Archives for April 2014

Why My Work BFF Being on a Diet is Ruining My Life

So my work BFF has decided to go on a diet. I’m totally against diets, I hate them, but because I love her, I’m all about helping her stick to it. Work BFF is the reason I want to come to work every day. She makes everything about being there more entertaining, including lunch. She has the most disgustingly perverted sense of humor, amazingly fascinating Tinder dating stories and she makes me laugh to the point of tears on a regular basis. I imagine, should one of us (It won’t be me because I am too lazy to look for another job) decide to move on, our separation would be somewhat similar to Jack’s and Rose’s of Titanic.

Rose: I love you, Jack.

Jack: Don’t you do that, don’t say your good-byes. Not yet, do you understand me?

Jack: Never let go.

Rose: I’ll never let go, Jack. I’ll never let go.

Okay, maybe this is a little dramatic, but whatever. I derailed… This isn’t about my love for my work BFF; it’s about her diet and how it is making me hate my job. For the last few months my job has sucked. Sucked hard. Too much stress, obnoxious co-workers, blah, blah, blah. So to cope with the shit show I call my job, Work BFF and I eat. A lot. We order in, we carry out, we eat out; if it involves food we are on it. But she has opted to bail on me and go on a diet.

Now on to why her diet is ruining my life. Not getting to eat out every day sucks. It sucks for so many reasons, but mostly because it makes me crabby. Food makes me happy…really good food makes me really happy. See where I’m going with this?

Here’s a scenario: Hey, coworker, you keep talking over me every chance you get and I’m going to punch you in the throat. Trust me, I’m a professional and I know what I’m doing.

Normally, I would take a deep breath and think; “It’ll be okay because in an hour I’ll be eating this:

ImageMmmm…Turkish food.

But instead, I’m eating this:

ImageYeah, fml. Poor coworker, you just may get punched in the throat because I wasn’t able to get my mood-balancing lunch.

Scenario part two: Hey, lady, who has called me nine times over two days. Your messages are ambiguous and meaningless. I will not call you back unless you call with something that actually pertains to my job. Every time I see that fucking red voicemail light on my phone, I know it’s you and I want to beat the shit out of the phone Office Space style.

But it’s okay, because this will be my lunch:

ImageSub sandwich I love you with all my heart.

Now after Work BFF’s diet, I’m eating this:

Image”Now tastes even better!” I can’t even imagine what it tasted like before. Disgusting. FYI…lady, you’ll be getting that call back you requested and it won’t be pleasant, because my day is missing my nitrate-loaded lunch meat sandwich.

Now I know I could just eat out on my own. Order a shit load of food and consume it, but by doing that I will be testing Work BFF’s willpower. So, I carry on, crabby and wearing my bitchface all day because I know she’s working hard at this. I’m proud of her, even if it means I’m miserable. Plus, I’ll go home and drink till my lips go numb to make up for it.

PM2

The Fictional BF Games, round 1 – Peeta v Gale

Peeta-Gale-Liam-Hemsworth-Josh-Hutcherson

One thing PM1 and I agree on is swearing, but there is something we disagree on and it’s pretty fucking big.

Peeta Fucking Mellark

Told you it was big. Now we are two grown ass women in our thirties. We have no business obsessing over a teenage fictional character. But, because we’re (I say we’re, but I really mean I’m. PM1 got lumped in with me so I’m not lonely), losers and clearly have no life, we do this kind of shit.

I need to clarify…I’m Team Peeta all the fucking way, but I’m not Team Katniss. She’s a hardcore bitch who leads Peeta around by his dick. Poor Peeta, that must hurt. Would you like me to kiss it for you?

So here’s my letter to Peeta:

Dear Peeta,

When are you going to stop fucking around and drop Katniss for me? She doesn’t love you, but I do. I totally put out and would have made being trapped in that cave worth your while, if you know what I mean. 😉 I’d be the hummus to your Peeta, you can butter my muffin, you can put a bun in my oven anyday. And, furthermore, there’s not a chance in hell I’d leave you for Gale.

Love, your future wife and a good lay,

PM2

PS…I’m willing to overlook the fact that you’re ridiculously short if you keep making baked goods. We’ll make it work.

 

Alright my (PM1) response to this Peeta Mellarky is this; Peeta is a whiny little bitch and Katniss made the biggest mistake of her life not choosing Gale. I’m not anti-Katniss like PM2 is. I mean the girl gets major props for her bow and arrow actions, and I love that she can hold her own in a fight. However, I am definitely Team Gale, and I’m about to explain why.

  1. He can fight. Put simply, if he’d have gone into the arena with Katniss, they would have kicked ass and won, days earlier. Yes, yes, Peeta can do interesting things with cake frosting and can hide himself as a moss covered rock (boring), but can he put an arrow through your dinner or the enemy? No, he can’t. Gale can.
  2. He knows what he wants and he goes for it. Just like whiny bitch Peeta, Gale is also in love with Katniss. Difference is, he lets her know about it. He doesn’t sit around being all pathetic, admiring her from afar, only to declare his love in a “fake announcement” to ensure their survival in the arena. No. He takes the bull by the horns, or Katniss by her two cheeks as it were, and he plants a big wet smooch on her lips. Affection noted Gale, affection noted.
  3. Despite aforementioned love, he’s still willing to call Katniss out on her shit, and this is never more so than when it concerns that whiny bitch Peeta. You see Katniss does love Gale, she knows she does, she even admits it to all of us. Problem is, she gets stuck with Peeta and as a result, she has to regularly save his ass (see point 1). This leads to her feeling both sorry for and obliged to Peeta. Yes, yes, she may also develop feelings for him, I can accept that, the boy can bake after all, but she still loves Gale. She knows it, Peeta knows it and Gale damn sure knows it. And when she continues to play the boys off against each other, Peeta sits back and takes it like the whiny bitch he is while Gale calls her out on it. It’s called tough love Katniss, and Gale has it for you, in spades.
  4. He’s man enough to know when he’s lost her. Unlike whiny bitch Peeta, who constantly mopes around giving Katniss the silent treatment or telling Gale that she loves him, Gale, at least, can admit defeat. He knows when Katniss has chosen, even before she has and he’s man enough to take it
  5. “I had to do that. At least once.” Enough said.

