The Pigeon and the Power-Walker

The title sounds enchanting like a Grimm's' Brothers fairytale, but I assure you - it is no such thing.

I shall proceed....

This morning I was walking to work with latte in hand, music in ear, and dread in my heart. In fact, my music was so loud that I was completely unaware of the noises around me -- including the power-walker in his loud wind pants and the muffled "i'm dying" noises from a pigeon on the sidewalk.

I think you can see where this is going.

I was in my own world, until at the very last minute I noticed an extremely obese pigeon face planted in the middle of the sidewalk. In a split second I started to take an abrupt step to the right to avoid the carcass, but was SIDE SWIPED by the power walker to my right. Not only was I hip-checked and punched by his ever-so-intensely pumping fists, but I may have gotten wind burn -- from, yes, his wind breaker.

With my right "lane" blocked by said douchebag, I was forced to step towards the pigeon. Thankfully, I used my long limps to stretch my leg as far forward as possible to miss the bird completely.

It was horrifying: both the prospect of stepping on the sidewalk-kill and the pigeon's apparent ignorance about trans fats and carbs after 10 p.m.

Lesson learned.

The Gift That Says "I Own Your Balls"

Valentine's Day is soon approaching, and for all of you that are still racking your brains searching for the perfect gift, well, look no further.



SMITTENS! The number one way to own your significant other's balls.


This gift not only says "I own you," but it also challenges your boyfriend or husband's manhood. What will he choose - you and your junky gift, or his masculinity.


These gems can be found at Restoration Hardware. Yeah, this is seriously a product. No photo shopping was involved in this post.


Note: Thanks to CrunchGear (http://www.crunchgear.com/) for bringing this ridiculousness to my attention.

Theraflu Tastes Like Warm Vomit

A little bit about me: I have an awful cold and have been in bed the last three days ill and deliriously shouting out non-sequitors like : I was born in a canoe; My hair tastes like candy canes; Phil Collins is allergic to peanuts.

Let's fast forward to today: my friend Lindsey suggested that I try some magical medicine called Theraflu to get better quicker. As such I made the four-block trek to Walgreen's and feasted my eyes on the packaging that said "Severe Cough and Cold." While reaching for the box I remembered Lindsey's warnings about the flavors: Only get lemon or citrus... the others are disgusting... remember... berry isn't merry.

Well god dammit I forgot the last little jingle she came up with, and sure enough the Severe Cold and Cough was berry flavored. I can honestly say that the flavor would be much more accurate if it were called "warm soothing vomit." I mean, it really truly tastes like vomit. In fact, now I feel like I have to go vomit.

UGH when will the madness end??!?!?!?

Buyer Beware: Grandma Candy Virtually Ignored at Hood Supermarket

As you all may know from a previous post, I have an affinity for grandma candy, Good & Plenty, in particular. I'm not going to point any fingers, (SAFEWAY IN WESTERN ADDITION aka "The Hood"), but not everyone feels the same way. And that hurts.

I was at safeway stocking up on potatoless and beanless soup (truly a challenge) and as I went to the check-out lane i noticed that the candy that my heart yearns for was, well, not in high demand. Only because I took pity on the overflowing number of purple boxes did I purchase one box.

That was my last pleasant memory of the licorice treats. When I got home I opened up the box, full of anticipation like a 5 yr old on Christmas morning. I took my first handful and my god, it was awful. It was like chewing on tar maybe even hardened concrete- i'm not sure which would be worse.

It seems as though the box had been sitting on the shelf for a minimum of 2 years. Are the Good & Plentys victim of the recession? Or a victim of evolving tastes? I suspect the latter of the two -- all the young whipper snappers out and about craving their chili cheese fritos and sour patch kids. It makes me sick to my stomach that the joy that is licorice has gone out of style. At least in the hood.

We must band together if we want to see quality Good & Plentys in the future.

Delicious Oatmeal Spurs Questions

First and foremost, I love oatmeal. But that's not to say I don't grow tired of eating it daily. Maple and brown sugar is my standard, and I don't like to wander. Well, not until last night.

Last night I was perusing the aisles of Whole Foods when a beam of light was shining from above onto (are you ready for this?) CHOCOLATE ALMOND OATMEAL. Oh sweet jesus, I became giddy with this prospect - could it be? chocolate for breakfast? 160 calories? organic?

I'm here to tell you it's all true. It's the most delicious thing ever created. But that is not where the blog ends...

You see, I found myself wondering "who is this Dr. Weil character, and why is he so wonderful with his chocolate oatmeal?" The question led me to this photo:

WHAT???? Why is Dr. Weil naked and hugging a tree?

So many questions. So little answers.

Sweet sweet revenge

If this isn't karma, I don't know what is.

Political commentHATEr and rhetorical threat to society, Ann Coulter, has had her hate-spewing jaw wired shut. That's Right!! She is unable to speak (enter "Amen" and "Hallelujah" here)!

While official word is still out regarding how she broke her jaw, I'm going to go out on a limb and guess it was injured while kissing Dick Cheney's ass.

Not only is she unable to verbally attack everything that moves, but she has to postpone recording the audio version of her upcoming book.

Cue: Luck be a ladyyyyy toooooonight http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W6RTIMmJxaQ

God says NO in mysterious ways

It was 3 o'clock on gloomy Monday when I decided to take a stroll outside with my sister from another (albeit shorter) mister, Brittani. We hit up Starbucks despite the money and calorie fairy advising me to do otherwise. Additionally I had a meeting in ten minutes so time was of the essence...

Things quickly went awry as God started working his evil black magic through the barristas. Suddenly they are shouting out that my trusty sidekick and I ordered teas instead of the oh-so-indulgent peppermint mocha twist. After we corrected them of their blatant error we had to wait for them to re-do the orders. Then they screwed up the whipped cream order and gave Britt nothing and me that blasted topping - so there were issues there. Once we had it sorted out we were back on our way...

T-minus 2 minutes to get back to the office. Oh shit, I'm going down in a blaze of glory. I picked up my speed and took advantage of my long legs (extra long with some rockin' heels on today). I was at full stride and near my destination when BLOODY HELL I lost my footing and my delicious peppermint mocha twist erupted in a volcano-like fury all over my jacket and jeans.

Long story short: God doesn't want me to have peppermint mochas. Booo God, boooo.