Sunday, May 6, 2012

Fresh Mozzerella in the Marcy Projects

As many of you know, I have a sister named Roz. Roz is (for the most part) a very reliable, kind, and smart person. Her main faults are her strong affinity for Timberland products, her unfortunate collection of "kooky hats", and some unsavory online dating matches (sorry to put your shit on blast, sis). Roz is also not one to turn down a free meal. She's not greedy, but lets say that she is not afraid to work the system (the system being our parents) for some grub. I can appreciate a good hustle. And because my mom pictures her as a starving child trying to make it in the ghetto's of India, she doesn't hesitate to send her 28 year old child groceries. Recently, Roz sent out her list of foods that she "wouldnt mind taking off of our hands". Lets take a peeky-peek. ******************************************************************************* Meats/Seafood 1. Chicken breasts 2. boneless pork chops (I like the thick cut ones) 3. Sandwich Fixins 4. 1lb of roast beef or Maple Glazed Honey Turkey 5. 1/4 lb sliced provolone 6. Miracle whip 7. relish Fresh Stuff 8. fat free or part skim ricotta cheese (any brand) 9. cucumbers 10. tomatoes (any kind) 11. red,orange or yellow peppers 12. strawberries 13. salad 14. golden potatoes Non-Food 15. 2 storage bins for linens 16. 3 containers to store flour and sugar (they dont have to be huge because my cabinet shelves are short) 17. plastic wrap for wrapping meats and freezing them 18.sandwich baggies non-vital items 19. fresh mozzerella (Bel Giosio if they have it, but any brand is fine) 20. shrimp 21. salmon 22. london broil or any lean steak 23. canned corn 24. frozen broccoli 25. oranges 26. plums 27. pears 28. necatrines 29. bananas 30. cantaloupe 31. whole wheat egg noodles 32. wax paper 33. lemons ***************************************************************************************** First of all, don't ever write "fixins" again. Second of all, what the fuck is this? Mariah Carey's concert rider? Is this what Christina demands Carson Daly to hand deliver to her every night before The Voice? OKAY. As a broke, 20-something, you should be asking for food because you need the essentials. This should be like a soup kitchen or a food bank. Times should be rough, like in the Marcy Projects. Are they eating Bel Giosio fresh mozzerella and salmon in the Marcy Projects? I don't remember hearing Jay-Z rapping about Bel Gioso fresh mozzerella and salmon in any of his early tunes. Nectarines?? No. No exotic citrus fruits. You can get enough vitamin C from some generic oranges, thank you. Whole wheat egg noodles? You will get half or no wheat, and you will like it. "Maple Glazed Honey Turkey". Pour some Mrs. Butterworths on a chicken patty and call it a day, sis. And I love how she has "non-vital" items, like her blood will stop pumping if she doesnt have the stuff in the other categories. Oh, no! I will stop breathing if I don't have my provolone! Im positive that once I head out on my own like Emile Hirsch in Into The Wild, I will long for a nice care package from home, but come on. Crustaceans? Really? Crustaceans??

Saturday, May 5, 2012

Dear Abby, My Spanx are longer than my skirt! What's a girl to do? Help! Sincerely, Lumpy on Long Island

Pee Couch

Before I got fired (to be addressed in a later blog), I used to babysit for these two swell little tots. There was a five year old girl who looked like a Caucasian Dora the Explorer except chunkier (no judgment), and a boy who could have been anywhere between 5 months and 3 years. Honestly I have no idea how old this kid was. All I know is that he was old enough to stand, but apparently too young to realize that shit goes in a toilet and not in ones pants. I didn't even know his name until the 3rd time I babysat. The parents called him precious boy and his sister called him bobo. I called him child. So fat, white Dora liked to play a game called lets pee in inappropriate places and stress the babysitter out. This particular evening, she decided to be mean to one Ms. Jennifer Convertible. I watched as she climbed onto the back of the couch cushion, and slowly, the tan cushions became dark brown as a Grinch smile creeped across her face.
To make matters worse, she was wearing a skirt with no underwear on because thats just how fat, white Dora rolls, so there was nothing to help lessen the force of the stream. It was a LOT of urine, and there was no wiping it off of this suede couch. I was so nervous when the parents came home, but I told them what happened and they laughed at me. "Lindsay, you clearly don't have kids. They pee on that couch all the time!" Wait. Wait. Wait. Why is this happening? Why is this normal? Why are you going to make tea and not attending to the piss-filled couch cushion, mom? Why are you going to check your e-mail, dad? Why am I dealing with all of this when I'm only making pre-teen babysitter money? And why did no one tell me that that was the designated urine couch before I lounged on it for 2 hours?

Friday, May 4, 2012

Eddie Winslow and the Fuzzy Silk Shirt

SO, this lanky-ass loser who sadly sits three cubies away from me at work thinks that the smooth fashions that men of color (Will Smith, AJ Slater, Cockroach...) sported in the 1990's is a smashing look. His name is Eddie Winslow. I believe his birth name is Joseph, but Im fairly certain that Eddie Winslow is his actual name, so thats what I call him...while talking about him behind his back because I've never actually spoken to Eddie. Everyday, I am visually assaulted by his black sitcom-y apparel. Let me tell you, this fool LOVES a good color-blocking. "Hmmm, what shall I wear today, closet? Oh, a black shirt with one burgandy sleeve and one teal sleeve? Good choice!" WTF, no its NOT a good choice! And all of his shirts are made of that weird fabric thats like fuzzy silk. That is literally the best that I can describe this fabric. Fuzzy silk. He is also not known to turn down a geometric shape. Think of the Fresh Prince episode when Will and Tyriq wore the same shirt to Hilary's catering job.
Unless you are on your way to a Boyz II Men or Bell Biv DeVoe concert with a shorty named Shanice or Tanya with an "a" on your arm, change your fucking shirt. And take off those 5,000 pleat plants while you're at it.

