Silence of The Mexicans

Creepy. I imagine him dragging my lifeless body through the leaves in the back yard. My legs seem to make a small trail leading to the broken down shack that remains. He looks down at me as my body thumps onto the work bench. "Ho la Como Est as?"
I think I have a stalker. I think that they are supposed to be secretive. But unfortunately this one is not. His name...Nurry. His purpose? To fill his imagination with wicked dreams about me! Now this has been accruing for a long time. Actually since I started my job. I let it go. Being from Georgia, we have our fair share of Mexican men. In Griffin the population doubles. And for a Caucasian girl, 99 percent of the time if you walk past a Mexican. They are going to hit on you. Who knows, there are plenty of reasons I suppose. The most I have heard is that they just like white girls or they want a green card so they wish to marry. That one has been done to me a few times. Nurry is Mexican. Nurry speaks little English. Imagine a Super Mario Impersonator starring at you all day. I'm not talking from across the room here. I will come to the dish room to put away dishes and he is litteraly standing less then a foot away from me, gawking at me like some circus monkey. He asks me on dates EVERY time I work with him. I tell him I am engaged, I don't know how to make him understand. But whatever.

He is also obsessed with a friend of mine. He loves her butt. She has only seen him once and he knows where she works, what car she drives. Its super creepy. I imagine him killing me through that creepy wide grin of his. I scared him though. Today when he was staring at me. Doing his less then one foot away from me thing, I paused. Laughed to myself for a minute, then screamed as loud as I could in his direction. I think he peed his pants.

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I Mean Really? - Get Over It.

I Need Some French Cries and A Whamburger!

If you haven't heard, President Obama bowed to the Japanese Emperor Akihito. For some odd reason, this showing of respect has enraged many Americans. Look on CNN or other Blog pages and you'll see what I'm talking about. Jeeze the man can't even take a piss without someone looking down on him.

What's the big deal? It is Japanese tradition to bow to people that you have respect for. When bowing you are showing the other person that you trust them completely, that you show your neck out of fear and respect. Showing them that you are not afraid that they will kill you. It shows trust. And right now America needs a little trust from other countries, let alone our own.

Many people say that Obama bowing like this shows that America is weak. That an American President should not bow to a foreign one. Well people AMERICA IS WEAK right now. Why? You may ask?

1. Over 60 percent of Americansare obese


2. There is little to no support for our armies or government.


3. We spend too much time b!tching about a problem instead of fixing it.


4. Our economy blows.


5. We don't beleive in our President.


6. Half of the people don't even know what the hell is going on in politics let alone the real world.

As a country, America is Lazy. Obama is really trying his best to get us out of the gutter. America is a car on the side of the road, stuck in the mud and he is just trying to get a freakin car to stop and help us. WE NEED HELP. Yeah I know its kind of strange becuase 90 percent of the time people are coming to us about thier problems. But right now Americans can't afford to be stuck up. You win more bees with honey than vinegar.

\m/><\m/-Knuckles

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Love Versus Infatuation

For those who don’t seem to know. Just my opinion.

Infatuation is instant desire, hormonal, and irrational. It is one set of glands calling to another. Love is friendship that has caught fire: It is organic; it takes root and grows one day at a time. Infatuation is marked by feelings of insecurity. You are excited and eager, but not genuinely happy. There are always nagging doubts, unanswered questions, and little bits and pieces about your significant other that you would rather not examine too closely: It might spoil the dream. Love is unconditional; Infatuation has expectations. Love is requited. Infatuation is unbalanced.

Love is the quiet understanding and mature acceptance of imperfection. You love them despite their flaws because they love you despite yours. Love is real. It gives you strength and grows beyond you, to bolster your significant other. You are warmed by their presence, even when they are away. Miles do not separate you. You want them near, but near or far you know they are yours and you can wait. Love is stronger than distance; you both need to live your lives: you are an intricate part of their life. You are not solely their life.

Infatuation says, “You must get married right away. You can't risk losing them." Love says, "Be patient. They are already yours. Plan your future with confidence and security. Love and want the best for them. They deserve it." Infatuation has an element of sexual excitement. Whenever you are in one another's company you are hoping it will end in intimacy. True love waits. You want to experience love with them, not lust. You want the best for them, and would never allow something to get in the way of the future you know they deserve. Love is the maturation of friendship. You must be friends before you can be lovers. Infatuation lacks confidence. When they're away, you wonder if they're cheating. Sometimes you check.

But love means trust. You are calm, secure, and unthreatened. They feel your trust and it makes them even more trustworthy. Infatuation might lead you to do things you'll regret later, but love never will. Love lifts you up. It makes you look up. It makes you think up. It makes you a better person than you were before.

From Corinthians 13
4Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, and always perseveres.
8Love never fails.

