Author Archives: iasshole
Is That…A Target on My Back or Something?
Yew, yew, yew, and I’m not talking about wood. As I was leaving my house this morning to walk El Strudel to school, one of the construction workers across the street made a really gross sexual comment about my appearance.
My first reaction was like, REALLY? Are you serious? The guys out there talk to me a lot and say how’s it going, but this is the first time.
My second reaction was to feel really skeeved and like I did not want to come back to my house.
I called the company and left a message with customer service. I called my landlady, who I hardly ever bother, to let her know to see if I could get some support as a tenant on her property. Then I shopped and lollygagged in the parking lot, reading the Weekly til it was time to retrieve the Strudel.
I saw my big kid at school today when I picked up Strudel. She is doing okay. I urged her to tell the people in her life what she wants, even if it means she might get punished for it. Maybe someone, especially someone who might be funding potential litigation, will listen.
PS
Also, son of a beetching comment spam. I know it is a never-ending problem, and this is not a help-me whine. I make a solemn vow to, every time I get a comment spam, to track it down and close the comments on that entry and clean it up. I hate to do that, because sometimes I get cool comments on four-year-old entries, but enough’s enough. If I stick with it, maybe I’ll be dug out and shut down on the old ones in six months or so. SOLEMN VOW.
I just found this entry, which had 175 comments. Holeee shit. Closed!
PS, FULL OF WIN! Thanks, ladderlady.
I Guess It Wasn’t My Lucky Lipstick After All
Today I was on the phone with a friend for twenty-one minutes and thirty-six seconds. I know this because when I hang up my phone immediately tells me how long I talked for. I guess this is supposed to be some kind of helpful feature, so you can keep track of how many of your alloted minutes you’re using. This never worries me, though, because we have approximately four hojillion minutes in the bank. As it is, it’s just another annoyance that makes me feel like my life’s being measured out and apportioned.
At the end of my twenty-or-so minute phone call, I realized that the house had gotten deadly quiet. Like the absence of people. That feeling you get when you come home and the stove’s cold and the house is stuffy and there’s a note on the table that says, “We went to the beach! (Fuck you!)”
“I should wrap this up,” I said. “My house is too quiet.”
“Uh-oh,” my friend said. “You better go find out what Strudel’s up to.”
The Sauce of Awesomeness: Is twitturday
Because you don’t have anything important to do today anyway.
GAAH I feel like doing nothing today.
In other news, there is a weird hippie in front of my house giving my snapdragons the shaking of their lives. I asked her if she was collecting seeds and she was like, “Yeaaah.” No hello, no nothing. ACT NORMAL. JUST TODAY, PEOPLE.
Short Skirt Long Jacket
Okay! So a couple of days ago I asked you about this little ensembluh. Like the good Citizens of Assholeport that you are, you had opinions! Lots of them. Some of you hated the tights. Some of you liked my legs (which is probably because the tights hide my gills and scales). Anyway, these are the results: YOU’RE ALL BANNED.
J/K, J/K. I meant to say, thanks. And here’s the real results:
34 (35%) of you said, “Yes, PLZ” to the shoes and skirt.
64 (65%) of you said, “Hellz to the noes” to the shoes and skirt.
THANK YOU.
The wager: I showed Companion my new denim skirt, and I was thinking about what shoes to pair them with. As you may guess, there is a Cast of Tens to choose from. Companion immediately seized upon the shoes in the picture, which I don’t know if I’ve even worn since we’ve been together. I bought them in the amazing year 1999, for that New Year’s party where SeaFed’s parents rented a whole museum. Crazy, huh?
Anyway, I find them to be out of style for the time being. Also, in a fit of hotel room boredom, I painted the buckle to match my dress. Which I recommend if a buckle is too brassy or something, but maybe not burgundy. Maybe black instead. I dunno.
I keep them around as emergency backup shoes now. I find that when I have an argument with someone, I am really enjoying taking it to a poll. My reward for this one, on top of being right, is that I don’t have to wear them for a night out with Babydaddy, which was to be my punishment if you all said “Yes PLZ.”
The End.
Verruh Important Developments, Except Not At All
1. Strudel went to her open house at her new school, which is of course her sister’s old and current school. She did great. She was very, very Peace the Spork Out, Mom (to quote Trent) and merrily be-puzzled and played with the farm set and ooohed at the fish. Somehow I got myself first on the list to take Beloved Classroom Hamster in case the state says they can’t keep it.
The state also has an issue with the fact the school has no playground equipment. They have a beautiful park across the street with ACTUAL CLIMBING TREES and grass and stuff, which leads to imagination games, etc, and this does not meet the state’s criteria because there is no plastic crap for the kids to meet the state’s checklist of what kids must do on playgrounds. It sounds like the state wants their school to be like all the other schools because the philosophy doesn’t fit into a box. It’s not like we’re talking piles of broken glass here.
