It is amazing how much you don’t feel like writing (or…well, doing anything) when you’re sleep deprived. And I’m seriously fucking tired right now, so no comments on how it’s taken me so long to throw up a post this week – I don’t fucking care. (Note: As my regular readers know, my REM cycle is VERY important to me.)
So why am I so tired, you ask? Well, I’ve been babysitting. Yes, babysitting – stop laughing. What? You don’t think I would be a good babysitter? You think the whole bitch thing would get in the way? Well, if you do think that you’d be wrong (suckers). I am a fucking awesome babysitter – just ask my brother and his wife.
Long story short, Brother and Sister-in-law’s (SIL for short) nanny has the week off. Both Brother and SIL work, so they needed someone to watch their kids. Knowing that both sets of grandparents would be willing to help out – but realizing that giving both their sons to ANYONE would be asking a bit much (seriously, two boys under the age of two – good luck) – they split them up. My parents got the 5-month-old. Case closed, right? This shouldn’t affect me, right? Wrong.
You see, my parents have been on vacation the last two weeks. And they weren’t getting back until Sunday (right when Brother and SIL were planning on dropping off my little nephew). Timing wise, it was going to be tight. Plus, they were flying back from Monte Carlo, so there was a good chance that jet-lag might be a factor. However, my mom was not passing up the opportunity to spend the week with one of her grandsons, so I stepped in and volunteered to drag my ass into NJ to help out for the first couple of days. I’m an angel, I know.
Anyway a quick overview, I’ve been a) getting up in the middle of the night for feedings (the only human beings in the world that I will wake up for at 2am and not utter a single complaint are my nephews – they’re too damn cute to hold it against), b) commuting into NY every day for work (fucking Penn Station), c) spending more money than is advisable on clothes and toys for my little man (I got him the cutest onesie with a baseball stitched on the butt), and d) dealing with the fact that the muscles in my arms and back are KILLING me thanks to carrying around a child who will one day (without a doubt I’ve decided) be a linebacker.
Still, it’s all worth it. I fucking love those kids, and holding my nephew makes me all warm and fuzzy inside (shut up).
So, some other shit that’s been going on:
- I kind of lost it on my Starbucks guy this morning. You see, the Starbucks near my office is a place I got to EVERY DAY. I’m there at basically the same time every morning, everyone who works there knows me and knows what I order, and we often chitchat if I’m up for it (some mornings I’m too fucking tired). Anyway, in the past week they’ve screwed up and forgotten to actually, you know, GET ME my coffee three times. They take my order and my money, they just don’t give me my fucking drink. I think this is because the tourist numbers go way up in the summertime, and the place has been a madhouse lately. Anyway, with the amount of sleep I’ve been getting, my temper is a little short nowadays. So when this shit happened again this morning, I went up to the manager (a guy I know very well and someone I am invariably VERY nice to), and we had this little exchange:
Redhead: Is there any chance I’ll be getting my coffee at some point in the near future.
Starbucks guy: Oh, uh…
Redhead: I mean it’s only an iced coffee, and I’m pretty sure it doesn’t take 10 minutes to make.
Starbucks guy: I’m sorry, someone else must have taken it.
Redhead: No, I’ve been standing here the whole time while watching crowds of people come and go with their drinks – I’m pretty sure I would have noticed if a large iced coffee had been set out. I’ve kind of been looking for it, you know?
Starbucks guy: Oh, well sure. I’ll get it for you right now.
Redhead: That would be nice.
Starbucks guy: (Handing me my drink) Sorry about that.
Redhead: Don’t apologize, just give me my drink – all I want is to get the hell out of here and get to my office. It may surprise you to hear this, but I don’t enjoy spending the better part of my morning standing here waiting for a cup of coffee.
(And…scene.)
I could not have been any ruder. I mean, HUGE BITCH. I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking, but I was legitimately pissed off. He fucking saw me there waiting! I’m there every fucking day. He knows I don’t drink anything that takes 10 fucking minutes to make. I shouldn’t have had to say anything. And this is the third fucking time they’ve pulled this shit in the past week! Anyway, I’m going to have to apologize tomorrow. Dammit.
- Speaking of tourists, they’ve fucking EVERYWHERE. It’s times like this that I hate working in Soho – second only to Times Square for tourists. I mean, I’m just trying to run out and get lunch people! Stop being so clueless and get out of the way. And why do they all stop at inconvenient places like street corners and block shit? Can’t they pull off to the side and discuss what they want to do next there? I have shit to do people!
