My roommate just took a massive slam while I was showering this morning. Do we have two bathrooms? Yes. So WHY??????????

Did the said roommate apologize for the faux pas? No.

So. Angry.

The steam-y shower made it seem as if I were swallowing a mouthful of poo-air, and though I may be a bit kinky -- a girl has to draw the line.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Don't fuck with a man having a Brad Pitt moment, or he'll shoot you in the arm.

http://www.cnn.com/2008/CRIME/12/27/movie.shooting/index.html

Stanley Milgram proved decades ago that when ordered or asked strongly -- people will inflict pain on others.

Are we all Nazis in this recessive state of evil? What the fuck ever happened to personal responsibility or any sense of morality? This study angered me.

http://www.cnn.com/2008/HEALTH/12/19/milgram.experiment.obedience/index.html?iref=mpstoryview

Yesssss. You know you love it.

So, in light of my heinous work schedule and need for some last minute Christmas shopping -- I will not be cooking for Sunday Music Club.

I will instead order a fuck ton of pizza.

Yea.

If you are A. opposed to pizza b/c pizza killed your mom and subsequently causes night terrors or B. have an insane dairy/wheat/gluten issue that will make my toilet bowl explode in terror or C. just fucking hate pizza -- then please comment below...

If you have topping preferences please comment below.

If anyone wants to bring dessert-y items or alcohol, then that would be cool -- I will try to provide something beer-ish... :)

Kisses and Bah fucking humbug


Liz

***Please RSVP on facebook b/c I'm giving out a present to those attending***

Loves you all!!!

I bought this dress at Target, and when I realized that A. I hated the dress B. I wanted to return it C. I fucking forgot the receipt, I had to take the sequin covered tent back for a gift card. Meh.

Well, "Penny" at customer service wouldn't let me take it back because it exceeded thirty-five dollars, and it SAYS ON THE BACK OF THE RECEIPT that you can't return anything over thirty-five bucks for a gift card without a receipt. I looked down at the forlorn tag still clinging onto that hot mess of a dress and gave up to buy faux fur pillows in housewares.

On a whim I looked on the back of the fucking receipt and noticed that the magical rule of the thirty-five or more "fuck you" wasn't stamped on the back. Well, I took my haughty ass over back to Customer Service and eyed Penny down like a winner.

She stood her ground, so I requested (very politely) that I would like to see the magic rule in writing. She denied and told me to call a fucking number. I spoke in "pissy customer code" and requested to speak to the manager. She radioed him in (*I could hear him guffawing in the trucker radio).

I waited twenty minutes for him to slay a goddamned dragon and manage to walk three feet to me.

He looked me down and barked "Is your dress more than 35 dollars?"

"Yes" (I am woman hear me roar...).

"Do you have a receipt"?

"No, and I would like to see in writing where you have that 35 dollar or more no refund on a gift card rule."

"Nope, but I can write something down for you."

You have to imagine this beast of a man yelling this last statement at me and five kajillion customers staring at this scene.

My response?

I did the peon bullshit customer tale-between-the-legs thing: "Well, sir, I think that I'm going to have to call corporate."

I sat huddled in my cold car outside of Barnes and Noble waiting fifteen minutes until a thick-accented man listened to me crying in the phone. Yes. That manager made me cry b/c he embarrassed me. The poor guy answering on the other end of the phone must have thought that I was fucking nuts.

I'm really just tired. Shopping and work and the fucking holidays have worn me down, and yes, Mr. Target manager tipped the scales with a teeny dose of assholishness.

Bah humbug.

Dear Manager of the Edgewood Target "Ralph"-

You suck big, nasty, crusty balls. That is all.


Sincerely,


Elizabeth A. Stierwalt

yes
I will watch you jogging from spindle wheel
to spindle wheel racing the heartbeat thud
filling
the air trappings in frequent bursts of
violin staccato still I study
you
knifing
the quiet quick longing with my reddened glow
live
so that I may and
the Daisy will do Daisy will
love Daisy needs
the Daisy
you

I am so depressed that I can barely breath right now.

It's stupid of me to post this emo shit. I realize this. I don't want sympathetic responses, I just need to vent.

This morning my father referred to me as a "fatty", and it makes me want to stop eating.
Except that I won't -- I guess that's why I'm such a fatty. Hmm...well father -- if you must know -- I'm half motherfucking GERMAN and those bitches are NOT rail thin. I think that yes, I could stand a work out or twelve, but I've never had a problem getting a date, so FUCK OFF. **loves you :)

Also, if you (*Alex) WANTED super deluxe special razors handcrafted from the hands of midgety Vietnamese children in the finest of sweatshops, then YOU COULD FUCKING GET THEM YOURSELF. I did you a 12 dollar, non-cheap favor, so put on your big-girl panties and THANK ME instead of pouting and yelling like a lil' bitch.

Shit ya'll.