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Bow Down Daisy Duke

Ah, women. We're beautiful, we're fun, we're smart. Not to brag, but we've got a lot going for us. But of course, we do have our #1 universal achilles heel, and I believe we all know what that is. Some blame it on PMS, revenge on that awful boyfriend, being overly-stressed, but truth is, we all have a, pardon my lack for a better word, b!tchy streak. I'll refer to it as "The Streak" from now on. This is a tale of one of mine....

High school. Need I say more? Why on earth would I date a sophomore when I was a SENIOR?!?! idk, maybe I was feeling a little Demi Moore-esque, but this certain guy was no Ashton Kutcher. His name was Hunter, and he was cute. I'll give him that. You know, he was muscular. He didn't look much like a sophomore in the body, but he definitely still had a baby-face. This particular boy was the average young player. Hunter was the type to date girls and leave them at the drop of a hat. He did it to quite a few of the younger girls I knew. Not only that but he hit on EVERYONE. It got annoying. So "The Streak" decided it wanted to come out and have some fun. It told me that we were going to play a little game. HIS game. We would lead him on, make him want me. We would date him. We would leave him. Sounded like a good plan to me! The plan was easy to get going, considering he was like a male dog humping anything he could find. Plus I was the "older, more experience woman." Let me go ahead and say this, I am a virgin. So I am not all that "experienced" in that since of the term. To him, however, it was new, uncharted territory. A chance to look like the big man on campus, with the older girl, etc, etc... So I took a while to actually date him. You know, wanted to take it slow. (Revenge is best served cold, you know. The slower and longer it took, the better.) I dated him. Kid wasn't too bad. A bit of a perv, and WAYYYY too easily excited, if you know what I mean, but he wasn't a bad kisser, nor did he do too many embarrassing things. Then we became official, and I let that go on for a few weeks. Then, we got into a fight (provoked by me, of course) and we broke up. Then it got even better! He wanted me back. Exactly the way I wanted it. I had him in the palm of my hand. After getting past the whole angry time after a break up, I "forgave" him and we began flirting again. I mean, I sort of liked him, but this was getting hilarious. "The Streak" especially loved it when he was like my little puppy dog. I would look at him when he was ahead of me in the lunch line, and as soon as he got out, he would come straight to me, give me a kiss on the cheek, and go to our table and wait for me. He would carry my book bag for me, and get things for me when I needed them. As I said, palm of my hand. All the girls loved it. He was to me what they always were to him, a little pawn in this love-game (no, not the Lady GaGa song... geez). Me and my friends would sing a little song by Rooney that reminded us of it and made us laugh. It went "You don't know me so well, I think you know that now. I'm unbreakable. There's no need for fragile stickers. You're too young for me, but I can keep a secret. I'm in total control of the situation. Bow down Daisy Duke." Of course it all ended, exactly how I wanted it to. And then I realized, from the song, what was going on. I was the guy in the relationship. Had him in the palm of my hand. It was just like the Rooney song, where the guy was singing to the girl. It all clicked at that very moment. "The Streak" isn't just for us ladies, it just stands out more prominently in us. "The Streak" is in everyone, male or female. Just for some reason, when it's a girl, we're PMSing or overly-stressed, or something. When it's a guy acting like I did? He's a playa. A pimp. He's cool. The girl, well we know exactly what everyone would think of her. It just goes back to a very common double standard. A guy sleeps with every girl he can and he's cool. A playa. A pimp. A girl sleeps with everyone she can, and she's a slut. I'm not trying to promote sleeping with everyone you can here, I'm just throwing that out there.

So it's "The Streak."

Everyone experiences it.

Got a story about yours? Send it in to the site, and I may just post it on here.

;) Fun Sized

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Curious George

So, I go to this party last night. It wasn't a big one or anything, a tiny little celebration for my friend/co-worker. The party already was a flop, consisting of::
1.) The drunken Birthday Girl
2.) a Lesbian
3.) 2 butch Lesbians/"Studds"
4.) A tran-sexual ((Who makes a very pretty girl.))
5.) A rather quiet bi-polar co-worker.
6.) A white boy thug AKA boyfriend of the birthday girl.
7.) and...GEORGE.