- I found myself on the elevator yesterday with a guy who looked exactly like Jeffrey Dahmer. It was…weird. Kind of funny, but weird.
- I saw A-Rod’s wife on the street a day or two ago. She was…eh. You know what my main thought was when I saw her? The fact that I even recognize who she is means I read too much Page Six.
- This is a call to arms: OK, it’s throwdown time. (And before you even try to say anything, yes, I’m evil. This is exactly why I wanted to fuck with someone else’s destiny in my last post.) So here’s the deal, Christine was wandering around match.com yesterday and came across a profile that she immediately forwarded to me.
There I was at my desk (probably working) when my email dinged. Seeing it was from Christine, I immediately clicked on it and found myself staring at…not much actually. The subject line had not been filled in and nothing was written – there was just a link to follow. So I clicked on it. And there it was: Guy #3 and #4’s smug little face smiling out at me from a match.com profile page. Quickly reading through what he’d written (dickhead – he filled in that he only wanted a woman with a bachelor’s degree; no advanced degrees for him, oh no), I shook my head and sent Christine a quick reply – “Oh it is on. It is on like donky kong.”
You see, I was never able to fuck with that little dickhead after he dumped Christine (epically). And since I’d been the one to set them up, I have wanted this opportunity for a long time. But I need your help – so my dear readers, does anyone out there have any ideas? How can I fuck with him using Match? I want mass humiliation. I want him to feel like the little, little man he is – and I want everyone to know it. I want to teach him a lesson (the lesson being that he’s a loser, or course). And I want it all to be anonymously done. So bring it on my friends. Let your devious little minds free and get back to me. I’m going to nail this little fucker’s ass to the wall. It’s time.
- Oh, and Gary Sheffield is a jackass.
Happy Wednesday everybody.
Update: Quick thought on Michael Vick - and yes, for once I'm being serious (something I try to avoid around here) - so bear with me. I truly, and with a completely clear conscience, hope Vick and his cohorts fucking rot in hell. I think what they're being accused* of is cruel on a level that defies comprehension. And I think that however they may potentially be punished, it will never be enough. I feel sick over this story, and I find that for once my sense of humor is incapable of kicking in. So for that reason I'm not going to be visiting most of the blogs I generally do today (most of them being sports blogs), because I guess I just don't see the joke; and the satirical tone that most of those sites take - and have taken today (something I normally enjoy but which this morning struck me as cold) - seems horribly out of place while covering this subject.
OK, I'm off my soapbox now. Sorry about that, but we seem to have stumbled across a topic I feel quite strongly about.
*Innocent until proven guilty, blah, blah, blah.
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18 comments:
Obviously you make a fake profile saying you are just looking for 'fun' and then email the dude. He'll be interested. Then ask a friend if you can borrow their apartment for a weekend, and invite him over.
When he gets there immediately blindfold him, tie him up and throw him in a closet. For the first day open the closet door once every two hours and throw white rice at him (not brown). That night pull him out of the closet and have him lay on the living room floor on his stomach. Eventually he will fall asleep. When this happens (and this takes some planning) have a tattoo artist come in and tattoo 'dickwad' right above his shoulder blades.
Its the Yankees, come on now, having watched them beat my Jays because of a fucking balk last night I'm inclined to agree with Sheffield. I mean the only team with near as many unlikable players as the Yankees is the Sox. A-Rod,Cairo, Clemens, Posada, Bowa, Giambi, etc. I mean can we even think of anyone on the Jays not to like, let alone a racist coach like Torre. Have a nice day, just a bit of fun. Oh yeah if this is uncomprehendable its because my REM cycle might just be as fucked as yours.
jack: OK, maybe I should have also stated that it can't be anything we could GET ARRESTED for. Plus, he lives in California now, so we won't actually be seeing him - think more along the lines of fucking with him in a long distance way.
brandon: Torre is NOT racist - I don't believe that. I actually just think he didn't like Shef (can't say I blame him), and that's why he treated him badly. And did you actually throw Cairo and Posada in the unlikable players list? Wrong, wrong, wrong.
it sure has taken you a while to throw up a post this week.
Ok, long distance, that makes it tougher. As does the 'non-arresting' part. Back to the drawing board.
By the way, nice blog.
lozo: Smartass.
jack: Ooh, I love compliments - thank you. Now keep thinking up ideas.
Ok, a two pronged attack. I'm not sure if either is possible.
First, you have to find out his password on match. This shouldn't be too hard since people rarely use different passwords and your friend dated him. You can go on there and continually clear all of his 'times viewed' 'emails' 'winks' etc. He'll think no one likes him. The key, obviously, is to get the password. That would hurt him in a private way.
