June 19, 2008

i must credit him for the strides i have made in my mouth-breathing skills; i no longer pant like a pervert

Posted in so much for my anonymity at 3:13 pm by squishy

I have complained about my coworker, he of the exquisitely offensive body odor, on multiple occasions.  His Stinkiness still reeks of damp armpits and overripe toejam, but now he’s taken to wearing wife beaters with very spacious armholes.  I can see his sideboobs.  And I can see his nipples through the body-hugging ribbed fabric.

I want to die.

Only 30 more business days until I quit.

May 29, 2008

wherein i shat my pants and run away screaming

Posted in so much for my anonymity at 10:18 am by squishy

I’m going on the assumption that everyone in the world has seen the Brendan Frasier character vehicle of a movie known as “The Mummy.” If you get TNT, I don’t know how you COULDN’T have seen it.

So you must remember, among other things: Rachel Weisz’s heaving bosom, lots of sand, and scarabs (those big black bugs).

I work on the fourth floor, and I usually take the elevator up and the stairs down. For safety precautions, the staircase is outside (newer science buildings have an indoor but segregated staircase, but this building, she is old). People take smoke breaks out there, and every now and then, a blackbird or four will hang out and incessantly caw like gossip queens.

Yesterday, I was going out for lunch when I found about 15 of these hugeass scaraby beetley bugs crawling around the exit. They were the size of walnuts. If I had the guts to step on one, it would’ve sounded like I had punched a bag of Doritos.

They were gross, and they crawled around pretty durn fast, but I figured psh, I could outrun a fucking bug. Little did I realize THEY COULD FLY. ONE FLEW INTO MY HAIR. IT GOT STUCK IN MY HAIR.

Good thing I wasn’t wearing a thong.

May 14, 2008

the bs has returned

Posted in so much for my anonymity at 9:53 am by squishy

I had too much fun hanging out with great friends from college and high school to be a cynical asshat. I therefore must allow the cynicism levels to reach a sufficient threshold before I post anything of much value.

I also gave notice (July 31st) today. My boss thought I was going to quit earlier, so he’s actually somewhat ecstatic that he can wring the last few drops of productivity out of me for the next 2+ months.

On a related note, I have 221.32 hours of sick time I can’t bring myself to use because I would feel too guilty.

May 5, 2008

only this time, it’s a SCHEDULED hiatus

Posted in so much for my anonymity at 11:27 pm by squishy

VACATION!

This trip will include flights with stopovers in Atlanta and Cincinnati. Did I mention that I love stopovers? (This is assuming that I am traveling alone and only have one flight change. Every opinion I have has stipulations, footnotes, and/or signing statements). I had to fly a lot when I was in college, because home = SoCal and school = New England. The worst trip can be outlined as such: the only bus I could take got me to Boston Logan Airport at 1am for a 5am flight… and then I had a 3 hour layover, plus an extra 1 hr snow delay in Minnesota. Luckily, that that wasn’t the trip in which my baggage was lost for 4 days.

For the most part, though, I genuinely enjoy wandering around airports, reading books/magazines, munching on saturated fat+complex carbohydrates and eavesdropping. I love eavesdropping. I try to plan my flights around layovers so I can kill an hour or so in Chicago (not Midway), Atlanta, or Minneapolis. But it’s only this enjoyable because I look forward to my destinations on both ends.

After all, a vacation is only a vacation if you have something/one to come home to.

So let out a “FUCK YES!” and a fistpump if you hear about a LAD win and/or an Arizona loss. I sadly won’t be able to watch most of the games for a week, although I will be visiting the decrepit yet geezer-charming Yankee Stadium before it gets torn down (I mean honestly, would people be so high on that ballpark if they didn’t know a new one was on its way?).

:mumble-w00t:

Photo: ICHC

March 14, 2008

to make up for my shitty college mascot

Posted in so much for my anonymity at 12:13 am by squishy

Seriously, what kind of school has a color for a mascot? I guess it beats the BANANA SLUG or whatever the hell the Western Kentucky red thingie is supposed to be.

