a minute to talk about boys...

on friday i was told that saying a guy is "cute" based solely on personality is the "worst thing you can say about a guy". of course, i thought the worst thing you could say was "don't get me wrong, he's a really nice guy, but..." i think the person that told me this feels this way because he's used to girls saying he's hot. maybe. i don't know. but i referred to him as cute having only ever spoken to him over the phone (p.s. no he's not a phone sex operator), not knowing that i'd end up enjoying the face as much as i did the banter. now that i know he's hot, would i still describe him as cute? maybe not. but that's also because i have since gotten to know him better as a person and it turns out he's more of an asshole than previously thought. but maybe he's right. it all depends on your definition of cute. i meant it as "nice", maybe he took it as "asexually adorable, like a baby". but the truth is, i am sexually attracted to babies, so i meant it like "i would totally bone you."

amen sister

bitter betties

[while watching female coworker sign for a flower delivery]

carly: that woman gets flowers almost every week!

me: i know...

carly: she must have a very nice boyfriend.

me: yeah, or he's desperate and totally realizes she's way out of his league and so he spoils her to keep her.

carly: yeah. or maybe he's a jackass and fucks up all the time. so flowers are his way of apologizing.

[woman opens card that came with the flowers]

me: you're right. we don't know that doesn't say "sorry i boned your sister".

check the bling

this is my new hero.


her name is zelda. she is 91 years old and has more cool in her body then i do in one bone of mine. she began traveling at age 50 and along the way, cultivated a unique look that showed her worldy spirit. she is an award-winning activist, having led campaigns against marital violence in Africa, and designs her own outfits from native fabrics loomed and tailored in Africa, India and China. she has over 75 unique ensembles.

"I feel so privileged," she says. "i'm wearing works of art instead of hanging them on the wall."

bachlorettes, irish pubs, and strange men's underpants

so two years ago, my cousin, nora, had her bachelorette party in northbeach. she had a list of things, given to her by her bridesmaids, that she had to do while we were out that night. they included such things as "get a condom off a stranger" or "have someone do a body shot off you". by the end of the night, we were supposed to have achieved all of the things on the list and i was incredibly threatened by how difficult some of these things would be to achieve. for some reason, it was decided that each lady present should do at least one thing on the list. i didn't want to - I have a hard enough time talking to strangers in general, let alone asking them to do something or give me something; so i avoided the list as much as i could as the evening unfolded.

cut to a few hours later. we're all packed into o'reilley's and we've already been serenaded by a band of drunken irishmen (one of whom stripped down to his skivvies) singing "you've lost that lovin' feeling" (check that one off the list) and i've set my eyes on a cute, fair-headed english boy, David, who makes me laugh. like, really laugh. David and I spend most of the evening talking - about england, about his visit to the states, about what he loves about san francisco - when a girl in my party comes up and hands me the list saying it's my turn. DAMN IT! I was distracted for two seconds - by a boy!!! - and the list finally catches up to me.

"what's that?" david asks, looking over my shoulder.

"it's this silly thing," i tell him, "where i have to ask a complete stranger to do something ridiculous. and i'm way too embarrassed to ask for any of these things."

he takes the list from me and looks it over, grinning and shaking his head. he can't believe some of the things we've already done, even as i recount the stories of each one - including the photograph we managed to capture of the one long haired guy mooning Nora in the street, his balls hanging out for all to see.

David is intrigued by the list to say the least. "you don't want to have anything to do with this, do you?" he asks, laughing. i shake my head and blush. "luckily for you," he says, "i am a very generous person." and with that, he hands me his beer and disappears into the bathroom.

i'm confused but too tipsy to worry about it. i read over the list to see what options are left and begin getting worried that they are the more challenging of the lot. how the hell am i going to pull this off??

and just then, as if on cue, my little savior that is David comes traipsing out of the bathroom waving his underwear like a flag.

"one pair of gentlemen's knickers" he announces, loud enough so my group can hear. he then takes the list from my hand and ceremoniously checks off "have a stranger give you his underwear" - undeniably the most challenging of all the things listed.

