Pick your baby up!

Dear Parents of all children 4 years old and younger,

When you are in a crowded area, particularly a stairwell, and you think it's cute to hold your toddler's hand and let your child who can barely lift its legs - move at a snails pace, blocking about 50 people behind you....well...I hate you. No. Really.

Pick your nugget baby up and carry that little creepshow out of the god damn way so I can catch my train/bus/not be late to work. That little tyke can practice walking up and down the stairs at home all it wants and not at the expense of my sanity at 8:34 in the morning.

Sincerely,

Degenerate Parent hater - not to be confused with babyhater.

Oh Chola

Dear Cholas,

Please explain to me who was the first to decide that shaving off your eyebrows and drawing them in with a pencil was a good idea?

But you didn't just stop there chola princess.

Oh no - you got crazy and decided that lining your lips with that same black pencil was a new amazing beauty technique.

Anyone who has the patience to outline their facial features in sharpie and then scrunch their hair with aquanet until it falls into perfect crunchy wet ringlets - well I have no choice but to respect you Chola.

Clearly you could knock me out with one punch of your brass knuckle name plate ring.

Oh and I know your powers chola. I know how you roll in chola gangs and you wear chola bandanas. Sometimes you get realllllly fancy and roll up in your hydrolic ride looking like this:

But i'm not scared of a fancy chola like this. If you think you are going to blind me with your cubic zircona belly jewel, and then claw me with your press on nails - you are wrong my friend.

Sincerely,

Me.

Nothing Beats SkyMall

The SkyMall catalog is A.M.A.Z.I.N.G.


It's just page after page of treasures.





"Hand-dipped in 24K gold, these roses last forever!"
$799.99


What's weird is that my Nana who is 85 years old owns these roses. Clearly, it delivers elegance in your home that is unmatched.


I hope my boyfriend skips on the diamond tennis bracelet and splurges on these babies for my birthday this year.











"High-performance running sandal"
$79.99




If you were thinking to yourself "there is nothing uglier than a pair of 1994 Granola Teva's" - well you were wrong my friend.


I can't wait to go to the gym with these bad boys. There are sure to create a jealousy frenzy when I am on the treadmill.







"Make every bedroom window an instant fire escape!"
$119.99


I actually used to have one of these that my dad forced me to keep by my bedroom window.


Ironically, I spent my highschool life using it to sneak out of the house.


Thanks for thinking about my safety dad.










"The Indoor Dog Restroom"
$149.95


Perfect. So instead of training my dog to go to the bathroom outside, I can instead scrub his smelly shit off of the fake grass pad and into my sink/tub.


Sounds awesome.









"The Pet's Observation Porthole"
$29.95


Also known as: Mock your pet.


A. how many times is this dog going to slam its face into the bubble because he think he can get through?


B. why would this dog want to watch people have fun on the other side of the fence when he can't go over there.


C. your neighbors might think this is sliiiightly creepy.











"Detox Foot Patches"
$39.99




"Precise formulation of natural ingredients in the patch has an amazing overnight ability to draw toxins right through your skin"


Basically, you wake up and what looks like
baby diarrhea is on the patch and apparently came out of your body. Sweet.

"T-Rex Dinosaur Trophy" Wall Sculpture
$89.99


I'm sure your wife would let you put this over the fireplace. No prob.

I bet it wont' even scare the shit out of kids.















"Embossed Denim Jackets"
$69.98


"Rugged, handsome button-front jackets featuring a perfectly-detailed regal guitar or bald eagle embossed across the back!"


The greatest treasure of them all. Enough said.

I Wanna Know Where the Gold At.

I am without a doubt, 100% Pro-Crack Use.


Screw Rehab - Let these crackheads hit the pipe in peace and provide us all with hours and hours of entertainment.

For instance:

Some of my favorite musicians are smokin the dope.