Anyway, I’m going to graduate school at UCLA (the category this post is filed under is especially apt, non?). It was between that or the state school up north with the other ursine mascot, but location (and perhaps common sense) prevailed. To be perfectly honest, a certain baseball team also helped… the scales were long since tipped, though. Thanks to the wonderful Rana for being a makeshift career counselor.

I hope this doesn’t mean I have to start paying attention to college basketball. Or football… :goosebumps:

March 7, 2008

it’s drying out as we speak

Posted in so much for my anonymity at 9:55 am by squishy

Fuck, I dropped my cell phone in the john.

Shit, shit, shit SHIT shit SHIT.

The only silver lining is that the toilet was otherwise empty. Thank the porcelain gods.

UPDATE: IT LIVES!  But I’m investing in a bluetooth thingie… that damn phone isn’t coming anywhere near my face/mouth.

March 6, 2008

cue ‘chariots of fire.’ on ukuleles.

Posted in so much for my anonymity at 12:07 am by squishy

I’m going to start running (although that is a gross exaggeration of the lead-footed jogging + unsightly mouth breathing that’s actually going to happen). This may prove to be disastrous.

Perhaps I’m being a tad melodramatic/cynical (i.e. SQUISHTASTIC); I’m following coolrunning.com’s The Couch-to-5k plan (thanks Tina!) so maybe I won’t give up 3 days into it. For the past 3-4 years, I’ve been as active as a sponge on Vicodin, so my worries aren’t completely baseless. And I think people who ‘like’ to run are delusional and/or lying… (to each their own form of masochism, I guess. I personally prefer keyboard-cleaning and Adam Sandler movies).

I’m foolishly posting about this to hold myself accountable. Let’s see how long this lasts.

Photo: ICHC

PS: I have an unnatural affinity for parentheses. Sorry.
PPS: Fact – it’s impossible to be melancholy, let alone morose, on a ukulele. It’s been scientifically proven to be true.
PPPS: Is it ‘a ukulele’ or ‘an ukulele’? Oh, who the fuck cares.

January 31, 2008

this must qualify as a form of torture

Posted in so much for my anonymity at 10:11 am by squishy

There are fewer things more painful than a bad powerpoint presentation.

So if you absolutely want to slaughter your audience and put them in deep comas, here’s your guide.

– Be monochromatic.
– Graphics are for pussies. Blocks of text >> photos, graphs, charts and animation on the sexy scale.
– Cover a relatively dull topic and go into excessive detail.
– Write long paragraphs (in comic sans, perchance?). Bullet points are your enemy.
– Read, VERBATIM, aforementioned long paragraphs. Assume illiteracy, despite the fact that your audience is composed of Ph.D.s and Ph.D.’s-to-be.
– Exhibit no inflection in your voice whatsoever. Chronic mispronunciation, coupled with a Midwestern accent, also helps.
– If you have a laser pointer, flail it about and circle every other world.

If you need any more tips, I’m sure Stinker the Presentation Slayer can help you out.

Photo: ICHC, a register of every possible human emotion

January 30, 2008

maybe i should get an FSM decal

Posted in asshat!, so much for my anonymity at 12:58 am by squishy

One of my neighbors has a car with, I shit you not, the following shellacked on it:

– 2 ‘support the troops’ yellow ribbons. You know, the magnetic ones.
– 1 cloth flag wedged into the crack of the right passenger window. Think presidential limo flag, only stiffer and crappier.
– 1 peeling US flag bumper sticker. It’s the size of a BOOK (the ‘literary’ $15.99 kind, not of the cheap $5 pocket paperback variety), and actually doesn’t fit entirely on her bumper.
– 1 more US flag bumper sticker of the same size in case the peeling bumper sticker completely peels off. I believe she bought multiple just for this cause.

I’ve tried to take a photo, but I always worry I’ll seem like a terrorist or something. Is it of any consequence that her car is a good, American Ford sedan? Anyway, use your imagination, but believe you me when I say that it’s obnoxious.

What’s the point of excessive displays of patriotism? I’ve seen plenty of cars with the ‘support the troops’ ribbons. Great. But when that’s accompanied by multiple other ‘displays of patriotism,’ all that really says is that you’re ready and willing to 1. one-up any other ‘patriot’ and 2. deface your car with repetitive, cheap stickers that won’t come off cleanly when you need to resell it.