"don't worry love," he whispers to me, "put them on clean at half three this afternoon, so they're practically brand new" (it's nearing 1 a.m. at this point). perhaps it was how cute he looked telling everyone he was boasting an "unfurbished basement" that prevented me from ever truly realizing that I carried around a strange man's underpants all night that night.

i'm not sure why i'd forgotten this tale, but something about today reminded me of this fond, fond memory. i would never talk to david again - which only reaffirmed my decision that night to not go back to his hostel with him as being the right decision - but that story is one of the best i have to tell. and trying desperately to remember his face, i peeked onto MySpace to see if I might have any luck. and sho 'nuff, there he is.

i've got to admit, i'm glad he's as cute as I remember him being.

whilst bringing drinks from the bar back to his table...

drunk guy: whoa dude, are you going to drink all those car bombs and beers?!?

bryan: no man, that's crazy! some are for your girlfriend.

drunk guy: ...what?

the donald says: your fired

in Bangkok, two stray dogs that were trained to be "sniffer" dogs at a Thai airport (near the opium sex den that is the Golden Triangle) were "fired" (true story) for public urination and sexual harassment. apparently, whilst sniffing for drugs in the luggage, these randy canines would pee on the unsuspecting cases. they also had a tendency to "hold on to" women's legs. (note to all you men traveling through Thailand: now's not the time to dress in drag).

back in 2003, thai police, in reaction to the increase in stray dogs in thailand, began training strays to do such things as protect wildlife and national parks, as well as sniff out drugs at all the airports. now, after this incident, Police Lieutenant Colonel Jakapop Kamhon is claiming that stray dogs don't have the "manners" (his words) of foreign breeds. um...racist much?


is your dog a sex offender like this pervert?!?

two dogs were FIRED for SEXUAL HARASSMENT! what exactly is the HR process involved with that termination? do the dogs get severance? how will they pay for child support? their mortgage? dog houses don't pay for themselves, you know...

a week in review

carly: courtney, i think i smoked crack in my sleep last night. i can't figure out why i did something i did on the books last month. crack is the only explanation.

+++

bryan: i want to be one of his illegitimate children. i just want to be involved somehow.

+++

bryan: the XYY Zipper company is a monopoly. they need to be broken up. like AT&T.

+++

russ: i don't have time to make your brain better!

+++

bryan: [via text message] we're in BFE right now. gonna stop at a trucker rest stop and *hopefully* get anally raped. fingers crossed!

+++

father: i trust you will bring humor to the ceremony.
me: depends on what she wants. but she did say i could have a stripper / cage dancer. so that works out well for everyone.
father: YOUR MOTHER IS OFF LIMITS

+++

co-worker: we should upgrade to the new Pearl Blackberry
IT: why?
co-worker: because everyone loves them
IT: who's everyone?
co-worker: in my LIFE!

+++

me: let me stop you there. i need to go get some water and make a snack, because you're about to tell a story, and these things usually take a while.

i wonder why other countries keep laughing at us??

for any of you bitches who read science books, what's it like being wrong? everyone knows that there's only one Truth, and you can't find it in no text book. nay. just go to any hotel anywhere in American and open the bed side table's drawer, and you'll find the only book you need. The Bible.


Last weekend, a creation museum was opened in Kentucky by Australian, Ken Ham. I thought Australia was just an island of convicts! who knew one could be useful to us? (especially while creationist leader Ken Hovind is serving a 10 year prison sentence for tax evasion). Anyway, the creation museum cost $27 million, and looks just like a real science museum, only it's not full of lies.

Did you know...

...that retarded babies are only the product of incest when sin is involved? that's right! it has nothing to do with DNA like some scientists will try and tell you. Adam and Eve begot children that begot their own children (from each other) which was okay because they weren't sinful so the kids weren't born with hair lips, third nipples or seven legs.

...that A&E kicked it with the dinosaurs? don't believe me? well, i think this will prove it:


it's okay. they were vegetarians, not carnivores.

...that God's word is more correcter than human beings' words?


"because i said so"

...that the arc was made out of tongue depressors?