Without crackheads......there would be no mythical irish midgets climbing trees in Alabama:







#1. "it's a crackheaaaaad. A crackhead that got ahold of the wrong stuff"

#2 "This is a special Leprechaun flute passed down thousands of years ago from my great great grandfather who is irish"

#3 "I wanna know where the gold at"





Amazing. What's weird is that the leprechaun does not shock me. the only thing that shocks me is that that guy's great grandfather was actually Irish.






DOPE SICK LOVE


Speaking of Gold. Please watch this clip in its entirety because it is PURE GOLD.

CLICK HERE IMMEDIATELY



#1 Sweep the leg. No mercy.

#2 Nothing stings more than a Mcdonalds #1 Supersized getting thrown at you.

#3 Is it just me or is the name "Sebastian" amazing in this clip.

Dear Crackhead,

You are a bucket of sunshine. Thank you for shooting me that toothless crazy grin from across the street. I'm sorry I don't speak "Crackhead" but something tells me that as you arch your back and stick out your bloated belly you're somehow communicating to me that we're friends.

I love you crackhead. Thanks for the laughs and for the good times.

Love,

Midge

Tall Guys who date Short Broads.

I am a midget. I am a midget who very proudly dates and is currently dating a very tall man. Yes, sometimes its slightly creepy when people mistake me for his daughter. But there are some really sweet perks - like him carrying me around in his pocket.

I recently came across this hater blog online:

Dear Tall Guys Who Appear To Only Date Girls Who Are Very Short,

I alluded to your type before. I know you’re out there. I’ve seen you around. You’re 6′4″ and your girlfriend is 5′2″. She comes up to about your wrist.
And it makes me fucking crazy. Not only do I seethe with jealousy because you’re soooo in love, but I am filled with rage to see the height differential. Again. Again!
I realize that you can’t just like, custom-order the perfect person. Alright, you sort of can with like a mail-order bride and shit, but still. Unless you’re taking Russian classes Saturday mornings at your local community college, how good of a match was it, really? Anyway, sometimes you can just fall in love, regardless of height considerations. I can understand that. But I am unable to do it. Height is my critical must-have requirement. Everything else is reasonably more negotiable.
I would ask though, to consider the tall girls before making your final decision. My beef isn’t with your girlfriend, it’s with you. You know, there are plenty of us to choose from. A lot of us are sick of wearing flats and kicking off our shoes to take pictures with our current boyfriends because we look silly to tower over them. Not all of us play for the WNBA, you know. I’m like 5′10″ barefoot, so how the fuck am I supposed to look like a lady next to a dude who is 5′7″?
What about being able to reach things, huh? Putting up curtains? You can actually get help from a tall girl. Hey, can your stupid 5′2″ girlfriend get to the cabinet over the fridge? I bet not. I bet she has to get a chair. And then she’s got to get you to get the cake pans, because she still can’t reach, right?
I hope you’re happy reaching for the cake pans, buddy. Me and the tall girls are going to put up some motherfucking curtains without you.

My response:

Dear Amazon Lady,

Cry me a river of tears gypsy. My tall boyfriend does not want to hang out with your beastly self. You don't look like a lady. Ever.

And putting up curtains? The only curtains you should be concerned about are your roast beef ones. Because You. Are. Terrible.

And yes McGiant, I do have to get a chair to reach the tall cabinet but at least my boyfriend and I don't share the same shoe size and I can't beat him in an arm wrestling match. Oh and P.S. Who even fucking bakes and needs cake pans anyway?

Cubicle Work Space Offenders

Your home away from home: The Cubicle.



Many of us like to personalize our workspace with our favorite pictures or collectibles. Making the work day go by quicker or maybe to even impress our fellow colleagues.


Here are a few cubicle offenders that you will find in every office.






The Dorm Room Transplant:

The Offender: Recent College graduate

The Evidence: Posters of said offender's favorite bands, celebrities, or athletes. Collages of their friends doing body shots during Spring Break, drinking green beer on st. Patty's day, 80's Party best costume winners, and slutty nurse/firefighter/police officer Halloween pictures.

