on my way to work an hour and 10mins ago, i saw a portly woman in a small helmet bouncing along on a small red motorbike. I thought for a second that this has to be a joke. this is straight out of ebaums world. shit like this doesn't happen in real life. it does though and i didn't even have a camera.
fail-sea brown
Friday, August 29, 2008
love in the time of chlamydia.
my mom thinks i have high standards.
in life, generally, but more specifically for my men. por ejemplo, we were just talking about Guy A who happened to manufacture some interest in me and I made some remark that he was a Philosophy major or something... and she said--i quote--"You really have no room to talk considering you're a Theatre major... in an agriculture and engineering school." Thank you, mother.
I, of course, respond to this to put her in her place. it's not that i am not smart or talented enough to do any other major, it's the fact that i chose to do theatre--not that it was the only thing i am eligible to do. Guy A didn't have a choice. He was an idiot. He wanted to go to a school with blonde, rich, food-deprived babymakers and the only way he could get in would be to take an obscure major. hence... philosophy.
I don't think I have high standards. I think i have... standards. Even sub-par standards. I don't want an idiot.
At my work there are a plethora of idiots. A cornucopia of morons. and most of the time these people are just over the phone. I've decided that it takes a real tool to screw up a 2 minute phone conversation. I guess that's what you get for being one of the only girls working in an electronic store. a normal day on the phone goes as follows:
me: welcome to ____, how can I help you?
boy: yeah, can you give me the electronics department?
me: (long pause)yes.
boy: is this the electronics department?
me: (shorter pause)yes.
boy: oh, good. would you guys return my xbox360?
me: What's wrong with it?
boy: Well, I took it apart and now it doesn't work.
me: (long pause again)no.
then i usually hang up.
(Another thing that is totally misleading about boys over the phone because GUARANTEED if a guy sounds like a babe on the phone, he is NOT cute in person. you try it. Guarantee.)
someone once said that you attract the kind of person that you are. besides using one of the most inane self-motivational quotes of all time, that person (who shall remain nameless) was also totally full of shit.
somehow, i always end up dating or nearly dating someone who is 1) unemployed, 2) not in school or 3) a wake-and-baker (and i don't mean of the foodnetwork kind). as you may or may not know, i don't fit into any of those categories. vegans, musicians, artists--listen up now. I eat meat. I like to listen to Rihanna. and chances are my art or knowledge of art is nothing short of unimpressive.
Last night was pretty sweet on Mary Murphy's Hot Tamale scale. I bum a cigarette from this psuedo cute boy and when i ask him for a light, he says, 'i don't have one. that's why i gave you one! what are you good for?' I, of course, see this as a challenge and decide I will not fail this unremarkable boy and go on my mission. after a few minutes, i find a light and present it to him. I am a gem, i tell him. he says--no, quotes--"you have such a luscious....assss." ha! that is the first time i ever gotten that compliment. to let you know, i do not have a luscious rump but the fact that someone thought so--well hot damn. that's great. he then also to lick his lips and mumble off some other great assets i have. we then decided we were done with this boy. but really, the highlight of my night is when I walked up the stairs to the bar and at the top step--a cute boy took my face in his hands kissed both cheeks then looked me in the eyes and said, "you are beautiful." i don't get many nights like this. and it's nights like this that makes me like boys again. so unpredictable and sweet and sleazy.
so whatever. in conclusion. i am not stuck up. i don't have high standards. i just want...a person with a few good lines. some... long-term plans. some wit. and a job.
really. it's not that hard.
chelsea 'big booty' brown
in life, generally, but more specifically for my men. por ejemplo, we were just talking about Guy A who happened to manufacture some interest in me and I made some remark that he was a Philosophy major or something... and she said--i quote--"You really have no room to talk considering you're a Theatre major... in an agriculture and engineering school." Thank you, mother.
I, of course, respond to this to put her in her place. it's not that i am not smart or talented enough to do any other major, it's the fact that i chose to do theatre--not that it was the only thing i am eligible to do. Guy A didn't have a choice. He was an idiot. He wanted to go to a school with blonde, rich, food-deprived babymakers and the only way he could get in would be to take an obscure major. hence... philosophy.
I don't think I have high standards. I think i have... standards. Even sub-par standards. I don't want an idiot.
