who's up for pretending to ride a bike while laying on a bed?

Anyone? Anyone? Buehler?

Although it is not unusual for me to completely drop the ball w/r/t blogging, this might be the first time I have ever had a really, really, really good reason.

In a nutshell...

Two days after my last post, I spent the day in the ER and almost died because of the swine flu. But not really. I was in the ER all day, but it was not because of the swine flu. Not sure exactly what it was yet. I go back in for some more follow-up shiz this upcoming week. Cross your fingers.

I'd like to wait until then to broadcast anything more.

Anyway!

I thought I'd break back into blogging today. Why not? Thursdays are awesome. Not as awesome as Fridays, but they're pretty damn close, if only logistically.

For my first effort this round, I'd like to re-visit one of my favorite passive aggressive encounters of all time.

Once upon a time, I bought a margarita pizza from Maria's in Ferndale and it was delicious. I brought the pizza home and wanted to ensure that my abundance of leftovers would at least make it through the night and hopefully a few days beyond that. So. I left a note on the top of the box, on top of the stove and then went to meet some friends for drinks. This is the note:



When I came home, I thought to myself, "you know what would be really delicious right now? some effing margarita pizza."

I went straight for the box and opened it up to find it completely emptied of pizza with this note in its place:



You may or may not recognize the handwriting. It was Paul's. I became so insanely angry in one second that my head started hurting. I exclaimed aloud, "mother fucker! where is my goddamn pizza?! I KNEW IT!!! I swear to god and all that is holy... Mother F! Ugh..." and so on and so forth.

And then, when my cheeks were nice and rosy from my verbal fit of rage I heard laughter. I thought to myself, "oh, what in the holy hell now goddammit."

Paul came walking into the kitchen laughing hysterically. "I am so sorry hahahaha but you should have heard yourself hahaha and you your face hahaha oh man that was totally worth it hahaha i put your pizza in a bag in the fridge. i'm sorry hahaha i just couldn't resist."

"Wait. What? The pizza's in the fridge?!"

"Yes."

"Sweet!"


and now for something lovely...

I may or may not have posted this on here before. But that's ok because I love it so much. And you know, on second that, I hope this is at least the third time I've shared it. It makes me that happy.

Enjoy!

this is least like a bee...

Today is my last day of house arrest/quarantine. I still have the hacking cough but the chills and body aches are almost gone completely. Woo! I've watched a lot of Ugly Betty and a decent number of movies. It's kind of impressive when you think abut it, because I've also slept for what feels like 100 hours.

One of my favorite movies to watch is Best In Show. I've watched it three times in the past 5 days or so.



The above photo was sent to me by my mother a while back. It is in reference to the following scene:



Fun Fact: If you want to get tested for the H1N1, you have to go to a hospital.

Oh, and everywhere I checked, they were out of vaccines. Woo! So, if you're like me (and millions of other Americans) and you don't have health insurance, you'll be told that it's too expensive to get checked unless you feel like you're dying. Preventative medicine? Not so much.

It all felt very Children of Men to me.

Anyway! I'm getting better. I hope you are too or that you're not sick. You know the drill: wash your hands, don't touch your face unless you have, cough into your elbow blahblahblah. IF you do get sick, TheraFlu helped me a lot. And when I say TheraFlu, I mean the store brand version. Oh, and rest a lot. When you think you feel a lot better, rest for one more day and then you will for sure feel even better. Trust me.

Also... I'm almost done editing the band VLOG we shot on Sunday. I am still working on the Columbus VLOG series. Those should be ready by Monday.

maybe you should come back later...

A few months ago, my iPod adapter cassette thing took a dump on me, so I made a quick stop at a Radio Shack near my house before heading into work. The moment I stepped out of my car, I saw this parked next to me:

"Can you say: ridiculo?!"

I am home sick today with the NON H1N1 flu. My entire body aches like I've been run over by a group of angry lineman.

Last night, I scraped myself out of bed to go to the store and pick up a few "remedies" like tea, TheraFlu and a shit ton of juice. As I was standing in line, I noticed some of the clever, last minute, impulse buys displayed near the registers.

There are Magic Gloves



What makes these gloves so magical? I have no idea because the packaging did not include an explanation and/or a list of features. But don't worry, because I could've just bought little Dora socks with feet already in them.



Way to take out the middle man, Ferndale Foods! And lastly...



Yes, you're reading that right: French Toast Children's Tights.

What. The. Hell.

Suzy is pissed.

Location: Employees Only entrance at a downriver 7-11.

There are two sure fire signs that you are awesome at life (besides having a happy bunny keyboard).

1. You get written up for putting bottles and cans in the wrong boxes and/or
2. You take a page from the 7-11 manager Suzy playbook and you are bat shit crazy.

Also...

I heart random capitalization, and possessive cans. Kudos to Suzy for spelling "their" correctly on her second attempt.

thank you?

This one comes with a story...

