live fast, I need fast lady to keep up with my speedy. Must be very slim under 45 kilogram. I like personality to maybe you like my personality and we “hitting it off” as say in USA!

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Stuff I did on Ambien

3 May

I was so stressed in college that I needed to take Ambien to sleep at night. Doctors should prescribe “drinking too much” for sleep issues because I swear to you that Ambien gave me the same side effects as a bottle of wine (or 2). I am sure you have seen the commercials and heard the list of precautions/complex behavior warnings.

 

Ambien may prompt:

Sleep-driving. Check. I drove to my parents house in the middle of the night with no memory of it. Yikes.

Visual hallucinations. Check. I asked my roommate Kelli where she got her parrot and why she was dressed like a pirate. That poor girl probably thought I was nuts.

Sleepwalking. Check.  I visited friends down the hall and had full conversations. The next day I would have to ask if it was a dream or real life.

Sleep-eating. Check. I walked into someone’s dorm room in the middle of the night and took her skittles and fruit with no memory of it. I woke up in bed with skittles all over me the next morning.

Sleep-sexy time. Not Check. If you and your partner take Ambien before sex, chances are you will both take off your clothes, start something sexy and either pass out or not remember anything that happened. That sounds lame. My opinion is it wouldn’t make things hotter, although you may remember that  Tiger Woods was a fan.

So, are there other precautions the commercial doesn’t mention? You bet:

Sleep-dancing. Ambien and the internet worked together to teach me the Carmen Electra booty shake and the Carlton dance (and I am proud to say I am still a pro at both):


Sleep-mooning. If I was in any way well-known on my college campus, it was because I would leave the room and moon people after taking Ambien. I came back from Christmas break to a picture of my butt taped to our dorm room door. Also, one time I fell in the snow whilst mooning and as you can imagine, it gave a whole new meaning to “freezing my ass off.”

Sleep-writing in my journal: Written journal entries trailed slowly down the page into illegible squiggles. I have a whole journal of this!

Lastly, my greatest achievement while taking Ambien…sleep-shopping. The little (big) gem below is my favorite sleep-shopping purchase. It is a life-size cardboard cutout of the hobbits from Lord of the Rings that was delivered one fine afternoon to my parents’ house while I was away at school. My dad called with a number of questions, but I had no recollection of buying it. I still have these guys because, I mean, it’s pretty funny. I could have purchased anything that the internet offers, but I went with life-size hobbits. Maybe Ambien just wanted to release and please my inner geek? Who knows. Whatever, I still love these guys.

 

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Where do you want to be right now?

30 Apr

I am taking off this week due to an arm/elbow issue (nerve entrapment) that seems to get very angry at me when I work/write and spend too much time on WordPress. This puts a damper on my spirits because, well, one is my job and the other is what I do when I take frequent breaks from my job. Also, I was in an effing car accident last night and I have a sore throat. If anyone knows how to exorcise the crappy luck demons, that would be fabulous.

 

Maybe I just need to get away.

 

If you could be anywhere in the world right now, where would it be and why? I know where I would be (and where I will escape to in my imagination all day):

 

Bora Bora, bitches.

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