Also-

I'm going to spend the holidays with Republican relatives who can barely look me in the eye because I wrote a fucking sex column YEARS ago in college. Srsly. Black ppl are not scary. The president is not the fucking anti-Christ, and in no way do I condone my cousin's wife's father speaking kindly of dog-fighting.

AND I'm not a satan-worshipping heathen (*pronounced "heeethern") for asking to bring a bottle of wine for Thanksgiving. I was trying to be nice, you ungrateful bitches.

You know what? Fuck it. I'm spending the motherfucking holidays by my motherfucking self. I'm going to watch horror movies and drink vodka martinis while chain smoking Parliament Lights in my bathrobe until I pass out (*sans a lighted cigg).

OH AND TO MY ANOREXIC BOSS--

When you gave me a "look" and told me that YOU were only going to eat one slice of pizza while inquiring how much the rest of us usually eat---

FUCK YOU. Most normal adults will eat at least two or three slices of cheese pizza. Consider the lack of toppings. Add a slice. It's an EASY formula.

Gah.

EDIT:

I'm also going to stop recording "How It's Made" because there are a million of them taking up dvr space that you don't watch.

"How It's Made" sucks balls. I don't want to fucking watch a goddamned crayon being made. Ooh look at the crayon-y liquid pouring into the crayon shaped mold. WOW. JUST FUCKING WOW. My life is more meaningful now that I know how crayola fucking does it day in and day out.

End of rant. Have a happy holiday, folks and thanks for reading my insane melt down. Also, Alex, I was kidding about deleting "How It's Made" -- don't fucking touch my "Gilmore Girls". Srsly.

I recently accepted a new job offer today :) It's all about them dolla' dolla' billz ya'll.

I bought two new pairs of shoes - a pair of FOUR INCH tall Chinese Laundry black boots AND these:

http://www.dsw.com/dsw_shoes/catalog/product.jsp?index=75&category=cat20006&prodId=176877&brand=

I also got a new black suit and a scarf.

The pics below are random snapshots from Mary's, Thanksgiving, and the fabulous, gaudy wreath that I made :) .I was also recently strapped into a mall bungee kid device and had some crotch-hugging FUN. Aww yeah.

Eww. Srsly.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9_3T6q88QF4&eurl=http://www.facebook.com/home.php

Today is the BAMA v. AUBURN game. Roll Tide.

This is a youtube vid of her singing karaoke in NYC. Bwahahahahaha.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y2JNqkncv2Q

Here are some reasons why:

http://www.dscc.org/blog?blog_entry_KEY=488

A few weeks ago, two of my friends from Tuscaloosa, AL made the trek to Atlanta to visit me and to drag me to this random-ish concert, Matt Nathanson. I checked itunes and came across his hit tune -- I think it's called "C'mon Get High" -- and liked it okay, so I went.

Um.

Here were the pop culture references that he made: "Keeping up with the Kardashians," "Gossip Girls," and some other show of that calibre.

Now, let me fess up to my behind closed doors t.v. viewing shamefulness--"The Real Housewives of Atlanta". Oh Jesus. Yes. I've discussed the hissy bitch fits of Sheree, NeNe, and Kim's god-fucking awful country faux-singing as recently as last night at Sunday Music Club.

Thank you Mr. Westbrook for sharing the love of such trash.

Back to Matt Nathanson-

On top of his other teenage-girl baiting tripe- he verbally had his way with Aha's "Take on Me" and REM's "Losing my Religion" - while channeling my inner Stipe, I held my restraint and remained somewhat calm. One of the girls in our posse fucking LOVED this guy and was mouthing the words to all of his songs, so I couldn't just leave.

Shit.

His music mimicked Christian pop rock sans the Jesus. Well, awesome. I got to spend a weekend night with hundreds of seventeen year olds bopping to some forty year old dirtbag singing Christ pop while referencing t.v. shows to stay "in touch" with those perky tits-a-bouncing in the audience.

My incredibly passive pal, Amanda, almost engaged in fisticuffs over this drunk redneck in the row behind us who kept shrilly squealing "AYE AYE" -- I felt as if I had "the rage" and would begin sputtering around biting his neck off.

I mean, this is ATLANTA. I thought that I was in a safe, liberal buffer zone. No. Hell naw. Cletus McNattylite was guffawing and hooting behind us.

That Sat. night, I went with Alex to see his uncle, Pat Dixon, do his comedic thang. He was awesome and noted to me that at his radio station interview, some douche named Matt Nathanson was there taking up space.

I saw Pat last Sat night, too -- he was with Greg Geraldo (*who is painful-gut-breathing-impaired funny).

Last night we had Sunday Music Club at Genene's, and it rocked. Parks, I will buy your Ford Midgette only if it gets good gas mileage :) .

And Rob- you CAN make a cupcake bigger than god, and no, that would not be the same as a sheet cake. They are DIFFERENT. Fair enough?

Heh. All of you SMC-ers crack me up. Loves you all :) .

Truly, truly





I'll take my steamed crap with some arugula :)