Ding. Ding. End of Round 1.

Fourgasm

article-2506551-19649ED200000578-438_634x399

Two words…Holy. Fuck.

No, I mean seriously, I don’t actually think I can speak. Any words I say will not do this man justice. And by man, I mean fictional character in a movie adaptation of a best-selling novel, who is now my future husband (sorry current husband).

Do I need to set the scene, so you know who I’m talking about? Ok, for those living on another planet, I just went and saw Divergent. Divergent is a nice little movie, based on the first book in a pretty well-known series, written by Veronica Roth. Oh, who the fuck am I kidding. Divergent is the smash hit, first book, and now movie, from the International best-selling YA dystopian trilogy, set in a post-apocalyptic Chicago where the population is divided into five factions based on bravery, intelligence, honesty, selflessness and peace. It features Tris, a kickass heroine who choses the bravery faction instead of the selfless one she was born in to, and Four, a trainer in the bravery faction, Tris’ mentor and BF, and my future husband. Sorry Tris, but you and I both know what happens in the end. He’s going to need to move on.

Without going into the plot, because unless you’ve been living on another planet, you’ll know it, and if you are living on that other planet, then you probably don’t care, I can safely say that this is a story, a movie and characters that are definitely worth checking out. It has a female lead who is strong, fierce and knows what she wants, which is a refreshing change from the whiny, submissive bitches we’ve seen so much of in the past. The future world is well-described, the entire concept of factions and how they work together is extremely cool, and most importantly of all, it has Four.

Oh Four…how do I even begin to describe how amazing you are. Not just a pretty face, you have a body to die for, a tattoo that leaves me drooling and a voice that can literally give me a Fourgasm. Every time you spoke (to me) last night, I felt like I needed a stiff drink and a cigarette. And let’s not even go into what the balcony scene did to me. Taking your shirt off was one thing, but Tris (me) running her (my) fingers all over your tattoo before you turn and kiss her (me) with those amazing lips of yours…Fuck. Me….Fuck me hard, please.

Be rest assured my gorgeous man, I have indeed spent all night google-imaging you. What can I say; my Fourgasm got harder, bigger, better…fuck, it got multiplied.

Excuse me while I go take a cold shower.

PM1

Can’t Park For Shit

When we decided to start this blog, I didn’t think the stories would immediately appear, but it turns out I was wrong. One day after a lengthy and downright stupid Facebook convo about our blog, that in turn included too many uses of the word yo, a blog post appeared to me as if it was sent from the heavens above. (Seeing as I have little faith in religion, this statement is slightly ironic and probably condescending to all who believe, but new pope says I can go even if I don’t believe. I’m cool with that.)

But back to the blog… I decided to randomly take the day off of work, which always seems like a fab idea until I enter the day world of the non-working asshats. (Aka: Old retired peeps)

Somehow I manage to make it to the library with only a few expletives leaving my mouth. But when I pull into the parking lot, a loud “fuck” pours from my mouth. The parking lot is packed. Who likes to visit the library on a random Wednesday at 9:30am? I’ll tell you…old people. Turns out they were hosting a class on how to use your ereader. (This is a whole separate blog post. I have so many questions about this course!)

I get in and get out quickly, seeing as I have more pressing matters to attend to. I have to be at the boozy theater at 10:30am to see Divergent. (Yes, I used booze and 10:30am in the same sentence. Go ahead judge me.) Hauling ass back to the parking lot, I encounter this:

10169022_10152731702934377_685894559_n

My first thought: What. The. Fuck.

Second thought: Seriously, what the fuck?

Now the picture doesn’t do this justice. My car is the white one. The red car’s front end is literally in front of the back end of my car. That’s the first and probably the biggest issue. Next, the space between the two cars is so fucking small that I can’t even fit my ass in it, let alone open the door to get in my car. I look around and realize I’m boxed in. Car in front, cars on either side. Fml…

But just as I’m pondering how the asshat got out of their vehicle, an old Asian lady (Yep, call me a racist) climbs out of the passenger side of the red car. She looks at me, shrugs her shoulders and starts to walk into the library. Again… What! The! Fuck!

Me: Hey, lady! You can’t leave your car like this. I can’t get out.

Lady: I don’t know. (She legit said idk. You don’t know what??? How to fucking park? How to drive? How to communicate with people? FFS)

Me: You gotta move your car.

Lady: There no parking.

Me: Then pull out of the spot and wait for me to leave.

Lady: I can’t get in car.

Me: Neither can I.

By this point the F word is on the tip of my tongue. And what I really want to say is, “You’re a hundred fucking years old and possibly Mr. Chow from The Hangover’s, grandma. Get off the fucking road because clearly you can’t park a fucking car!”

So, in the end Can’t Park for Shit, gets the car out of the spot, but not before an Austin Powers style sixty point turn and a few mumbled fucks from my mouth.

The important thing here is that I made it on time to see Divergent…alone, like the only loser, dipshit in the theater, alone. Where I consumed two beers, a bag of popcorn, three mini bacon cheeseburgers and red velvet bread pudding. A reward to myself for not killing Grandma Chow.

A valuable lesson was learned today…people need a course on how to park a car, not how to use an ereader.

And my review of Divergent: Holy shit fuck…loved it and Four…so hot.

PM2