So Fresh and so Clean, Clean!
Ok. Ground control to Major Tom. Kids...we had a problem.
I could not, for the life of me, get my dashboard to work over at the old website, so i'm starting a new one, because it's been far too long since i've been able to write and I've had quite a bit to write about...
So continued from HERE ...
"Here I go again on my own..."
This weekend was fun.
I finished up an article on Tuscany for the Eurotravel deal and headed down to Ft. Collins to chill with my best girl... we ended up at King Soopers around 12:30am trying on low-budget halloween costumes, whilst taking pictures with the nearest one-time-use camera. Those should be hilarious photos, and will be posted upon development.
I came back (just in time for five o'clock traffic) to shower and head downtown for some Illegal Pete's. Mmm... Good. Except that... during the Snow Patrol concert I attended immeadiately following, I got the worst stomache ache and couldn't fully enjoy the concert (no jumping up and down... sad). But Eisley and the patrol of white powder were both equally awesome. I love $12 concerts at the Blue Bird.
Rich (my stepdad) and Brandon (step bro) are in town this weekend, so it's been sports-mania the entire time.
Rich is an amazing photographer... and luckily, his hobby has turned into a part-time job. He currently shoots for baseball and football playing cards, as well as sports magazines. Last December, his photo of Priest Holms covered the Sports Illustrated for Kids front. Yae!
While he was down in the photo pit, Brandon and I camped out in the first-row behind the first base line (and the Rockies dugout) and cheered for the Cardinals. We also were swarmed at the end of every inning by a busload of children diving across the aisles for a chance to snag a baseball. Which brings me to another story...
This man and his three children sat directly behind us. So annoying. Michael and the other son, who's was totally unmentioned, were scolded and told repeatedly they were going to be "kicked out of the park and put in time out" while his eldest son Steven got mad praise and encouragement to get a ball (most likely for his dad). When he failed to do so, the man would say:
"Man! Come on, Steve-O! You gotta be meaner and more tough! If I were up there, I would have gotten three balls by now!"
Uh... right...
"Are you ready for the Perfect Peanut, Steven?!"
Uhh...yeah dad. I'm not scared at all...
And... who asks their four-year-old son why the Cubs gave up four runs in the 9th inning. Dude... leave the kid alone.
Furthermore... Boston beat Yankees by like, 12 points today --- something like that. I know it was your birthday and all, Jonny boy, but...Ha, HA!
I checked out another Cards/Rockies game today as well (I now have a mini-crush on Jorge Piedra) and sat out at ESPNzone for four hours watching the Raider/Bucs game. Fun times. I think i've filled my sports quota for the next month...
Meanwhile, my life is stable... but the people around me not so much. I've been really sick lately supressing all their stress for them. Lame... I hate that I do that. If anyone knows a good massage therapist in Denver, hit me up --- just to chat, this is Sam...
(On a Side Note)
I've been reading a new book that I saw on (don't kill me)... OPRAH! It's hilarious and written by a writer and a consultant of Sex and the City (comedian Greg Behrendt and Liz Tuccillo).
First:
He Says:
Oh Sure, they say they're busy. They say that they didn't have even a moment in their insanely busy day to pick up the phone. It was just that crazy. All lies. With the advent of cell phones and speed dialing, it is almost impossible not to call you. Sometimes, I call people from my pants pocket when I don't even mean to. If I were into you, you would be the bright spot in my horribly busy day. Which would be a day that I would never be too busy to call you.
She Says:
I don't know why, but I've dated a lot of alcoholics. Or, as I would have probably said at the time, "guys who like to drink a lot." I really don't know why. There isn't alcoholism anywhere in my family. I'm not a big drinker myself. I think I just always thought they were fun. I loved when my boyfriend climbed the water tower at my friend's roof part wedding while he was bombed out of his mind and exposed himself to everyone. I thought it was hilarious. And when that guy, drunk, lit a pack of firecrackers in his kitchen just to make me laugh? Well, that was adorable. I found it particularly amusing when my boyfriend disappeared for a week and, after a lot of calling, I found out he moved back in with his ex-girlfriend.
Perhaps this is just my pathetic little "self-help" book of the year, but it makes some good points, while making you laugh; sort of like "Feel this Book" by Garafalo and Stiller.
Second:
This is my most, most, most, most, MOST favorite, "I'm-bitter-about-the-end-of-my- relationship" book in the entire world. I loaned it out to a girlfriend two years ago and I have yet to get it back, Which is O.K., because you can purchase it on Amazon for about $2. SOOO funny.
The Aries Bastard
March 21-April 20
Once upon a time, in the Dark Ages, there was this quaint little term known as a man's man. Nobody knew quite what it meant. Except the poor unfortunate thing who was the man's man's woman -- and she died a horrible death when she willfully stuck her head in the oven unto which she was chained.
Then come more enlightened times and in minces the sensitive New Age Feeling Fellow. All of a sudden, a man's man surely must mean a gentleman of the pink persuasion and, gee, don't those scented candles look too, too, utterly utterly?
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, deep in the woods, a solitary male is yelling at the top of his lungs, beating a tom-tom and sticking pins into a blow-up doll that looks a lot like Gloria Steinem. This sad, lost soul is the Aries guy. Bewildered by beauty myths, dumbfounded by day-care centers, and completely baffled by consensual sex, he holds on to his masculinity as tightly as he holds on to his manhood (which is throbbing, if you must know). Boy, does he yearn for the times when men were men and women were grateful.
Being the only man's man left in existence, it's lonely for him at the bottom of the food chain -- even the amoebas, given the chance, opt to mate with themselves.
And thank bloody Christ for that.
