Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Online dating. A tribute.

So about a year ago good very pushy friend of mine suggested that I try on line dating. She met her husband that way, and she was sick of me trying to cuddle with them at night.
So to appease her, me and my other friend made profiles...basically just to shut her up. ....actually just to shut her up.

My first picture was normal...me smiling. blah blah...
but because I didn't want those internet freaks to contact me I had the following gallery after the main picture.

I tagged it ass such:
"Do you like my shoes? I got them at payless for 300$!!"

"whoops, how did that get on there...Oh well can't remove it because my fingers are too fat to reach the delete button."

"This is me! (taking the picture!!)"

Needless to say I won that round. Internet dating Take that!

Sunday, November 21, 2010

 just realized that Nobody...Unless you are me...or my friend would even find the last post remotely funny.
Unless you know the shit out of me

but then again...I really don't write this for anyone else...I mostly keep it as a reminder that I need to get into rehab ....


my life in pros

So A good friend of mine wrote a little comic about my life, I really need to share.
1. Moving into a new place: choices are a house of angry gays, or a guy deemed as rapey doug.

2. Dating a doctor who's way of judging our relationship status is by his cholesterol level.

Tonight’s episode: Cupid’s Lipid

“My cholesterol has gone down 3 points, it’s because of you” – That’s what it read on her phone and that was his evil attempt to woo the beleaguered young heroine through textual, health-related bragging. Dr. Lipitor thought he had it going on. Five dates, and in his mind, halfway to engagement, all it would take now is a nice dinner and lower cholesterol to seal the deal.

But that’s where he was wrong.

Meanwhile… in the highly organized and tidy lair of the Angry Gays, Chaz and Todd were hatching a plan.
“I really don’t want another roommate, Chaz,” lisped Todd.
“I realize this but as you know if we can’t secure that young, sloppy lady, we’ll lose the balance to Rapey Doug and his sinister little bitch, Buddha,” sputtered Chaz.
“I suppose you are right, the fight between Midtown and Montrose will be won or lost based on the power of Buddha and that bastard Doug who dares to keep the kids off the drugs.”
“Is that cashmere?” jostled Chaz gently kneading the fabric of Todd’s new thong.

Back in Dr. Lipitor’s waiting room…

“Dammit, my lipids are weak – I must find more People and US magazines if I ever hope to have the energy to snatch muh’lady from the grasp of the gays and that rapey wretch…”
Dr. Lipitor shuffles through piles upon piles of Highlights, US World Report and Time in a failed effort to gain the only year-old magazines that can power his lust and strengthen his lipids.
“Curses, some damn grannies must have snagged ‘em – gotta get Esther’s attention and prevent her from mistakenly wondering into the rapey lair of Doug. Maybe a nice dinner will do the trick – to the Text-Culum!”
Dr. Lipitor muddles through the elaborate keyboard of the Text-Culum to mindfully issue a message that he has news of note…

Dearest sweetpants – you can’t say cholesterol without Esther, my lipids are livid, let’s hit the Luby’s.

Ding! That was the sound shooting out of her massive purse. While she was still technically homeless, she found refuge in her parent’s home. She jokingly referred to it as a shop because the Angry Gays and Rapey Doug wouldn’t think to track her down in a public setting.
The purse weighed perhaps 30 lbs and had a labyrinthine system of passages and hidden compartments that would put just about any Viet Cong to shame.
“Shit! Dr. Lipitor is going to drive me to the brink! Why is he convinced I like Luby’s so damn much? Admittedly there was that time with the lime Jell-O but damn dude, I don’t like what your kitchen is serving!”
She hurriedly replied tapping a resilient message quashing any hope Dr. Lipitor might have…
Can’t make dinner tonight – need to find place to live and eat Taco Cabana…

Aaoooogah! He knew he had perhaps the worst ringtone ever installed on his 1998 mobile phone, but Dr. Lipitor fashioned himself a jokester – how better to entertain the aging sabre-tooth ladies sprawled across his waiting room.
“Heh, heh – old timey car horn means my baby wants to get jiggy!”
He slowly read the dismissive message and vowed to destroy that damn Cabana once and for all – all he needed were stronger lipids and maybe some C4.

Arf! Ruff! Ruff!
“I know, I know, Buddha – you need some lady essence and I will find it. I just need to find a non-Nigerian who can be chill.”
Rapey Doug escalated up to his man-cave to grab his phone.
“The secret, my dear doggie, is to affirm over and over that there are no worries. No Worries!” chilled the Christ-loving motivational speaker with a perchance for getting rapey.
If we can get just one more lady in here, we’ll be able to get rid of more of Montrose – maybe that Chances gay club or something…
“Arf!” bitched the dog.