One of my bosses wants to meet with me on her first first real day at school, and the extremely selfish part of me is going NOOOOO! because I’m pretty sure that on your youngest child’s first day of school you are supposed to be face down in an opium den, chokin on your vomit, whilst receiving a camouflage ass massage. IT’S IN THE FLIPPIN HANDBOOK. AH NO MAH RIGHTS.
2. Speaking of school, I forgot to tell you that when I saw SeaFed on Saturday, you know, when I did that Harry Potter Conspiracy jam? we talked about school a bit and he was very “school starts next week BWAH?” and I was like, “R U getting the mailingz? The mailingz, let me show you them?” He should have seen it; I even had Impact 726 pt. scrollin’ across my boobs, but no. He said, “Verily I hath such maylings, but ye townnes donkey-ledde postule carte hath been travethes slowlee af late.” And I was all, “WHUT? DO NOT WANT.”
It’s like we’re speaking a different language or something! EL-OH-EL!
APPLE JUICE BREAK
3. So, today, for a happy flippin’ Friday, one of my friends invited me to make farm rounds with her. She gets to drive to farms as part of her job. So I will take some pictures of hott uncensored sheep and shit, because you know how we roll up in the Rancho Asshole.
4. Also, now that it is Ye Olde New Autumn, I am enjoying Murchie‘s autumn chai with a splash of cream. Yum YUM YUM! I am not usually a slave to the oppressive Seasonal Beverage Regime (well, okay, I don’t drink eggnog in June), but this is working out so well. It’s like they planned it that way, or something.
5. I am up at BlogHer today, writing a post about Hello Kitty. If you read only one hyperbole-laden, LIFE-CHANGING/AFFIRMING writing by I, Asshole this year, for the Love of Oprah’s Left Titty please make it this one.
6. Finally, I am going to deal with my shoe/skirt quiz later today and reveal what all the nonsense was about.
So later…the results of the quiz, and what it means for your commute! Next on Fuuuchs!
Seattle’s Leader in Urban Living Can Suck My Scrabblebag
Glover Homes, Seattle’s Leader in Urban Living, is building a cluster of townhomes on my street. I am actually urban density FTW, but this company is making me crazy. Today they parked in my driveway, and I booted them out. Their trash goes everywhere, including fast food wrappers. There was always some trash on this street, and blowing into my yard, but it has definitely increased since they started. I guess I should consider myself lucky they park in my driveway, since they park on my neighbor’s lawn, most recently Advanced Plumbing. I called to tell Glover that this was happening, and suprisingly they…don’t seem to care. What? That never happens.
This is the same construction project where the derelict wandered up to me and was ranting about the Mexican language.
My other neighbor, the one who had the party where the old lady fell into the bushes, goes out and tells them to wrap it up if they go after six. I don’t blame him; he just retired and he wants his peace and quiet, dammit. I know construction is noisy, but it seems like they could be a little more careful, since this is a residential street.
You shouldn’t have to tell people not to park in your driveway. Glover Homes FTL.
Vote or I Will Come to Your House and Leave Toof Marks in Your Butter
UPFUCKINGDATE! 9/6: After I made this post, Blogpoll shit the bed on me. So I posted a new poll. You guys! So game. At first I was reading the comments and I thought you had all been sniffing paint fumes or something, which is enjoyable. And then I realized you were actually trying to guess what I wanted. So PLZ take the poll, below the pics!
Your opinionz, PLZ show me them. You can’t hurt my feelings. This is just a friendly wager. More explaining after I am done polling.
Please try to ignore the tawdry tights; they were all I could find. No, they don’t look better IRL. No, I don’t know why I was in love with them last fall.
Gratuitous commentary can be reposited in the usual repository.
What the Crap is Plum Dust? The Bounties of Harvest Season, Etc, etc.
Okay, so I went plum picking with friends this weekend, which was awesome. We got enough plums to completely bury someone like, say, John Travolta, in an avalanche of plumdom. Companion made jam out of most of them, like the sweet burly Martha he is. I made a tart last night, and it turned out pretty well. We also foisted many on friends and neighbors.
I was watching my friend shine one up to give to Strudel, and I thought to myself, “What the crap is that dust on the outside of the plum, anyway?” Our other friend suggested it was some kind of wax, but after some cursory wiki-ing I don’t think so now. There’s dust on grapes, too, especially concords.
What is it?
In other news, we are completely overrun by fruit flies. I think it started when we went out of town. But we have a garden spider who, as of this morning, I have named Judith due to a discussion of biblical women with my cool frond. Every time she catches a fruit fly I pretend it’s Holofernes’s head.
I was just thinking that “Jusith Holofernes” would be a great name for a character in a novel, but it looks like it’s been done. Dag. Back to the drawing boardz.
Religion: I’m in it for the art. And lulz.
If Youth Knew; If Age Could
–Henri Estienne
Me: Our new neighbor thought that the bike parts you hung to spraypaint were art.
Companion: Ha!
Me: I know. They are so young.
Companion: We should invite them over and give them beers.
Me: Oh yeah?
Companion: Then they will say a bunch of stupid stuff they think is true.