Archive for the ':: joz ::' Category

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Oooh baby!

gingersmack got me goin’ hmmmmmm with this one…

Forget Einstein, here’s TRUE genius…

Yvonne was saying how her tits always popping out of her Wonder Bra. Joelle and gingersmack concurred.

Without getting too specific about my personal experiences on this topic, you should know that “Oh, hello, what are you doing out here?” has been heard coming out of my mouth.

My theory is that the whole “Wonder Bra” thing is actually a clever ploy from some guy who wanted to see rogue tits popping out… Market the “wonder bras” to women “enhance their bustlines,” but REALLY design them to push boobs out for the world to see.

Genius! Abso-fucking-lutely genius.

They cashed The Check

This is kind of old news, but for the record, they cashed The Infamous Check.

payticket.jpg

On March 4, no less. They move fast.

Another week whizzes by…

Where does the time go. I can’t remember what I did yesterday & last week seems like a lifetime ago.

I blame Mai Tai Monday.

Washington DC, Day 3

Can I even remember that far back? It was only a week ago, but I can’t really recall what the heck I did that day. I knew I should have written it down while it was still fresh. Darn.

Let’s see…

I remember that we spent Tuesday night/Wednesday morning in Warrenton (I got up early even though I’d stayed up to an insanely late hour). We headed to downtown Warrenton and drove around the Airlie House. I felt like such an L.A. girl DRIVING everywhere… but it was POURING rain, so I didn’t feel too guilty about all the driving.

We headed back to the city we wanted to see if the cherry blossoms had bloomed. Alas, the one disappointment about the trip was that I was about a week too early to see them.

That night, I think met my friend Ann at Dupont Circle and we had dinner at this awesome Cuban food place near the Capitol. Yummy. :)

Pleasant day, despite the rain. :)

Whole lot o’ neglectin’ goin’ on… too busy drinkin’ a mai tai!

I thought that I’d be able to blog more since I’ve now returned from my trip to Washington DC, but ironically, I am even busier now than I was before/during the trip. Go figure.

formosacafe.jpg

Monday night, I went out for drinks at the (famous) Formosa Cafe with a really cool bunch of folks. The photo above is where we were sitting the other night. We didn’t know who were in 90% of the photos on the wall.

The waitress (who’d worked there for 28 years, she said) kept pushin’ their “famous mai tai” on us, so we all went for it. The first two sips were good. At the third sip, you realize that all the alcohol is already gone & all you have is some watered down juice at the bottom of your glass.

Oh well, the good company made it a worthwhile evening out.

Maybe next time, I’ll have to order an x-rated cocktail, instead.

April Fools Day!

I have nothing to say about it.

Home sweet home

After a week of travels, I’m finally home.

I have to back-blog and fill in Days 3 & on of the Washington trip, as well as my trip to/from Oaktown… which would bring me up-to-date to today.

Unfortunately, I think my network card died while I was in DC. I cannot log on to the internet or access our network.

What a pisser.

Washington DC, Day 2 (continued)

After all the excitement with the Redcoats and WCL on Day 2, I took the Metro from Capitol South back to Tenleytown-AU and grabbed a cab back to the place I’m staying.

Jan and I were rushing to leave the city before rush hour hit so I could see her weekend home in Warrenton, VA. We got stuck in traffic anyway, but made good time & got out there just in time to walk around her 2.5 acre property in the light of the sunset. Her beautiful house overlooks a small lake, complete with a dock, and a flock of ducks and geese. (Did you know that geese hiss if you get too close to them? I didn’t. They can be mean suckers.)

We had dinner with Jan’s Himalayan cat, Lilo, who insisted on hanging out on the dining room table as we ate. Rainbow, Jan’s Sun Conure, hung out on her shoulder, getting little veggie treats from Jan as we talked.

We had a quiet evening at home, watching Part 1 (of 3) of a PBS Bill Moyers special “Becoming American, the Chinese Experience.” Part 1 sucked. Jan fell asleep before the first hour was over. I was bored, but I watched it all.

I took a shower, looked through Jan’s bookcases (lots of Marilyn Monroe books), and since my insomnia had kicked in, I decided at a very late hour (past 1 am) that I would attempt to get online via Jan’s laptop there.

That was probably the biggest mistake of this trip.
Continue reading ‘Washington DC, Day 2 (continued)’

The Redcoats are coming!

Today, I got on a bus (!) and then hopped on the Metro toward Union Station.

