Thursday, July 20, 2017

Hockin’ Up History.

If you ever feel unattractive, just remember that you look like your ancestors, and hey, ALL of them got laid.

I’ve been wondering about my background, and decided to finally find out through Ancestry.com. I’m under the assumption that I’m mostly Polish and a little Russian, but I’d like a definitive answer and maybe a nice surprise. (Fingers crossed I’m not that white.)

I filled the vial they sent me with saliva (the blue tint is from a stabilizing solution, not a Flavor-Ice pop), and sent it back to Ancestry.com. Because they’re pretty backed up, I won’t get the results for six to eight weeks. Until then, you’re my only hope, spit.

Wednesday, July 19, 2017

I Will Choke A Man.

CUSTOMER REP: How does your name appear on your credit card?
ME: If I had to guess, I’d say it’s 11 pt. Arial bold.

For the second time in a month, someone stole my credit card number. This genius used it to try to pay his monthly cell-phone bill with the ultra-ghetto Straight-Talk Wireless, who doesn’t give a shit about prosecuting him – they simply turned off his service. So justice wasn’t served, but on the bright side, I cursed at one of their customer reps until he hung up on me.

So now begins the process of once again changing 22 automatic payments I have set up, and then I get to do it all over again next month when Chase changes its MasterCards to Visas. I realize these are champagne problems, but I don’t care. It’s a pain in the ass, no one gets punished, and it makes me yearn for sweeter moments, like every time I bang my knee on the coffee table.

Tuesday, July 18, 2017

My Most Valuable Blog Comment.

Perks of dating me: You will be the sane one.

And when you completely tire of my shit and leave me, don’t stray too far – I’ve got Dr. Agbazara at my disposal.

He’s earned his medical degree in healing the most broken relationships, and you have no choice in the matter. Love you too.

Monday, July 17, 2017

Rule-Free Weekend.

“Incentivizing” my nephew by threatening to eat his burger if he didn’t quickly get the third out.

Took the racing scooter out for a ride. I didn’t blow through this stop sign because I was distracted by the view of the ocean – I do this to all of them.

Long before it was a total chick drink, our grandfathers pounded Moscow Mules when they returned from the war. I pounded this idiot mule at Village Idiot.