Wednesday, January 11, 2012


My ass is cold tonight.

Let me tell you a little something about Victoria’s Secret. Their underwear costs the approximate amount of a 1994 Nissan Sentra, and their underwear would fit comfortably on an M&M. Not even a fucking peanut M&M, but a regular, classic, dime-sized M&M. While I actually have a concave derriere, my front guttage area more than makes up for my non-butt. That’s why my jeans always fit so well when I would wear them backwards on backwards day during sprit week in high school. Whomp, whomp. But Vicki’s underwear is so small that I could go to Michaels, buy a swatch of fabric and some ribbon, swing by Coldstones because there is a Coldstones conveniently located next to my local Michaels, go home, eat my frozen treat, and make the same underwear for under $3. My fucking ice-cream would cost 3 times that. Gotta Have It my ass (too bad I really do, though). Sorry, Vicki, but I’m not paying $18 for a perma-wedgie. The only thing I would buy from there would be a $48 before tax bra so that I could go home and hang myself with it after seeing this shit all up in my grill.

You think I wanna see this ho's football-sized vag in my face as I’m trying not to think about how my arm is the same circumference as this bitches waist? Depressing. Back to Coldstones we go.

So anyway, that is why I do not shop at Victoria’s Secret.

I instead choose to purchase my under things at the following locations: Target, K-mart, and Sears. Here’s a little tip that the people on the style network won’t tell you: FOR UNDER $7, YOU CAN GET 6 PAIRS OF AWESOME, COMFORTABLE UNDERWEAR. You walk your ass into one of these stores, try not to make eye-contact with all of the people with wonky, lazy eyes that are bound to be shopping there, and you sail into the underwear section and find the wall of wonder. Hanes and Fruit of the Loom make amazing cotton underwear that come rolled up in neat little bundles, sealed with love and a piece of scotch tape. They have different styles and types, and I love to get the granniest ones (I refuse to say the word that rhymes with schmanties) that I can find that go way above my belly button. They are essentially gym shorts from the 70’s, and I love them. It is heaven in your pants. Don't knock it till ya rock it, ladies. Instead of regular sizes, they come in sizes 2-10, which in regular people world is size range xs-xxxl. It’s probably the only time I will ever be a size 6…There are 5 pairs in a pack, and they usually include a bonus pair for the low price of $6.87. Total. CHA-CHING. Is there anything better than this in life? Sitting in a suede recliner chair in $1.14 underwear while eating ice-pops and watching High School Musical 2 is essentially how I wanna leave this world. No shame. No regrets.

The only downside to my packages of underwear rolls is that they often come in really dumb patterns. Beige and turquoise dandelions, shooting starts, gray and pink hearts, dumb shit like that. I do not let this stand in the way of my purchase, though. Still too sweet of a deal. And it’s not like anyone but me sees these bad boys, anyway. Actually, my aunt does, too, when I trick her into doing my laundry, but she doesn’t judge. She has no right to. She walks all the way to 7-11 just to buy Mountain Dew and taquitos. Okay, B. Spears in 2006. Tonight, I thought I had the perfect solution- BLEACH. My understanding of the powers of bleach is that you can put any fabric in bleach, swirl that mess around, let it soak for a little, and a short time later, the items in there would be white! Eureka (‘s Castle was the best show ever)! I tried this tonight. I got six new, still taped-up pairs of my unmentionables (which I’ve actually mentioned quite a bit), and tossed those babies into some undiluted bleach. Remember when Cher tried to bake that dude cookies by just dropping the whole log on a cookie sheet…

So I went babysitting, got harassed and taunted by some tweens, pretty much my usual evening. I got home a few hours later, scooped myself a cup of blue Marino’s ice, ate it while laughing at all of the misfortunes of the teen moms on Teen Mom, then went to take a shower. I opened the shower curtain and saw my 5-gallon bucket of bleach. It was quite the pleasant surprise because I had forgotten about those suckers. I peeked in only to find…beige and turquoise dandelions, shooting stars, and gray and pink hearts! What the fuck, bleach? Do your fucking job, bleach! Pissed off that my experiment didn’t work, I went to fish them out using a wire hanger, and the point of the hanger poked right through my drawers! Okay, I chalked it up to a freakishly sharp hanger. I got some of the latex gloves that I stole from my grandma’s hospital room over the weekend (I’m a legit medical supplies klepto), and put them on. As soon as my hand lifted the rim of one of the pairs from out of the bucket, the whole thing just tore to shreds and disintegrated! Who the fuck am I, Edward Scissorhands?? It was like wet tissue paper. I thought that maybe it was just a freak pair (?) and I went to get the next one and THE SAME THNG HAPPENED. Tore apart like beef that had been in a crock-pot for a week. Why did no one ever tell me that when trying to remove the flowers off of your underwear, you could not sit them in a bucket of concentrated bleach for 5 hours? Thanks a lot, “friends” and “loved ones”. Assholes.

So now I’m out $6.87, I have to go buy Dar-Dar some more bleach because I used 80% of the entire container, and I have to go back to k-mart with the lazy-eyed, camo wearing people and get some new underwear. Worth the trip.