Stay tuned for the next episode of Esther’s Jesters and find out the surprising answers to the following questions…

Will the Angry Gays be able to find the right shade of Indian corn for their pet Schnoodle’s birthday party?

Will Rapey Doug be able to lure and steal the precious flower of another woman, fueling Buddha and thereby gaining control of just a little more of Montrose for the evil Midtown Empire?

Will Dr. Lipitor finally find some measure of contentment unrelated to his damn fat cells?

And because most of you are under the age of 7/ or are two stoned to read, Here is a picture of a man who's life and the lives of anyone he has ever loved are depending on the outcome of a game of beer pong.

mong...man pong hehe

Saturday, November 20, 2010

Hunt for lovemyself nest

so, I am looking for a new place.

And because I am batshit crazy, of course it is not a normal process...

I have narrowed it down to two options.

1. The angry gays.

- A floral pastel dream scape with many bronzed man sculptures.

No door,
Bead Curtain
The occupants of the house are Angry....Angry gays. They really don't want me to use the kitchen...I am pretty sure they could see the look in my eye...the "i get really drunk and attempt to make spaghetti, then roll around in it like the spaghetti cat merow."

 So...This is me....Pink one or passed out one...both applicable

 Living here....

Moving on.

Rapey Doug.

I walk into his townhouse only to see this on the floor

"What the fuck is this"?(as I give it a little kick)

Rapey Doug

"oh thats my dog barticus" ( or some shit like that)

My best description of  barnicle ( or whatever) is this....but picture it without the head or extremities.

The End 


Wednesday, November 17, 2010

So I seem to be talking a lot about my "loveish" life

So last night...Text messages ensue as such.

Man  " so, what time do you want me to pick you up? Miss you!"

Me.  "..."

Man. " Remember? you said you would be home on Tuesday!" I made reservations!"

Me . " as;ldifajworasdf"

Man. " I am leaving my house! see you in 30!"

me " whatevs"

He shows up with flowers, opens the door.

Me " Didn't feel like changing."  * picks nose*   " Been wearing these sweat pants for two days now, why stop the trend? " *  laugh *  *Hick up*  * snort *

We have a pretty good time...I don't know..meh...

So end of the date...drops me off...and asks me if he can come up ...

I reply ... "SURE!"  

 " I need help with my laundry"

I actually have him help me with my laundry...and he leaves.

Now mind you....this guy isn't a tool bag shit show...He is a pretty good looking guy. He is a teacher..not because he needs the money ( good investments or something earlier in life) , has a masters in something...Speaks three languages, wants to take me traveling all over the world.....

NO i say...NO just wash my dam socks.

Sunday, November 14, 2010

A few more things...

Sometimes I get pissed off at the world because I will never be able to do things....such as...
1. I will never be able to see myself in person ...like sitting across from my self.....o...thats what you look like with your finger shoved up your nose all the time.

2. blowjob. Never will I know what it feels like.

Double Rainbow?

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

more of my life you don't care about

Dating a doctor.

Starts out fun enough...especially when I get to run into ex boyfriends and I get to say...this is DOCTOR waffles or what not.

...but after a few weeks I get around to actually LISTENING to him and it turns out he is a .......
Program Project Manager
Bioengineering and Bioinformatics Program princesspoppycockflufferinsertverylargewordhere.

Ever....seen a dead body?

 whatever.....im hungover

Thursday, November 4, 2010


So being the single otter that I am, and after the string of unsuccessful "smarties" that I have dated in the past..I have broken down to date the "hotties"

This is the thing though...it is as if the hotter they get the more retarded they are...

gross...just spilled tuna on my key board.

...even grosser...Ill most likely eat it later. ...who the fuck puts swiss cheese on tuna?

.....I digress.

Not only are these men a ear rape to listen to, I III have to change the manner of which I speak.

For example...if I make a statement, (this actually happened) "Have you seen the new Hubble IMAX? "

Then the guy gets that derp look on his face...Which prompts me to ask, "Do you know what the Hubble is?"

Then, the guy responds "which one?"
Then I respond "which one what?"
Then he says, "The Nevada Hubble?"
I want to respond with a retort to guess what he could be talking about....but I Can't even remotely fathom what in the fucking hell of christ what that would be.


shit....I would sit through a Two hour IMAX about a Corgie that looks like a seal.