Not too long ago, Clare found herself the victim of theft. Some sweaty bastard that she works with in NYC stole her Metro card right out of her jacket pocket. She suspected him almost immediately and "confronted" him passive aggressively. It went a little something like this:

CLARE: Hi.
SWEATY BASTARD: Hi. How are you?
CLARE: Shitty. Someone stole my Metro card today and I just put, like, $90 on it. Worst day ever!
SWEATY BASTARD: Wow. That's terrible. I'm sorry to hear that.
CLARE: Thanks. I'm so mad. I mean, why would someone do that?
SWEATY BASTARD: I have no idea. [long pause] I don't even take public transportation. Not a bus or the subway or anything. I ride my bike.
CLARE: [confused] Riiiight...

So, she got an empty card and placed it in her jacket pocket again with the cute little note pictured above.

comb.

Yes, that's a comb sitting on the moulding in a hallway at Domino Farms. Why is it there? You guess is as good as mine.

Maybe it's post-post-post-modern art and I'm just missing the point.

eff you!

I don't know about you guys, but I am still tired from this weekend. It was ridiculously busy, but soooo much fun. It was chock full of friends and family and music and alcohol AND! I crossed "meet Kelly Clarkson" off of my bucket list. I did not have "also, hug her" on there, but I added it real quick and then crossed that mother off too.

I would like to take this opportunity to announce that, contrary to popular belief, Kelly Clarkson is NOT fat. I repeat: NOT fat. She's short and curvy like most of the women in my family. If she is fat, then I am also fat. Seriously. She was gracious and lovely and sweet and down to Earth.

For as ecstatic as I was (and still am) about meeting her, I was also really bummed out. It really drove home the whole body image/low self-esteem bull shit that's constantly re-enforced on the teevee and newsstands and in theatres everywhere across America.

And you know... I understand that it's important to be healthy and that obesity is a serious issue in this nation. BUT, Ms. Clarkson looks normal and healthy. I feel like she only looks fat in comparison to her peers who are more or less twigs.

Take for instance, Brandi Carlile...

First of all, I adore her. I think she's a force of nature and quite possibly one of the greatest artists of all freaking time. But she is so damn skinny, that if she turned sideways, she'd straight up disappear. She looks so "normal" in press photos and videos online that seeing her in person had a jaw dropping effect. 5'3"-ish and 90 lbs. is not "normal".

But, hey. Maybe I'm way off here. What do you think? And please, allow me to preface the following side-by-side comparison with this: 95% of the women in my life are the same size, if not larger, than Kelly Clarkson. I can count the number of "Brandi Carlile"s I know on one hand.

Observe:



I guess my point with all of this is to say that:

1. I love Kelly Clarkson (with all my heart)
2. she is not fat and
3. for the love of all that's sacred, love your curves!!


And now onto what felt like a very appropriate photo-opp for today...

This one goes out to the bitches in the entertainment industry who make us feel like shit, to Mondays, annoying co-workers and to the people who ruin my life every day in the parking structure. You know who you are...



I found this in a nursing administration office. Something tells me, they do no not like their job and/or life.

$200 BEEr

If that beer is not literally the nectar of the gods, you are overpaying.



Happy Friday, bitches!!

May you find cheaper beer than I did.


and on a more serious note...

The Matthew Shepard bill has passed.

There's a lot that I'd like to say on the matter. At present, I am far too overwhelmed to process any of it coherently.

So.

Tonight... If you're feeling so inclined, join me in spirit by raising your glass to progress.

food.

You don't even want to know what was in the other fridge. Let's just say that retrieving the contents required a haz-mat suit and very thick gloves.



pump it like you mean it!

My mother emailed me this sign she found at a gas station. It should be noted that she found this in the same city as the COPYS sign. It has led me to believe that spelling and grammar are not exactly the forte of Trenton gas station owners and/or employees.

road trip!!

First venture to Columbus, Ohio this weekend...

There are many, many photos of actual people and places and there's also a ridiculous amount of video footage to be cut down into manageable bites. I am still completely exhausted and if this gd headache does not go away soon, I will smackabitch. Or something.

Until the series of VLOGS is complete, this station will continue with its regularly scheduled programming.

not Benny & Joon's

Did I just get that "500 miles" song stuck in your head? No? How about now?

I found the following photos in a diner called Jack & Benny's right on the outskirts of downtown Columbus. We were promised a delicious breakfast and that is exactly what we received. It was the perfect hangover fix. They had vintage arcade games like Pac-Man and this request, posted just inside the door, next to the hanging clipboard we were instructed to sign in at.



This photo watched over us as we ate:



I'm hoping someone can help me identify this man and tell me why, what appears to be a newspaper clipping of his arm-less bust--a la Venus de Milo--is floating on top of a carton of eggs. If you have any information, please send it my way: i.stole.the.tv.blog@gmail.com . kthxbye.

note to self:

Guess who wrote this note?