At my work there are a plethora of idiots. A cornucopia of morons. and most of the time these people are just over the phone. I've decided that it takes a real tool to screw up a 2 minute phone conversation. I guess that's what you get for being one of the only girls working in an electronic store. a normal day on the phone goes as follows:
me: welcome to ____, how can I help you?
boy: yeah, can you give me the electronics department?
me: (long pause)yes.
boy: is this the electronics department?
me: (shorter pause)yes.
boy: oh, good. would you guys return my xbox360?
me: What's wrong with it?
boy: Well, I took it apart and now it doesn't work.
me: (long pause again)no.
then i usually hang up.
(Another thing that is totally misleading about boys over the phone because GUARANTEED if a guy sounds like a babe on the phone, he is NOT cute in person. you try it. Guarantee.)
someone once said that you attract the kind of person that you are. besides using one of the most inane self-motivational quotes of all time, that person (who shall remain nameless) was also totally full of shit.
somehow, i always end up dating or nearly dating someone who is 1) unemployed, 2) not in school or 3) a wake-and-baker (and i don't mean of the foodnetwork kind). as you may or may not know, i don't fit into any of those categories. vegans, musicians, artists--listen up now. I eat meat. I like to listen to Rihanna. and chances are my art or knowledge of art is nothing short of unimpressive.
Last night was pretty sweet on Mary Murphy's Hot Tamale scale. I bum a cigarette from this psuedo cute boy and when i ask him for a light, he says, 'i don't have one. that's why i gave you one! what are you good for?' I, of course, see this as a challenge and decide I will not fail this unremarkable boy and go on my mission. after a few minutes, i find a light and present it to him. I am a gem, i tell him. he says--no, quotes--"you have such a luscious....assss." ha! that is the first time i ever gotten that compliment. to let you know, i do not have a luscious rump but the fact that someone thought so--well hot damn. that's great. he then also to lick his lips and mumble off some other great assets i have. we then decided we were done with this boy. but really, the highlight of my night is when I walked up the stairs to the bar and at the top step--a cute boy took my face in his hands kissed both cheeks then looked me in the eyes and said, "you are beautiful." i don't get many nights like this. and it's nights like this that makes me like boys again. so unpredictable and sweet and sleazy.
so whatever. in conclusion. i am not stuck up. i don't have high standards. i just want...a person with a few good lines. some... long-term plans. some wit. and a job.
really. it's not that hard.
chelsea 'big booty' brown
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
invasion of the panty snatchers.
sunday afternoon errands lead to my mother and i doing some unnecessary shopping at the local ross. as i browse the cheap underwear department, i find this adorable pair of turquoise lacy booty shorts. i was extra stoked to see they were only 99 cents. So i take my little handful of panties, and head towards the dressing room to try on the few bras i picked out (on account of my petite boob size, my selection was rather dim). The dressing room attendant tells me for the sake of thievery (and for the sake i don't try them on) that she needs to hold the underwear up there. Being of the trusting kind, I comply.
after i'm done, I walk towards the dressing room attendant, bras in tow, so excited to see these absolutely sexy lacy booty shorts that I had--by chance--happened to stumble upon (side note: it really is a steal to find 99 cent underwear at ross that doesn't have any moth holes or skid marks). When i drop off the unneeded items to her, i notice that my adorable, cheap, what-a-steal underwear are...gasp...missing. I ask the attendant, "Excuse me, but...uhh.. where are my underwear? You know the cute ones? Only 99 cents. I'd left them with you and you said you would hold them for me forever and ever and for only me and now they are gone. WTF." You know what that bitch said. She said "I don't know, they must have been picked up for Go-backs. I'm really sorry maybe they were put back in the section (obligatory smile)" I hated her. In fact, I still hate her. She made me put my trust in her, and she blew it. I should have just stolen the underwear.
despite my ardor for the stupid piece of shit attendant, i still needed to find my panties. I didn't want to accept that my panties had simply been whisked off into the oblivion that is the cheap underwear department. No, someone had stolen this golden artifact. someone out there knew the value of those cute little lacy panties and I was going to find out who it was.
i start to make my way back over to the underwear section to try and find another pair--or, THE THIEF WHO TOOK THEM, when--lo! and behold! i see a woman holding the same pair i'd just, regrettably, left with that idiot attendant.
Me: "excuse me, but did you happen to find those over by the dressing room?"
Pantysnatcher: (cold, foreign) "no. i find them right here."