People came and left, but these were the main people at the party. At first the party was kinda lame. The birthday girl, drunk out of her mind, grinding on everyone and everything, then randomly getting upset because apparently she thinks that her boyfriend is cheating on her. ((this boy looks and talks like Sylvester Stalone.)) The drama was getting to me because well, I'm not a drama kind of person: I avoid it at all costs.
This is why I was happy to see George at the party. Me and everyone else at the party were pretty cool. But him and I were closer friends and could conversate about something else. I hadn't planned to stay, but George begged me not to leave him there alone with all of those people. We then decide that we are going to go to Mcdonalds. We take one of the Studds with us.
Half-way down the road, I realize how drunk George has become. He then pulls out two more beers from his pockets. I begin to think things over.
1.) I'm pretty sure this guy isn't 21
2.) Will I get into trouble because he isn't and I am?
3.) Open beer in the car = BAD
My guard is immediately up. He's laughing, having a good time, and I have become quiet, concentrating on driving more normal than anyone else so a police officer doesnt have the sudden need to pull over this little Escort. I then I hear this from my passenger seat.
George:: You are so cool man. Im glad that we got to hang out tonight.
I smile at his drunken slurs and stupidity.
George:: Oh man, you're going to get mad at what Im about to do.
Me:: You better not throw up in my car!
As soon as my head turns he lands a slobbery mess of a kiss on me.
I mean really?!!! This is bad because::
1.) I'm engaged.
2.) I didn't even know he liked me because he was sleeping with some other girl at our job.
3.) I seriously have to work with him the next day.
4.) I need to go home.
I take them to Walmart to get some Mcdonalds as he pounds drunk kiss after drunk kiss on my cheek. I was like a ninja, as long as he didnt get to my mouth, I would be okay.
We get back and he decides that he's going to confess his love for me to everyone at the party. I want to leave, but Birthday girl begs me to take her to the gas station for ciggarettes, I take her and my sick love puppy comes with us.
1.) He tries to fight a friend of mine because he huged me.
2.) My friend is a black belt.
3.) He decides he wants to bite BDAY girls finger
4.) While driving, he is determined to kiss my lips because I won't let him.
5.) We almost slam into a guard rail.
6.) He manages to knock the car into Neutral while a semi is behind us.
I take them home and leave. This is enough for me.
It just amazes me how the coolest of people can become a drunk monster in a matter of seconds. Im not against drinking, I am against these assholes who can single handedly ruin a party.
\m/><\m/-Knuckles

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Ah, the magic of puppets...

TMZ has recently posted a section of pictures you will (unless you've been hiding under a rock the last ten years) find hilariously entertaining. They are famous people and their "twin" puppets. (Muppets like Kermit, to Sesame Street characters like Big Bird) Now, silly it does sound, I am not in denial of this. First step to my TMZ recovery, I know. HOWEVER, if you look at these pictures you will see the resemblance and it could make your day. They show Big Bird's looks compared to the queen of England. Also, they show Lindsey Lohan's resemblance to the muppet Sleeping Beauty (oh how we wish Lindsey Lohan would actually just go to sleep and not wake up until a prince kisses her.... Samantha Ronson will never be a man no matter how hard she tries, after all.). One of my personal favorites is Screech (you know, Saved by the Bell? Hey, don't judge me, I'm a 90's child) compared to Grover. And I seem to believe that Adam Sandler may truly be doing the voice for Count von Count off of Sesame Street now that they have tied the two together.

All the same, it's time you take a look for yourself. the link is:

http://photos.tmz.com/galleries/hollywood_muppets#22424

Enjoy!

;) Fun Sized

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Sweet Jesus.

Im going to warn you, this is going to be a little gross.

Have you ever had one of those misfortunate incidents where you are out in the horrid public and your poor little tummy rumbles to let you know that you need to take the Browns to the Super Bowl? Your upset, and you certainly dont want to use a public bathroom for your private event, but you have to. Its one of those now or in your pants kind of events. One of those kind of events that makes you walk all bow-legged all the way to the bathroom while people watch assuming that you only walk that way because you engage in some sort of hideous sexual tendencies. You get to the bathroom "thank you jesus" you say in your head as you attempt the fastes lining of the toilet seat you can. You take the toilet tissue and surround the germ infested thrown with its sweet, thin protection and plop your little tushie down. You go to let the beast out and instead of the over whelming delite of being free from this tearony a huge mega FART erupts from within you and is only made ten times louder by the toilet seat itself. "Oh how you betray me." you think to yourself, humiliated because it just happens to be lunch time and everybody and their mother is in the bathroom. You quickly realize through the embarrisment and the snickering and the sound of the baby crying that this isnt going to be a swift bomb drop. This is going to be a horrid event. A back up at the chocolate factory and the chocolate river deems destruction. You brace yourself as the loud thunder blows. You try to quiet the thunder all that you cant, but this only seems to disturb the toilet more and in his aweful asshole-ness it only makes it louder. After the tummy has settled, you sit there for a moment. Just to make sure that the hurt in your stomach isnt one of more chocolate wealth. You realize soon that your stomach hurts due to the overwelming stench of the road kill you just gave birth to. You wipe, feeling bad for all the little trees it took to make the huge ball of toilet paper you had to use. You flush the toilet looking down at that aweful jerk and giving it a good f*ck you. You walk quietly out of the stall to the sinks. They are all looking at you. They know that you are the one who just contaminated their lungs and blew their minds. The only thing you can do now comrad is walk out of the restroom with what remains of your dignity.