My Dads like to leave notes (passive-aggressive and otherwise) all over the house. They leave them for themselves, for each other and for me. Recently, we had a plumbing issue in the house. The pipes were backing up, so a plumber was called.

Today, I received the following email from my Dad:

My darling daughter's,
Today I rushed home to meet with the plumber so he could snake out the drain (thankfully that I have a job that I can do this). I have had to do this every couple of years due to the big maple tree roots that have somehow got into the main drain in the back yard. Mind you at a cost of $129 (thank god for yellow pages coupons or it would have been $151!). I had a lively conversation with both of them as they did their disgusting job but which is most appreciated by the general public. When I was expecting a bucket of roots to come out when they retrieved the snake from under the back yard. It ended up being a few of the affor mentioned "MUFFIN PLUGS". I have no idea how long they had been there or who did it, weather it was Elida or her friends, [redacted] or for that matter [redacted] when she was here for a day. For my sanity and the protection of your wallet ( I am actually only talking to you Elida other wise I would day purse).....NO MORE FLUSHING YOUR MUFFIN PLUGS!

Love
DAD

P.S.
This better not show up on passive aggressive notes.com

He never said anything about posting it on my blog. He sure paints a lovely picture, doesn't he? Turns out, Paul wanted to leave a sticky note in the bathroom that read:

NO MORE FLUSHING MUFFIN PLUGS!!! Love, Paul. :)

I really wish he would've done the latter.

Also, I have no idea what he meant by "day purse" and/or how that's a verb.

Happy friday, bitches!!

fountain etiquette

How about sanitary napkins?

meow.

Sexy cat costumes, anyone? They're on sale...

wow. just... wow.

Found this at a gas station in Trenton, MI.

also...

The video editing is coming along, slowly but surely. I'd like to have it wrapped up and ready to go for next week. I'm feeling especially short on words today. Shocker! Anyway... Here are some videos:

(ps: i love Ugly Betty)

rinse and repeat.

Found this last night in the Traffic Jam bathroom. This hand dryer comes with very specific instructions. They read as follows:


1. SHAKE EXCESS WATER FROM HANDS
2. PUSH KNOB - STOPS AUTOMATICALLY
3. RUB HANDS LIGHTLY AND RAPIDLY
4. TURN LOUVER UPWARD TO DRY FACE


Got it? Good.


Also...

If you haven't done so yet, check out The Laramie Project. Rent it, stream it, hit up youtube, whatevs. You need to see it. Last night I went to the Hilberry to check out The Laramie Project : Ten Years Later (An Epilogue). I've been sticking to the ridiculous lately, so I don't wanna suck all the fun out of, what I can only assume, has been an extraordinary tuesday for you. But it IS important, so read about it here.


Lastly...

I've watched this video maybe 28 times and it still moves me. Who's excited for fourth row KC on the 25th? (!!!) Life is good.

the final countdown.

Another cube rat white board. Please note the other countdown to a wedding. The bubbly hearts suggest that it will be their wedding. But they also used the same hearts to DOT THEIR I's for Taylor's name. Who does that past the age of nine?

Oy vey.

Age of employee: 37
Photographic evidence of a child they might be taking to the upcoming concert: none.
Creeper scale (1-10): 9.5

and God spake unto Moses...

Here's a little backstory:

I spent a few months working at Domino Farms on a project for U of M. The office complex is ginormous. Seriously. It's nearly a mile long and I walked that mother effer every single day. Inside the massive structure, you will find a post office, radio station, convenience store, cafeteria, church, several clinics, offices, top secret labs and a Domino's Pizza store.

There are also plenty of bathrooms. Praise Jesus.

In one such bathroom, the women who worked at the Catholic radio station purchased what I'm guessing was "fancy" hand soap. At some point, the soap started disappearing, so the cute old ladies began striking the fear of God into the would-be thieves.

happy bunnies

I was under the impression that the whole "happy bunny" craze was over. I was very, very wrong.

Please observe the keyboard of one of my co-workers:



Guide to being awesome at life:

1. buy happy bunny stickers (keyboard, standard edition)
2. await their arrival anxiously
3. they arrive, tear open package feverishly
4. take to work in super cool happy bunny tote
5. get to work, update facebook status ("at work. ugh! lol")
6. spend one hour placing each individual sticker on every. single. key.
7. collect paycheck
8. smile

yak.

This is Phoebe:



She spends roughly three hours staring at her water bowl every day. Cats are smart like that.

Her other favorite thing to do is puke on porous surfaces regularly. She favors blankets, rugs, mats and pillows. Again, she is very smart. Either that or she harbors a lingering resentment for the people who feed her, give her treats and pet her. She leads a rough life.

So, one night she pukes (aka "yak"s) on the kitchen floor. Rather than clean up the cat yak, a paper towel was put in place to cover it up and then a note was attached.



Problem solved.