Somewhere along the way, a swarm of folks wearing bright red jackets/coats got on. They were obviously a part of some convention & upon further investigation, I realized they were all postmasters (or retired postmasters) from all over the nation. Sweet as these hard-working folks may be, I believe it must be somewhere in the postal code that in order to be a postmaster, you absolutely must have an ugly haircut. If they hadn’t had their name tags and postal service pins on, the array of bowl cuts, mullets, and cuts-so-fugly-they-don’t-even-have-names would have led me to believe they were in town for the “Whoa Nelly! I’ve Got an Ugly Haircut” competition.

Then to my dismay, they started to follow me. When I stood up to get off the Metro, they all did the same. I swear, they followed me out to Union Station, stood in the same line as me for food, and when I finally thought I lost them, I plopped down in front of one of the fountains outside the station to eat (and to enjoy the beautifully, gorgeous weather). But then, all at once, the Redcoats started spilling out of the front doors of Union Station, like red ants evacuating their hill.

They started toward me and my palms began to sweat. I began to worry that I had accidentally made some comment about the hair out loud, instead of thinking it in my head, as I’d intended. Suddenly, they all turned and crossed the street in the other direction.

I should have figured. The National Postal Museum is across the street from Union Station.

In Washington DC

What a crazy couple of days weeks it has been.

Aside from the insanity of packing & moving, I went directly from concert craziness to packing like a madwoman in order to get on a red-eye from LAX to Reagan National Airport in DC. I only got a two hour nap on the flight from L.A. to Chicago and I had to change plans to take a 7:00 am commuter flight into Washington DC. By that time, there was not much more sleeping I could get done on the plane.

Stepping off the plane and seeing this beautiful city in the Spring made all these vibrant memories rush back to the forefront of my mind. I could instantly feel the electricity of this amazing city rush through my body and felt immediately at home. I didn’t even hesitate to get on to the Metro, defying my phobia of public transportation.

Jan, my good friend (and former work associate), picked me up from the Metro station and brought me back to her place near American University. After a quick nap and shower, we hopped into the car and drove down to the Ronald Reagan Building for a special presentation on the life of Reformist Charlotte Perkins Gilman at the Woodrow Wilson Institute.

The city is much louder than I remember it. While walking around Dupont Circle today, there were countless police officers on foot, bike, horse. Choppers flew continuously overhead. People were holding signs and chanting, protesting the war. Security is at a maximum, which is comforting and upsetting at the same time.

I had dinner with a dear friend from L.A. at a Lebanese restaurant. The food was super yummy. It was great to see her and to catch up with her since I had last seen her in L.A. before she moved here. How does 5 months fly by so quickly?

What a long, but fun & exciting day. I wish I had a digital camera so I can chronicle this short trip… I’ll take my regular camera out tomorrow and take some shots as I wander around the city.

More packing…

Pack, unpack.

Pack, unpack.

Pack, pack, pack.

Does it ever end?

Oh well. Packing for 7 days of traveling sure beats packing for a move.

A major pimpin’