Star Wars Groupie:

The Offender: Star Wars Convention Member

The Evidence: Besides the 787 pieces of Star Wars memorabilia on said offenders desk? The fact that he has two 8x10's of his "girlfriend" on his desk.

Oh except for the fact that you saw the same stock photos that come with the frame at Wal-mart last week.

The "I'm proud of my kid/nephew/niece/friends kid" Person:

Offender #1: The mom who can't get enough of little Johnny's airplane drawings or little Susie's flowers.

The Evidence: Crap drawings where those little bastards color outside of the lines over and over and over again. Also - creepy school photos that have a cloud or neon "halo" colored background.

Offender #2: The lonely lady who hangs up pictures that other kids (niece/nephew/godchild) draw.

Evidence: She accompanies her child drawings with the following:


- thank you cards she's received (people are thankful for her)


- breast cancer/aids/heart disease ribbons and magnets (she has a good heart and volunteers)


- "art postcards" that she really got for free while standing in line for a bar bathroom (she's artistic)


-Calendar with "plans" (she's busy but not busy enough that she can't wipe her calendar clean if she gets asked to hang out)




The Organized Clutter Lady:


The Offender: A Lady who should clearly be retiring but likes to "keep busy". Hasn't cleaned her desk since World War II.



The Evidence: Mounds of papers, Original typewriter, post-its, dirty coffee mugs, empty prescription bottles, poppy pins, and tons of ketchup of packets (you shouldn't waste). She claims she is more organized than you and knows exactly where everything is.








The Holiday Cheer Worker:




The Offender: Ho. Ho. Ho.



Evidence: Said Offender wears sweaters with bells and/or flashing lights that play "dashing through the snow" 30 times a day. Lunch hours are spent making glitter stockings for each employee. Christmas music begins playing the day after Thanksgiving and goes until New Years. Insists on everyone bringing potluck to the Christmas party and participating in Secret Santa.






The Collector:

The Offender: Obsessive Compulsive. No children or pets.

The Evidence: Excessive number of beanie babies, bobble heads, pins, figurines, or magnets molesting your desk. Said Offender had to request a floor to ceiling filing cabinet to actually hold their office supplies and files. There is no more room on the desk.

"Falling Down" Crazy:

The Offender: Personality similiar to Michael Douglas in Falling Down

The Evidence: Oozi, chainsaw, duck tape, short sleeve button down with tie.

Babies.

Sometimes babies are cute. Cute enough that I would like to eat them.


But most of the time........I find babies and the people that care for them creepy and terrible.




Baby Gremlin*, I mean Bjorn.

Case 1:

The baby is facing outward like it is an alien bursting from this man's chest. Seriously. Is the baby so heavy that you can't just carry it around with your arms?

Case 2:

The baby is facing inward and the little tykes face is pressed up against your body. No big deal. You're just suffocating it to death and his limbs are going limp. Stop wearing the child around like it's your scarf of the day.

Babies on Leashes:

Oh the irony. A baby's leash attached to a dog back-pack. Stop mocking this child with your evil contraption. Are you really not fast enough to catch this midget mobile if it takes off running?

Birthing Multiple Mutants:

Holy Bajesus.

This is just wrong. All sorts of wrong.

With so many of them in there..they are bound to be born looking like alien rat babies that cry. and cry. and cry.

Please. I beg you and your sagging 3 ft of stretched skin belly to please use a condom or draino before this happens to you.

Babies in a Bar:

Okay fine. I'm not going to lie. If I decide to birth a munchkin - I'll probably be guilty of this so called faux-pas.



Drinking in a social setting while your little ball of responsibility naps sounds pretty good to me.



However, I draw the line when it comes to lighting shots of 151 on fire and taking it with no hands. At that point, and at that point only - your child may be in danger.







Dad of the Year:


In so many eyes he is a hero. I mean. Who wouldn't think this was a.) extremly talented and b.) a sure way to guarantee your wife never gets pregnant again.











*Special Thanks to LC for bringing that topic up.

American Apparel

Don't get me wrong. I shop american apparel for your basics just like anyone else. But after perusing the website today I came across the following items and just wanted to throw in my two cents.