I hate what 9-11 has done. Aside from the thousands dead from the actual bombings, and the thousands dead from the subsequent invasions in the Middle East, people feel as though they are less American if they don’t wear it on their sleeve. Despite living in the US, you are only a true American if you have an outward symbol of it on your person/vehicle.

Patriotism has reached hysterical cultish heights, fueled by an administration where jingoism is not only an accepted but expected foreign policy.

Tangent I: Does Chevy’s “This is our country, this is our truck” commercials bother anyone else? It seems like such an obvious, almost pathetic attempt to appeal to the Amerigasmic, to those who believe buying an import is a form of treason. It’s the automobile equivalent of ham-handed attack ads, a true American revolution powered by a figment of Mitt Romney’s imagination (“of COURSE all those outsourced car factory jobs are coming back to Michigan!”).

Tangent II: Ford flew Toby Keith out to pimp their 2009 F-150 at this year’s Detroit Auto Show. And Jeep has a compact SUV called the Patriot. Yeesh. How we’ve trivialized patriotism.

Untangent: Anyway, cars don’t need flair. And if you have a desire to jazz your car up, at least diversify. People seem to have the unfortunate tendency to display their pet causes, political affiliations, child’s academic achievement or eccentric hobbies on their cars. I have seen Sunday school honor roll stickers (didn’t know Sunday schools had honor rolls, honestly), and a car with license plates reading HIPPOLVR, a hippo-themed license plate holder, and a fat hippo decal in the rear window next to the sun-bleached hippo plushie.

But my neighbor’s car takes the cake. Hands down. She’s a nice, blue-haired old granny, and her dogs sure are cute, but I want to piss on her car sometimes.

January 23, 2008

my soul! with a new and improved charcoal taste!

Posted in so much for my anonymity at 5:41 pm by squishy

RIP Mr. Heath Ledger.

So! Random story time!

I dated this boy, G, for 3 months. He was cute in a hapless Tobey Maguire meets Mr. Bean sort of way (he didn’t LOOK like Rowan Atkinson, unfortunately), and we enjoyed stupid movies and making fun of Karl Rove, Jessica Simpson and the Lakers. It was a low-key, more of a hanging-out on autopilot type of relationship than a relationship-relationship. We saw each other a few times a week and did absolutely nothing for hours. Which was great, since I wasn’t expecting anything more; I had no delusions that I was going to marry this fellow, and I was in no hurry to clarify our, um, status. Then one afternoon, G decided we needed to have a conversation he sincerely referred to as a “heart-to-heart” while actually motioning towards his own heart.

Let me clarify that I loathe, LOATHE hokey, Chicken Soup for the Clichéd Soul phrases (e.g. “all walks of life.” Sweet Jesus, I hate that). It’s an inexplicable pet peeve, much like my distaste for excessive facial hair.

Tangent: Then again, what pet peeve is explicable? They’re all very irrational if you try and analyze it. Why does the improper use of ‘irony’, or they’re-their-there bother me? It certainly doesn’t affect my person, nor does it impact my daily life in any way, but whenever I hear ‘nuke-ular’ (GAAHHHH!!) or see someone make inappropriate use of air-quotes (Britney on Matt Lauer, anyone?), I have to make a conscious effort to suppress my natural reflex to SMACK the guilty party upside the head. Am I alone? I sure hope not. More heads need to be smacked, post haste.

Untangent: I don’t remember much re: the content of that “heart-to-heart.” I was suffering from a mild PTSD; how could I have been such a poor judge of a person? HEART TO HEART?!?! It was like a very rough, very first draft of a Seinfeld episode, with less quirk but commensurate arbitrariness. I think I blamed some commitment issue/phobia and bailed, but in all honesty, his use of that phrase had a withering effect on my attraction to him (…more cumbersome phrasing goodness! You’re welcome).

I dumped someone for using a cliché. I am horrible, but much like Robert Novak, I embrace my horribleness.

Photo: ICHC, as always

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