...or that science is waging a crusade against religion claiming that it isn't real? and that if you don't live by the principles of christianity you're promoting abortion, stem cell research and gayness???


janette barber wuz here --->

there's so much to learn about the flood, eden, space, fossils and god's amazingness. if you'd like to check out the website for the museum go here.

hey...it's good for a laugh.

go go speed racer!

when 21 year old ben carpenter was crossing the street at an intersection in his wheelchair, the light went green. too low to be seen by the driver, ben's wheelchair handles got caught in the grill of the truck.

not like this grill:


but like this:


the truck then proceeded to drive 50 mph for 4 or so miles down the freeway.

in a preliminary press release that has since been changed, an official statement was made by police (who initially thought the 911 calls were a prank) saying "the man spilled his soda pop, but he wasn't upset." thank god for that.

mr. carpenter, if you're reading this, i have done some research, and found you this:

we'll petition them to get them to add a cup holder.

drive safe.

Qs from Deb, As from me

blog friend deb offered to "interview" and i accepted (see rules at the end of this post).


1. Who was your favorite musical artist/group when you were a teen, and do you still like him/her/them now? Why?

the photograph of my adolescent life was framed by the music of the seattle "grunge" scene. there was mother love bone, green river, soundgarden, alice and chains and nirvana, to name a few. it was rife with angst and isolation, which matched my mindset at the time perfectly. but standing out above all the rest - much to the dismay of my nirvana-obsessed classmates - was Pearl Jam. there was something extra lonely about eddie vedder's voice that felt compelling. i was immediately hooked. immediately.

Ten was the first cd i ever bought with my own money, i was eddie vedder for halloween when i was 12, i spent most of my middle school lunch breaks in the hills of my school campus with my discman, and i even used to steal pages from magazines in the school library when such pages contained even the slightest hint of a member of the band in a photograph. and when the library responded to missing magazines by keeping them behind the librarian's post, i volunteered at the library after school - putting books away, sorting microfiche, and tucking a page from Rolling Stone magazine into my math book. my intentions were not to deceive, i was merely obsessed with covering every inch of my pretty laura ashley wallpaper with the faces of the five men i would never meet in my life, but would inspire more than anything else at that time in my life to start getting serious about writing and playing my own music.

i don't listen to them much any more. i haven't even followed them for years. but occasionally i'll turn to an old album or its lyric book and be reminded that no matter what pain or loneliness you are experiencing in your life, you will always have friends in your record collection. and not only does that encourage me as a song writer, but it encourages me as a human being.

2. You are in a sinking boat with five people: the Queen of England , the current President of the US, the President of Russia, your brother, and yourself. The boat won't sink if one of you is unceremoniously pushed over-board. Who goes, and why?

first i can't help but wonder why the hell i would be in a boat with these people. minus my brother, the company almost inspires me to throw myself off the boat. BUT since this is a hypothetical question and i am obliged to answer it, i think it's obvious i would throw W off the boat. not because i'd prefer the company of the other sailors, but because it might be a good way to get him to learn how to swim, and get a feel of what it's like to currently live in this political climate he has created - desperately trying to stay afloat, flailing around for air and the first sign of help.

3. It's midnight in Hell. Beer, Wine, or Tequila? Why?

sorry deb, but i vote whiskey. all the way. it's my experience that the list of things that make you get into hell are much longer than the list of things that get you into heaven. if you're gay, you're damned; if you laugh at baby raping jokes, you're damned; if you question the ignorance of right-wing, bible thumping folk, you're damned. i realized long ago that as a result, i am damned to hell and so are most of the people i know. so i see hell as a hole-in-the-wall bar. tom waits is at the piano singing. drinks are free and the second hand smoke doesn't kill you - it doesn't even bother you. and whiskey - whiskey all the way.

4. If you could travel anywhere with no care in the world, in first-class style, where would you go and why?

well, if i could travel anywhere, i'd travel around space. i have always wanted to see the eye of Jupiter. i'm a nerd like that.

but if i could travel anywhere in the world, it would almost definitely be ireland. i miss the crumbling churches, the local watering holes, and the green green everything. it brings me peace, and i'm in need of some peace.

5. If you were given ONE MILLION DOLLARS, what would you do with it, and why?

the practical side of me says "buy a house in san francisco", though of course one mill would only buy me the front door. but the impractical side of me would say: i'd quit my job, buy a prius, rent a beach house for a couple months and have my friends come stay with me.

Here are the "rules":

If you would like to be interviewed:
1. Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me."
2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick the questions.
3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.