\m/><\m/-Knuckles



P.S. So this reminded me of an event that happened to me a few days ago. I was called to jury duty and out of 50 people I was one of six jurors picked. My fellow jurors were well, three women over the age of 60 and two men over the age of 40, and me. Makes sense, I don't know. But during the lunch break my friend asks me if I want to go with her to a pizza place while I am waiting for this awful event to continue. I go and quickly regret it as I sit in the jurors box during the case. While the lawyers are up doing their blady-blah-blah, one snuck out of me. One of those silent an deadly mother-f*ckers. It couldn't me helped, there was nothing that I could do. Oh and it stank up the whole court room. They just kept coming all during the case. This made me entirely grateful for the jurors that they picked. I would never be suspected of this awful deed amongst three old ladies and two middle aged men. Not guilty.

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"Not Now, Honey. Mommy's on Facebook..."

When you hit the wonderful college years, you expect freedom. You expect independence from your parents. You expect parties and good times, and hey maybe some classes here or there. And I say this again [as it is most important to the sanity of us all], you expect INDEPENDENCE. You don't, however, expect your past-middle-aged mother to send you a friend request on facebook. But, alas, such is my life, along with many a person I know. Now, this atrocity could be further analyzed slash forgiven if your mother is any of the following:

-under the age of forty.
-under the age of 35 in spirit (if over my first requirement).
-someone in desperate need of networking.
-a celebrity. Or....
-at all technologically literate.

However, my mom is not. These requirements, in my mind, seem perfectly reasonable, if not NECESSARY. I mean what do you even do in this situation, with a mother trying to add you?? I'll tell you what I'm doing. DENYING said friend request, and blocking my mom. What good will adding her POSSIBLY do? Would you enjoy daily “I love you” wall posts from her? Would you like pesky comments on that slightly revealing, yet perfectly skankless skirt you wore in your profile pics? Do you enjoy your mother knowing every little thing you do and reading into every little thing you say? I think not. So, I hereby impose an age limit to facebook. This may seem a little drastic, but trust me, the world would be a lot easier without your mom leaving posts on your wall saying “I love you snookums. Oh, and here's a link to one of your baby pictures when you were naked in the bathtub.”

Side note: Besides this, how about an IQ limit if you want to have babies? Just thought I'd throw that one out there.
;) Fun Sized

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"Um, I'd like a Diet Coke with that."

Something I have noticed, and I have been noticing for a while now, is people who diet. Honestly, it doesn’t make sense to me at all. Why go through the drive thru of Mc Donald’s and as for a number 2 with extra bacon? And why tell the cashier you want a Diet Coke with that? Or why go to a buffet and I don’t know, eat like ten plates of food and wonder why your Diet Coke isn’t being refilled? What’s the point people? I would understand if you had a salad or some sort of low calorie meal in front of you, but if you have the greasiest "Can a$$ be any bigger?" meal in front of you, there is no point! I’m sorry to tell you this baby doll, but judging by the overlapping belly and the double chin, you are losing the war! Drink water! Be healthy! And yeah, I know that some people are diabetics blah! Blah! Blah! I’m just saying this about people who aren’t. Don’t get your pretty knickers in a wad. If you're going to eat something greasy and unhealthy, just go all out! Get that freaking Dr. Pepper! Ask the waitress to put two scoops of sugar in that syrupy mix! Your thighs deserve it!
\m/ >< \m/ - Knuckles.

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Fresh Prince of the 90's

Look closely and realize that this picture epitomizes the nineties, while also realizing how grateful you should be that it is now 2009. From the Jurrasic aged video game system, to Will Smith and his pastel Saved-By-The-Bell-esque clothes, this picture is a trip down memory lane you'll need your TomTom to find a way out of, stat.

PS. I do mis 90's Mariah though. Dear Jesus, please return her voice to me, that hooker just can't sing like she used to. Also, please kill Nick Cannon on the trainwreck it looks like he came out of. Amen.

PSS. I think I still wear hats like this. Why hasn't anyone attempted an intervention with me?

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Happy Halloween!

Not quite Christmas, but better than a slew of other holidays: Halloween is here!
Unfortunately, I'm working. I'm pretty sure Knuckles is working too. This is terrible. I had a party to DJ at too, but since Halloween is [not] known to be such a busy day for the Cinema industry, I completely understand the need for everyone in the world to ask off and everyone else to have to work a 34 hour shift. Lame.

I think I'm going to work dressed as Flava Flav. That would be a head turner.
Regardless, whether you be "trick or treat"-ing, working, or seeking some party to get "krunk" at, Happy Halloween!

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