A Stranger Sat on Me... Seriously

Disclaimer: I do not have a pre-existed prejudice against obese people. The story below only illustrates one incident, and should not be interpreted as a hate-story against any group of people.

Anddddddddddd we're back:

I was on the bus this morning to go to work and sat at the very front. I was enjoying my ride until an extremely extremely extremely obese person boarded the bus and looked at the girl next to me and goes "Excuse me. I need to sit." (annoying). So the girl next to me gets up and this lady sits down - but was way too big to fit into the seat, so she spilled over to my seat. And started like wiggling her ass to get further down into the seat -- coincidentally pushing me out. Before I could even consider an exit strategy, she stood up momentarily and violently plopped back down, half of her body fully ON TOP OF ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What kills me is she wasn't embarrassed. In fact, she did it on purpose. I know this because she rudely sighed, glared at me, and said "excuse you. I'm trying to sit" I was shocked. That woman had no shame.

Ok- I feel like you don't get it. I feel like you're reading this - and not understanding that a 400 lb person literally took up 1 and 3/4 seats on the bus -- and one of those seats was already occupied by ME.

I saw the look of horror from the other bus riders. I knew they wanted to help - but it was too little too late. My right leg and hip began to go numb (this happened in a matter of seconds). I would have let out a cry for her to have mercy on me, but alas, she took all the air out of me. I finagled myself out from under her and finally broke free.

I'm still experiencing nerve damage.

You Know You Suck at Your Job When....

... your co-worker sends you the above e-card in response to you incoherent work emails.

Stop Eating!!!!!!

For those of you that know me (lucky), you likely know I'm a very finicky eater. And even the smell of certain foods can result in an anxiety attack or violent vomiting.

I despise many, many foods. On the most hated foods list appears: Beans, Potatoes and Cheez-its. Yes, Cheez-its. You may know them as the "Big Cheese Taste." But I know them as 26 by 24 mm of hell.

Well guess who loves those sharp yellow cheese crackers? My loud-breathing, loud-eating junky Phyllis look-alike neighbor. Seriously, who the F eats Cheez-its at 8 a.m.???? The stench makes me gag and not only do I smell it, but I HEAR it.

I hear her pudgy little fingers reaching in the box getting a grip on a giant handful. I hear her loudly breathing through her nose while she shoves the food in her mouth, And I can hear those crunchy snack bites melting away in her mouth.

I can't take it. But what do I say? "Hi. Can you stop eating? It really bothers me."

I'm putting on my ipod now. Ti's my only hope for sanity...

Shamed at a Graveyard

While most of you likely spent the day either drinking or sobering up, I was up bright and early yesterday at a Memorial Day ceremony at the Fort Mason cemetery.

Before you start thinking I'm patriotic or a good person in general, let me tell you that I started wandering during the ceremony and stumbled upon some old cars. Because I've lived a sheltered (albeit good) life, I thought these old 1940s cars were just especially shiny for no reason and it was my duty to open the doors and jump in. You know... get in the war spirit... go back to the WW2 days...

Old patriotic-dressed woman in other shiny car: "PPPPPLLLLLEAASEEE don't touch the cars!!!!!!!!"

Just-as-old man with a thick NON patriotic accent: "YEAH!! How would you like it if I broke into your car????!?!!"

Confused Sassy Chica (slowly walking towards them): "oh, I wouldn't like that at all... I.. I .. didn't know..."

Just-as-old man with a thick NON patriotic accent: "That's what I thought. SHOW SOME RESPECT!"

Still confused sassy chica: "I'm really sorry, I... I just saw you guys in this car and so I thought it was ok to get in...I ... I didn't know..."

Old patriotic-dressed woman in other shiny car: "WE OWN THIS CAR!!!!! Show some respect!!"

Sassy chica: "Ok, you know what? I said I'm sorry, I didn't know, and you really need to stop with the attitude."

After I said my peace I felt so shamed by my elderly forefathers that I started crying out of pure guilt. Yes. Me. Shamed to tears... I of course exited the cemetery as soon as possible to avoid all sympathetic "oh, did your grandpa die in the war?"faces.

Cue taps.

Satanic Snack Packs

"Oh, 100 calorie snack packs! CUTE!"

Oh, how naive I once was...

Back then (last week), I didn't know the dangers of these individually wrapped crack-laced snacks. Safeway had a special and I grabbed two $5 boxes: One was Ritz cracker/chips, the other chocolate covered pretzels.

*Note: Quotations mark beginning and end of inner dialogue

I opened the first little bag "Ooooooo these are delicious!! And only 100 calories!!"

2 seconds later, "Shit. They are gone. There were like four in there. Well, I'll have one more bag, it's only 100 calories."

30 minutes later: "Ugh. I'm still hungry. If only I had a snack nearby... Oh wait!! Those 100 calorie snack packs... that would be a great idea- and they are sooo tasty."

30.5 minutes later: "F word. I just had three snack packs in thirty minutes. That's 300 calories. That's more than a candy bar -- stupid snack packs! I hate you."

1 hour later: "Stop staring at me, snack pack!! I already had three of you today!! I don't want anymore!!"

1 hour and 1 minute later: "Ah, what's one more?"

1 hour and 1.5 minutes later: "I cant believe I did it again. I am throwing these evil doers away!" (two remaining snack packs in hand... my hand shaking over the garbage....) "I can't do it, I'll need a snack tomorrow. I'll just finish them then and never buy them again."

2 hours later: "Ugh, I'm going to the gym right after work -- I'm still hungry. I should really eat more for lunch. Hmmm I should get something so I don't die working out... (eyes glancing down at my drawer) ... hmm maybe I have some fruit in this drawer (even though I know I don't)... (slowly opening drawer, peering inside) ... Drats, only snack packs inside.... Welllllll, I mean, at this point I may as well have the whole box"

2 hours and one minute later: "I vow to never buy those again. They are EVIL"

Next Day: Off to Safeway to buy more snack packs.

What My Legs Have in Common with Dick Cheney's Quail Hunting Friend

As a previous blog posting reports, I do not currently have a functioning right hand. This means shaving my legs is more like self-mutilation than personal upkeep.

My legs look similar to Dick Cheney's friend's (Harry Whittington) face after he was hit with birdshot pellets. I'm happy to report I have not yet suffered a silent heart attack from these wounds. If only Harry had been so lucky...

How Not to Open a Beer Bottle

This past weekend was the craziest day of the year in San Francisco: Bay 2 Breakers.

For those of you that are unfamiliar, I'll sum it up: 20,000 people who are either naked or costumed (normal dressers NOT allowed),who all start drinking at 7 a.m., and drink throughout the 7 mile course through the city, many wheeling behind them kegs or shopping carts full of sweet sweet nectar.

On this shit-show of a day, I lost one of my greatest gifts: my ability to type and bring laughter to the world.

As I type before you, I type one-handed, like one of my past bosses who was 34, but still never learned how to type.

The incident happened at approximately 10 a.m. Sunday morning, after 3 hours of vodka. My severely intoxicated friend stole beer bottles from someones shopping cart and gave one to me. I found myself bottle opener-less, and decided to open the bottle by taking it in my hand, and smashing it against the curb.

Yep. I'm officially the dumbest person in the world.

As 99% of you know, that resulted in having the entire bottle blow up in hand, causing glass to shred all five fingers and the palm of my hand. But a true warrior, I pressed on, kept drinking (and bleeding), and literally took the shirts from the backs of others to wrap my hand.

Sunday I was a hero. Today I am a fool; a one-handed fool.