In a public way....You can take his profile off of match and put it on a billboard near where he works, possibly in the 'alternative lifestyle' part of town, and/or near somewhere he frequents (possibly his gym). You can rent billboards relatively cheap for a day or two, so it wouldn't be that expensive. I'd also be willing to bet that people on this site would be willing to donate to this cause.
This will also allow you to edit parts of the profile you'd like to change, such as sexual preference, income, etc. You can also pay for this with very little 'paper trail' if done correctly.
That's all I have for now. Do with it what you will. Slow work day.
Nice. I like where your head's at - I've emailed Christine to see if she might know the password.
Step (1) Make up a profile. Base it completely on his "what I'm looking for." But make it a person living in whatever beach town Christine and Guy #3/4 went to on their shitty trip. And make the picture be a very hot but not famous person. And not slutty looking.
Step (2) Start exchanging witty banter with him via email.
Step (3) Tell him you'll be in New York (or wherever he lives) for a week on business and that you want to meet up. Build suspense. But eventually tell him the fake business trip was canceled.
Step (4) Suggest that he come visit you in beach resort town instead.
Step (5) Let the cat out of the bag: i.e. "I had to blow money on a trip to X, now you did too. Sucker"
That's all I got.
jumpshootingfool: He lives in Callifornia - Christine and I are here in NY. No plan can involve meeting/taking pictures of him. This all has to be done over the Internet. So keep thinking of ideas.
danny: That "beach resort town" where they vacationed was Fiji. I just don't think I could talk him into ponying up for that over just some computer correspondence (I'm charming as hell, but I'm not that charming).
Come on guys! It can't be that hard to humiliate/destroy someone over the Internet, right?
No humiliation ideas from me. I'd spend the time and energy on something more fruitful than vengeance.
I am sickened by the Vick information, though. TBL hacked me off when they referred to themselves as "Vick guys". Guess I should give them props for "standing by their man".
I'm with you on that one, but at least TBL (I finally went there today after I'd had some time to cool down) didn't make a joke of the whole thing like most other sites.
I say call me a whiny girl with no sense of humor - I don't care - but how are these sites finding humor in this story? I don't think it's funny in any way, and I don't think there is any useful message (or anything entertaining/amusing) to be found in joking about it. I mean, I'm all for lightening up a bad situation with humor, but acknowledge the seriousness and horror of this SOMEWHERE in your commentary. Jesus.
OK, again I'm off my soapbox - I swear I'm not trying to bring everyone down.
You're OK to be pissed. I've skipped most of the humor posts as I don't find them amusing either. I also think the idiots trying to start controversy with moronic posts about race, rape stands, etc., would do well to stop posting (or have their posts deleted, which is probably a bit too much censorship).
Anyway, the Falcons need to grow a pair and suspend Vick until this is all resolved.
OK here's my first suggestion. You set up a profile w/ random hot chick pictures, again putting up what he's looking for. Contact him, begin IM/email/Match (new, anonymous ones obviously) correspondence. Now, this part is going to take some commitment on your end. You'll have to get into some sex IM/emails where you get him to take compromising/damaging pictures of himself cause they "turn you on and make you hot." Post pics on "Guy#3isadouchebag.com", myspace or something similar.
And if Vick had anything to do with it, he is going to hell and I hope he gets prison raped. There's no excuse or reason to do that to animals.
glassyarddog: You're slowly becoming one of my favorite commenters. I agree with everything you just said.
onthevirg: Christine would have to handle that plan - wow, I just NEVER want to see any compromising pictures of him, for any reason. Hey, how hard is it to set up a site called Guy#3isadouchebag.com?
And thanks for your Vick comments - I'm liking my readers more and more these days.
brandon: Did you really just use the c-word on a site run by a woman? Have you learned nothing in all your years of being a man? We HATE that word. Oh, and the game is this afternoon, not tonight - hopefully that means you'll be watching your boys lose sooner rather than later (although I'm terrified I just jinxed my team by saying that).
Well the problem is the distance issue w/ trying to run something on Guy#3. Limits your options considerably. Setting up a website is not hard at all and you can register it so that the site owner is anonymous.
You're welcome. Anybody that would basically torture an animal for amusement/entertainment is a shitheel. I can't think of something appropriately vile for a description right now.
So, um, how do you set up a site while keeping the owner anonymous?
When you go to one of the domain registration sites (ie: godaddy) check to see if they have private or anonymous registration options. That way the contact info is for the actual registration company. If they don't mention it anywhere just ask them if they offer that option.
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