I went to my first bachelorette party this weekend replete with booze, sexytime gifts, penis paraphernalia (because duh, penises are funny), and a hot cop stripper.
[N: Why are they always cops? They need to have more options.]
Now, I think strippers are awesome and sexy in theory, but greasy in practice.
So. So. Sweaty.
Before dinner I said that I revel in every opportunity to objectify men [yeah! women’s lib!], but I don’t feel the need to do so with every man that walks by - even if I pay for him to throw open the door and perform a sexy arrest monologue.
What is it about the sexes that make us react so differently to a gyrating stranger? Half the women at L’s apartment cowered in the kitchen, while the other half was reminiscent of Professor Crump’s Property class - if you don’t look him in the eye or in the bulge, he won’t single you out.
I, of course, was paralyzed by my inability to stop cackling at his man-ties.
I feel about male strippers the same way I feel about jeggings - it’s totally cool if you like ‘em, I just don’t get it.
So let’s face it ladies, we’re patently differently from men. We’re not terribly excited by junk pulsating at our face. Most of us don’t need pee pees flying all over the place for a good send-off to married life.
I’m thinking of starting a business. Instead of hiring some dude to dance on us for an hour, how about a flirty bartender with a talent for creating inventive cocktails? Or how about skipping the sexy man altogether for a service that provides cute pottytrained puppies for partygoers to play with for an hour? Or hell! How about 100 pairs of Louboutins scattered in the living room for everyone to try on/press their faces against for an hour?
So I scan the inspirational quotes and the html embedded pictures of white sand beaches in case she ever asks me about them (Oh yes mom, they’re gorgeous) but I don’t know what to do about the links.
Phishers are tricky bitches, you know. Even if they don’t hack into emails causing my friends to belittle my penis size - Size matters! Make her screaming your name! Enlarge bigger your member! - they create email accounts that I know aren’t real, but make me do a double take anyway.
I have a real life acquaintance K Proctor. Last week, a K Procter sent me an email. K Procter said she was vacationing with her family in London when she was attacked by some hooligans and lost all of her money and could not get home. I ignored the email as I’m 99% sure K Proctor is safe in the States. But if she isn’t and is still stuck in London, let that be a lesson to her to learn to spell her name correctly! And also to not ask a barely-an-acquaintance for money.
With spammy emails, you can always spot a phishing scam by the spelling/grammar of the subject line. Like, if someone sends me the subject: “Super FunnIE! Check DiS Out!**” I immediately know a) it’s spam or b) the sender is an idiot who shouldn’t have email privileges. Either way, it’s immediately deleted.
It’s tricky, though. For instance, a LOT of legitimate emails only have “hey” as the subject line. When I open the email, I’m told
Good picture if clicking here link.
For the most part, it’s spam. Unfortunately, these gatekeepers aren’t effective on my mother. Despite speaking English for 27 years, my mom is basically a human LOLcat and her emails and texts reflect the same.
Actual text message from my mother: Today I has a day off.
Her last suspicious email to me had no subject and read only of “Could you guess what ad is??? HAHA” followed by the link.
It is entirely possible this was from my mom. But I had reservations because the url began with www.noob.us. Was it a humor site? Or just a really obvious scam? Is my mother more l33t than I give her credit for? The world may never know.
Both my mother and J have been independently pressuring me to acquire health insurance. I sought to do so immediately, because if one more person tells me how important it is, it must surely be a bad omen.
So today I weighed dance lessons, good food, and health insurance, because after loan payments from my paycheck, I can realistically enjoy only two of the three.
It is almost unreal that I feel impoverished as a working adult holding two degrees.
Except, it is clearly very real. And unbearably sad.
Did you know A Nightmare on Elm Street has 5 sequels, 1 crossover adventure with Jason, a re-imagining of Freddy Krueger, and 1 remake? That makes 9 movies in all.
I guess this doesn’t compare to the Friday the 13th series, but that’s a whole ‘nother circus. How many times can you inexplicably resurrect a mass murderer anyway? The answer is at least 6, if you’re wondering.
So after the 3rd Freddy movie, shouldn’t we all really be like, Ok Freddy, that’s enough now. Let the people of Elm Street get some damn sleep. They’ve had enough of you. Learn to let go. Take some yoga or something.
But no, he keeps COMING. BACK.
Even after he’s taken revenge [but to be real, he was the one who killed, like, 20 kids first] he’s just not satisfied. 2 teens aren’t enough. 5 teens aren’t enough. 20 teens! not enough!
If you’ve been following my debt diaries, you may have noticed slow, but steady, pieces of my soul payments going out to pay off student loans. Wretched, yes, but I’m getting it done. But wha? What is that #4 doing up there? How’d that sucker sneak in? I got a delightful call from USC’s financial office letting me know I owed money. How can that be? I graduated 4 years ago! Clearly a mistake. No, they told me, it was just dormant in deferment, but it’s ready for collection now.
Oh, and you’re two months late.
And we reported it on your credit.
Just when I start to think my life is financially under control, I get Freddy Kruegered.
I was on Craigslist the other day looking for cat furniture, which turned into looking on ebay for cat furniture, which turned into looking on ebay for estate jewelry and before I knew it I was bidding on god knows what.
Now, when I say “bid” I mean like $15 for a brand new pair of Louboutins, or $8 for a 20 carat ring. Never serious money, so I never expect to win.
I put $18 on a vintage (and unfortunately torn) mink wrap.
AND THEN I WON.
What am I going to do with a piece of fur? I don’t know.
I am fairly certain that I’ll look less like this
and more like this
I am going to get it cleaned and repaired, so if anyone wants to borrow it for a ballroom soiree, or for working the corner, or I dunno, just wants to sit around in half a bear costume, lemme know.
I have just discovered thee cushiest fancy pants high paying job! No, I’m not talking about turning tricks, don’t be ridiculous.
Gwyneth Paltrow & Chris Martin are hiring a tutor for their children Apple & Moses! Said tutor will be salaried at $98,00 for about 3 hours of work a day. They will be provided with living quarters AND they will travel with the Paltrow/Martin clan when the family goes on movie premiers! and music tours!
Specifically, they’re looking for someone who fluently speaks Greek, Latin, French, and Spanish, plays at least 2 instruments, and is “sporty.” Damn, I’m 3 languages (and 1 fluency) short. I KNEW I should have picked up learning a dead language as a hobby.
Hm… now where is my downloaded copy of Rosetta Stone?