The Mary Lou Retton

There is absolutley no reason you should be wearing this body suit unless you can do a triple axel double flip somersault split on a balance beam.

The FUPA pants

There is no reason a girl this skinny should have a fupa in a pair of high waisted bright blue skinny jeans. I would rather have acid thrown into my eyes than watch a woman of generous porportions wear these.

The "Scrimmage" Shirt

This shirt is called the Scrimmage Shirt. Clearly if this individual wore this shirt to oh lets just say a Football game - something tells me Johnny Macho is going to tackle him until his cropped shirt is suffocating his gay face.

The Fanny

Let's just say my mom goes into american apparel and picks this puppy up as a treat to herself. Suddenly the AA fanny is not so hipster and not so cool when Mama Sue is rockin this thing over her floor length denim dress with flower applique.

The AC Hooker

I bet a girl, a really elegant girl, named Cherry, owns these outfits and is keeping American Apparel Stocked with them. She's the classiest and luckiest girl in Atlantic City.

The "You can see my Vagina"


Honestly I don't know a time when I don't want to spend the day with people seeing my pepperoni nips and roast beef vajay through my outfit.

The L Train is the Hell Train

Oh L Train you're the best. And by best I actually mean the worst. The. Worst. Ever.

This is your story.

Waiting for the Train

The L Train is special because it has this great little "time board" that informs you when the next train is scheduled to arrive.

The problem is....Either it doesn't work, there are 5 million people sardined on the train and you can't get on anyway or it actually (yes actually) gives you this information:



Please explain to me why I can go to Long Island faster than going from Union Square to 1st Ave.











And the weekends? Good Lawddd. Usually there is yellow police tape covering the entrance. Your first thought is - "A Crime has occurred". Well, my friend, a crime has occurred. A crime of transportation retardation.

The People

Where do I begin. Every time this GD train comes the train is packed. So packed in fact, that 99% of time you cannot get on.

But if you are one of the lucky ones that is small enough or strong enough to push your way in - you are faced with the following situations:

Smelly mexi's who don't believe in soap. Dirty creepsters who rub their peen against your leg. Crazy Chola princesses who refuse to move their arm so you can hold onto the pole. Oh and the Hipster. Where do I begin with the Hipster?



Dear Hipster,
Please stop judging me on the 8:30am train when I am in my corporate wear on my way to work. Yes, I work 9 to 5. Yes, I am mainstream. Yes, I am wearing J Crew. Deal with it.

Dear Hipster,
Please stop taunting me with your ironic t-shirt. And no, you do not need to wear a scarf and tight skinny jeans when it is 93 degrees outside. Let your pasty legs breathe and put on some shorts. But not the 70's runner shorts with tall white socks with stripes straight from American Apparel. Put on something that I cannot see your sausage and meatballs in.

Dear Hipster,
Please do not shove your guitar/bag of books/Paint brushes in my head when boarding the train. You suck.

Thank you,
Midge

Wedding Websites

So, my friend calls me the other day and tells me to go to a mutual friends "wedding website". Ummmm yeah..... you guessed it, it was a website that they dedicated to themselves and their wedding.

Clearly there is nothing better going on in my life than to read about the following subjects:
"How we met"
"The Ring"
"The Proposal"
"Everybody and their mother who is in the wedding"
"The Church"
"The Reception"

and Lucky me..along with every detailed paragraph describing their love for one another...there are pictures...lots of GD pictures.

I'm pretty sure anyone looking at this website a.) knows who you are and has heard the sappy wedding torture for the last 8 months and b.) does not need to look at 75 of the same picture with different backgrounds.

Oh. We get it.

After my retinas burning from the sicko love and happiness glowing off of my computer screen, I had a change of heart and realized that someday I could potentially have a Wedding Website of my own.

Clearly it would look more like this:

"How We Met"


"The Ring"


"The Proposal"


"The Wedding Party"


"The Reception"



Oh and I'll be registered at Gucci. See ya then bitches!