If you’re dying to catch a glimpse of the mysterious jozjozjoz in action, this is where I’ll be tonight. This is also the most likely cause of my infamous twitching.

~~~~~~~~~
FYI… this concert is LA Weekly’s “Pick of the Week” & is on the front page of the entertainment section of Friday’s La Opinion!

Tickets will be available at the door & the box office opens at 7pm!

canta.jpg
Continue reading ‘A major pimpin’’

Still twitching…

The consensus seems to be stress, though I was voting for Kevin’s thought that the twitching might be caused by low potassium intake.

So I ate two bananas. And I was still twitching.

Then I thought that I might be having a twitch attack due to lack of sleep (per siwwygirlie).

So I slept until the sun scorched my face. And I’m still twitching.

But I don’t care what Judy says… I’ve already been tweezed… so there will be no more plucking around my head for a while…

Twitchy-twichy

I have a problem.

My left eyebrow keeps twitching.

I don’t know why.

You have 978 new messages!

Doh!

I don’t check my e-mail for 2 lousy days and THIS is what I return to… thank goodness I did not even attempt to check e-mail via dial-up.

Had to go back to the old place to check via the cable modem connection, but was it worth the gas money.

Now where’s that ‘delete’ key?

Dial-up sucks

Arrrrgh.

Dial-up!?!?! What the hell?! I hate this! Damn DSL takes a week to set up?!

BAH! They just have to flip a switch!

I can’t believe they are making me suffer like this…

We’ve moved…

Mostly.

We still have the office (which stays put until we get our DSL), some kitchen stuff, and the fish tank.

Other than that, we’re done… now for the unpacking… sigh…

It’s moving day…

I better go before I get in trouble for being on the computer…

They like me… they really like me!

Ok, maybe not, but I got linked a bunch of places this week (mostly for that parking ticket check I wrote).

Check it out!

• Joelle, who rules, linked me! Whoo hoo!
• Gamshi says that I rock!
• Diana says I am her blogger hero!
• Elly pimped me!
• Hats off to me from Jenn!

Our vacuum sucks…

…Actually the problem is that it doesn’t suck.

That’s why it sucks.

[pause to be smacked senseless]

Thin Mints for breakfast

thinmint.bmp

We just got our yearly shipment of Girl Scout cookies last night.

Of course, I started eating Thin Mints right away.

And I was even smart enough to save some so I would be able to have them first thing in the morning. Yummy.

(Who cares that I just had 80 calories… 5 grams of fat and 5 grams of sugar in the first 10 minutes of my waking hours? Those Thin Mints had half-a-gram of protein, dammit!)

thinmint-nut.bmp

What the fuck do you mean when you say that I’m profane?

I’m surprised (and I admit, a little thrilled) at all the comments my parking ticket check got.

Diane, a good friend of mine, says that my blog is very funny, but also very profane.

What the fuck? I never fucking curse. I only use fucking curse words for a goddamn reason. And vulgar language can be fucking useful, too.

I only cuss when:
•I’m really, really, really, really fucking pissed
•I’m fucking frustrated
•I’ve had a run-in with a fucking bastard or total bitch
•It’s just been a fucking shitty ass day

It’s only then that my vocabulary gets all crappy and goes straight to hell. Every other word that comes out of my mouth is straight off of George Carlin’s Seven Dirty Words (Shit, Piss, Fuck, Cunt, Cocksucker, Motherfucker, and Tits, if you forgot them).

Ok, so maybe Diane has a point… but I’m going to blame it on the ‘mom’ in her. I still love her, even if she occasionally doesn’t like my choice of words. (Don’t worry, Diane… I am not in the least bit mad at you!)

Maybe I’ve got to learn to curse in Italian, instead.

Vaffanculo!

MORE:
THIS is the Monty Python bit I was looking for & Kevin found the audio for it!

I paid it, dammit.

So I bit the bullet and paid the dumbass parking ticket.

But I didn’t want to. And it wasn’t fun.

But I did leave a nice little message on my check… THAT was kind of fun…

Yes, I really did this.

UPDATE:
I really didn’t give a flying fuck if they couldn’t cash it, but Mike says that I better be careful because they might not deposit it (and therefore charge more, come after me, etc, etc.)

Call me chicken, but to save myself a potential headache (& more money), I re-opened my envelope and put a line through the word “Fucking” and initialed it.

So the check is now properly made out to “The City of Fucking L.A.”

Weirdos galore

I admit it. I am a weirdo magnet.

If I am in a public place and there are scores of people that could potentially be harassed, the crazy-scary-weirdo will seek me out (the way Anna Nicole is drawn to Godiva chocolates within a 10-mile radius) and bug me.

This is the main reason as to why I am phobic of public transportation and going to the gym alone.

A couple of weeks ago, I was at a Ralphs in K-town, when a old-crazy-scary-weirdo-guy started to talk to me as I was standing in line. What started out as a harmless “Nice weather” culminated in 7 minutes of him talking non-stop about the original Ralphs family & the fact that the checkers at Ralphs wear name tags (“Hi! My name is Mike!” he kept saying).

The supermarket-weirdo electricity must have been in the air again, last Friday. I was in the produce section in Albertson’s when a young (aspiring?) crazy-weirdo jumped out in front of my cart. She cackled endlessly while doing the lame detachable-finger magic trick I learned when I was five. I vaguely remember seeing an old-crazy-weirdo man showing her the trick as I entered the store, Evidently, this was the coolest/funniest thing in the world, and she (of course) had to show me while aisle-blocking my cart into the corner.

After successfully escaping her, I was accosted by the bag boy, who insisted that I guess how old he was (23… I guessed ‘high school age’). He then proceeded to tell me about how he and his friends all have baby faces and look younger than they actually are. Mind you, I did not ASK or CARE how the hell old he was, he just decided to start this not-that-scary-but-kinda-crazy weirdo shit with me.

I was only there to buy my ingredients for my caesar salad…

[sigh]




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