NO SHE DIDN'T. but...i give her the benefit of the doubt and i proceed to browse for another pair muttering under my breath, "man doesn't look like there's any more.. too bad people are rude and steal other peoples underwear." i give up and walk off. I am totally pissed.
i was legitimately excited about buying THAT SPECIFIC pair of underwear. I imagined it under pants I had, and dresses and like, wearing them to bed, as a surprise to my boyfriend--"look, new underwear! so exciting!". I get downstairs and try to look for a few more things I need. but i can't.
i can't get over the fact that this woman would steal my underwear, and then not even have the DECENCY to admit that she had stolen my wonderfully priced panties when i confronted her. so I did what any person would have done in an hour of desperation, i headed back up the stairs and was going to talk things out with this evil beast. she's still browsing with my chonies in hand. i abruptly look through the underwear beside her with undeniable adrenaline growing in my loins. finally it forces words out of my mouth.
Me - "are you sure you didn't find those at the dressing room?"
Panty Snatcher - (dirty look) "i find them right here."
Me - "well i went into the dressing room and when i came out they were gone. and there's not another pair, so why don't you just hand them over"
Panty Snatcher - "they not yours, i find them right here."
Me- "have you ever heard of human decency? you're seriously that rude of a person you can't just give them to me?"
Panty Snatcher - "they not yours"
Me - "ha. yes they are. i was intending to buy them, and you took them."
Panty Snatcher - "they not yours. i find them right here."
Me - "you're lying to me."
Panty Snatcher - "you have no proof!"
Me - (lying) "well i asked the women at the dressing room where they went and she said someone came by and took them."
guilt stricken, she continues looking through the underwear, with the intent to replace the pair she stole from me. after the 4th pair of XXXL grannie panties she attempts to sell me, i just laugh at her stupid attempts, and we continue the dispute. the only thing the bitch can say is, "i find them right here. they not yours."
by this point we are in close enough proximity, i make the executive decision to just take them out of her hand, like she took them out of my section in the dressing room. she shakes her head and says, "don't do that." and holds on tight. i continue to tell her how rude and indecent she is, and strengthen my grip on the panties, "You are a rude and indecent woman!" "for what? " she says to me. like I'm going to pay her or something for this fuckin pair of 99 cent underwear. at this point i really lose my shit. i just can't let her win. i laugh and say, "for human decency. you're a disgrace to the human race. look, you're married. you don't even need cute underwear."
in an attempt to ignore me, she squats down to look at the bottom row, and slightly looses her grip. i give a good yank, and unhook her last finger holding on to them. i storm off as she lets out a sigh of failure. i went straight to the checkout line, bought my shit, and got the hell out of there. my mom was happy to see i found another pair.
yes i am aware that a majority of the things that were said to that woman, would most definitely describe me, considering she did indeed find them where she said. but that was the risk i was willing to take. i apologize if i was in fact the one doing the panty snatching.
Jessie Snatching.
after i'm done, I walk towards the dressing room attendant, bras in tow, so excited to see these absolutely sexy lacy booty shorts that I had--by chance--happened to stumble upon (side note: it really is a steal to find 99 cent underwear at ross that doesn't have any moth holes or skid marks). When i drop off the unneeded items to her, i notice that my adorable, cheap, what-a-steal underwear are...gasp...missing. I ask the attendant, "Excuse me, but...uhh.. where are my underwear? You know the cute ones? Only 99 cents. I'd left them with you and you said you would hold them for me forever and ever and for only me and now they are gone. WTF." You know what that bitch said. She said "I don't know, they must have been picked up for Go-backs. I'm really sorry maybe they were put back in the section (obligatory smile)" I hated her. In fact, I still hate her. She made me put my trust in her, and she blew it. I should have just stolen the underwear.
despite my ardor for the stupid piece of shit attendant, i still needed to find my panties. I didn't want to accept that my panties had simply been whisked off into the oblivion that is the cheap underwear department. No, someone had stolen this golden artifact. someone out there knew the value of those cute little lacy panties and I was going to find out who it was.
i start to make my way back over to the underwear section to try and find another pair--or, THE THIEF WHO TOOK THEM, when--lo! and behold! i see a woman holding the same pair i'd just, regrettably, left with that idiot attendant.
Me: "excuse me, but did you happen to find those over by the dressing room?"
Pantysnatcher: (cold, foreign) "no. i find them right here."