Really, no offense to you boys out there... it's just a humorous way to laugh off heart break :)
p.s. Happy 51st Wedding Anniversary to my Grandparents :0)
I could not, for the life of me, get my dashboard to work over at the old website, so i'm starting a new one, because it's been far too long since i've been able to write and I've had quite a bit to write about...
So continued from HERE ...
"Here I go again on my own..."
This weekend was fun.
I finished up an article on Tuscany for the Eurotravel deal and headed down to Ft. Collins to chill with my best girl... we ended up at King Soopers around 12:30am trying on low-budget halloween costumes, whilst taking pictures with the nearest one-time-use camera. Those should be hilarious photos, and will be posted upon development.
I came back (just in time for five o'clock traffic) to shower and head downtown for some Illegal Pete's. Mmm... Good. Except that... during the Snow Patrol concert I attended immeadiately following, I got the worst stomache ache and couldn't fully enjoy the concert (no jumping up and down... sad). But Eisley and the patrol of white powder were both equally awesome. I love $12 concerts at the Blue Bird.
Rich (my stepdad) and Brandon (step bro) are in town this weekend, so it's been sports-mania the entire time.
Rich is an amazing photographer... and luckily, his hobby has turned into a part-time job. He currently shoots for baseball and football playing cards, as well as sports magazines. Last December, his photo of Priest Holms covered the Sports Illustrated for Kids front. Yae!
While he was down in the photo pit, Brandon and I camped out in the first-row behind the first base line (and the Rockies dugout) and cheered for the Cardinals. We also were swarmed at the end of every inning by a busload of children diving across the aisles for a chance to snag a baseball. Which brings me to another story...
This man and his three children sat directly behind us. So annoying. Michael and the other son, who's was totally unmentioned, were scolded and told repeatedly they were going to be "kicked out of the park and put in time out" while his eldest son Steven got mad praise and encouragement to get a ball (most likely for his dad). When he failed to do so, the man would say:
"Man! Come on, Steve-O! You gotta be meaner and more tough! If I were up there, I would have gotten three balls by now!"
Uh... right...
"Are you ready for the Perfect Peanut, Steven?!"
Uhh...yeah dad. I'm not scared at all...
And... who asks their four-year-old son why the Cubs gave up four runs in the 9th inning. Dude... leave the kid alone.
Furthermore... Boston beat Yankees by like, 12 points today --- something like that. I know it was your birthday and all, Jonny boy, but...Ha, HA!
I checked out another Cards/Rockies game today as well (I now have a mini-crush on Jorge Piedra) and sat out at ESPNzone for four hours watching the Raider/Bucs game. Fun times. I think i've filled my sports quota for the next month...
Meanwhile, my life is stable... but the people around me not so much. I've been really sick lately supressing all their stress for them. Lame... I hate that I do that. If anyone knows a good massage therapist in Denver, hit me up --- just to chat, this is Sam...
(On a Side Note)
I've been reading a new book that I saw on (don't kill me)... OPRAH! It's hilarious and written by a writer and a consultant of Sex and the City (comedian Greg Behrendt and Liz Tuccillo).
First:
He Says:
Oh Sure, they say they're busy. They say that they didn't have even a moment in their insanely busy day to pick up the phone. It was just that crazy. All lies. With the advent of cell phones and speed dialing, it is almost impossible not to call you. Sometimes, I call people from my pants pocket when I don't even mean to. If I were into you, you would be the bright spot in my horribly busy day. Which would be a day that I would never be too busy to call you.
She Says:
I don't know why, but I've dated a lot of alcoholics. Or, as I would have probably said at the time, "guys who like to drink a lot." I really don't know why. There isn't alcoholism anywhere in my family. I'm not a big drinker myself. I think I just always thought they were fun. I loved when my boyfriend climbed the water tower at my friend's roof part wedding while he was bombed out of his mind and exposed himself to everyone. I thought it was hilarious. And when that guy, drunk, lit a pack of firecrackers in his kitchen just to make me laugh? Well, that was adorable. I found it particularly amusing when my boyfriend disappeared for a week and, after a lot of calling, I found out he moved back in with his ex-girlfriend.
Perhaps this is just my pathetic little "self-help" book of the year, but it makes some good points, while making you laugh; sort of like "Feel this Book" by Garafalo and Stiller.
Second:
This is my most, most, most, most, MOST favorite, "I'm-bitter-about-the-end-of-my- relationship" book in the entire world. I loaned it out to a girlfriend two years ago and I have yet to get it back, Which is O.K., because you can purchase it on Amazon for about $2. SOOO funny.
The Aries Bastard
March 21-April 20
Once upon a time, in the Dark Ages, there was this quaint little term known as a man's man. Nobody knew quite what it meant. Except the poor unfortunate thing who was the man's man's woman -- and she died a horrible death when she willfully stuck her head in the oven unto which she was chained.
Then come more enlightened times and in minces the sensitive New Age Feeling Fellow. All of a sudden, a man's man surely must mean a gentleman of the pink persuasion and, gee, don't those scented candles look too, too, utterly utterly?
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, deep in the woods, a solitary male is yelling at the top of his lungs, beating a tom-tom and sticking pins into a blow-up doll that looks a lot like Gloria Steinem. This sad, lost soul is the Aries guy. Bewildered by beauty myths, dumbfounded by day-care centers, and completely baffled by consensual sex, he holds on to his masculinity as tightly as he holds on to his manhood (which is throbbing, if you must know). Boy, does he yearn for the times when men were men and women were grateful.
Being the only man's man left in existence, it's lonely for him at the bottom of the food chain -- even the amoebas, given the chance, opt to mate with themselves.
And thank bloody Christ for that.
Really, no offense to you boys out there... it's just a humorous way to laugh off heart break :)
p.s. Happy 51st Wedding Anniversary to my Grandparents :0)
posted by Sami Jo at
2:02 AM
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