NO SHE DIDN'T. but...i give her the benefit of the doubt and i proceed to browse for another pair muttering under my breath, "man doesn't look like there's any more.. too bad people are rude and steal other peoples underwear." i give up and walk off. I am totally pissed.
i was legitimately excited about buying THAT SPECIFIC pair of underwear. I imagined it under pants I had, and dresses and like, wearing them to bed, as a surprise to my boyfriend--"look, new underwear! so exciting!". I get downstairs and try to look for a few more things I need. but i can't.
i can't get over the fact that this woman would steal my underwear, and then not even have the DECENCY to admit that she had stolen my wonderfully priced panties when i confronted her. so I did what any person would have done in an hour of desperation, i headed back up the stairs and was going to talk things out with this evil beast. she's still browsing with my chonies in hand. i abruptly look through the underwear beside her with undeniable adrenaline growing in my loins. finally it forces words out of my mouth.
Me - "are you sure you didn't find those at the dressing room?"
Panty Snatcher - (dirty look) "i find them right here."
Me - "well i went into the dressing room and when i came out they were gone. and there's not another pair, so why don't you just hand them over"
Panty Snatcher - "they not yours, i find them right here."
Me- "have you ever heard of human decency? you're seriously that rude of a person you can't just give them to me?"
Panty Snatcher - "they not yours"
Me - "ha. yes they are. i was intending to buy them, and you took them."
Panty Snatcher - "they not yours. i find them right here."
Me - "you're lying to me."
Panty Snatcher - "you have no proof!"
Me - (lying) "well i asked the women at the dressing room where they went and she said someone came by and took them."
guilt stricken, she continues looking through the underwear, with the intent to replace the pair she stole from me. after the 4th pair of XXXL grannie panties she attempts to sell me, i just laugh at her stupid attempts, and we continue the dispute. the only thing the bitch can say is, "i find them right here. they not yours."
by this point we are in close enough proximity, i make the executive decision to just take them out of her hand, like she took them out of my section in the dressing room. she shakes her head and says, "don't do that." and holds on tight. i continue to tell her how rude and indecent she is, and strengthen my grip on the panties, "You are a rude and indecent woman!" "for what? " she says to me. like I'm going to pay her or something for this fuckin pair of 99 cent underwear. at this point i really lose my shit. i just can't let her win. i laugh and say, "for human decency. you're a disgrace to the human race. look, you're married. you don't even need cute underwear."
in an attempt to ignore me, she squats down to look at the bottom row, and slightly looses her grip. i give a good yank, and unhook her last finger holding on to them. i storm off as she lets out a sigh of failure. i went straight to the checkout line, bought my shit, and got the hell out of there. my mom was happy to see i found another pair.
yes i am aware that a majority of the things that were said to that woman, would most definitely describe me, considering she did indeed find them where she said. but that was the risk i was willing to take. i apologize if i was in fact the one doing the panty snatching.
Jessie Snatching.
it's just better if you swallow.
Back in high school, Jessie and I were cheerleaders (don't jump to conclusions just yet). But to tell you the truth, I don't regret it. In fact, if I weren't a cheerleader I wouldn't have acquired the amazing stories that I have now forever in emblazoned into my brain. For example, when Mena* said she shit her pants in seventh grade and then looked at all of us like we used to shit our pants until seventh grade too. Or when Mena said that when she was eight, she got her hamster wet and decided the quickest way to dry him was to put him in the microwave. Or the time when Mena didn't know what the "Bush-chen-AY" stickers were all about. Without cheer leading, I would not have met Mena and Mena, quite obviously, was a gem.
For the same reason I liked cheerleading, I have accepted the fact that I will perpetually endure awkward situations because I choose they make better stories.
Therefore this is bad for me, and good for you.
So this is mine (chelsea b) and jessie's homage to those awkward moments that everyday life serves up for us slash good stories we are able to have the honor to be involved in.
Enjoy.
chelsea chunga.
*because changing the names makes the work seem "mysterious". it's not though. If you ever have been around me, I have told you the girl's name and you probably know her or drank with her or got your hair done by her.
For the same reason I liked cheerleading, I have accepted the fact that I will perpetually endure awkward situations because I choose they make better stories.
Therefore this is bad for me, and good for you.
So this is mine (chelsea b) and jessie's homage to those awkward moments that everyday life serves up for us slash good stories we are able to have the honor to be involved in.
Enjoy.
chelsea chunga.
*because changing the names makes the work seem "mysterious". it's not though. If you ever have been around me, I have told you the girl's name and you probably know her or drank with her or got your hair done by her.
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