Archive for August, 2009

Thank God it’s Monday!

Oh hey, there Monday.  What’s shaking?  You know what I love about you?  That you don’t give a fuck what anyone else thinks. You’re all, “Suck it bitches. I hate you, too”. You’re a bad ass and that’s to be applauded.    

If you were an 80’s band you would totally be The Cure-all sad and introspective and “Oh woe is me”.  I like The Cure and I like you, too.  You’re looking good today, Monday.  Nice and rainy and overcast.  Gothic Sexy!   I’m wearing all black and extra eye liner just for you today. 

Omg, Monday-thank you by the way.  It was so cool to get to work and see that T Saur was already here! No, really. That hasn’t happened yet since I get to work at seven thirty (ish) and he doesn’t come in until 8:30-but what a great way to start off my work week. He already had his bag of Cheetos that he will manage to munch on for the next two hours which will also exacerbate his throat clearing.  Cool beans!    

I’m sure you haven’t forgotten about awkward Monday morning chit chat!  Quite possibly this is the highlight of my work week. My manager comes around and asks everyone how their weekend was and judges their responses accordingly. I get nervous and over share while she silently questions her hiring choices. “I got hammered on Saturday night! But at least I didn’t drive, right?!. Ha!” 

I’m already looking forward to later today when I go to the gym and grocery store-they’ll be super crowded and annoying.  I love fitnessing within a foot someone else with excessive perspiration issues.  I also heart having to excuse myself thirty five times while buying my three food items for the week.

Alright, Monday. I better run. It looks like you scheduled some sweet nine o’clock meeting for me to attend so I better internet right quick prepare!  Talk to you soon!

Top 5 Hangover Perks

Yeah, this may sound like I’ve lost my mind, but bear with me.  Or judge me mercilessly for the stupidity of this post to which I will say, what did you expect?  I’m hungover.

1. A morning eye-opener.  If you are not an experienced binge-drinker, you may be thinking of an eye-opener as a steaming shower or a hot cup of Joe.  While these are good practices in general, I’m talking about a hair-of-the-dog-that-bit you eye-opener.  What’s your poison?  Beers?  Vodka?  Have a little bit of whatever you had the night before and you will be right as rain.  Or just go with a Bloody Mary right away.  Kettle OneLycopene is a hell of an anti-oxidant. 

2.  A Greasy Breakfast.  Richmond has a plethora of options for the perfect hangover breakfast – Joe’s Inn, Starlight, Millie’s (omg yum), but you are likely on your way to work during most of your hangovers.  Therefore, I recommend my favorite breakfast sandwich of all-time:  a chicken, egg and cheese biscuit from Chik-fil-A.  It’s not on the menu.  You have to request this precious golden combo.  It brings a tear to my eye it’s so good.

3. Bold fashion statements.  When hungover, it’s easy to forget that you are a professional and that you should look the part.  If you’re like me, you will put on the most random assortment of clothes possible and convince yourself that you should dress this way more often.  Yesterday I was channeling Jackie-O.  Today I am Phoebe from Friends.  It’s probably not my best look, but I’m too hungover to care.  I’m patting myself on the back for remembering to use conditioner in my hair.  Just a few minutes ago I saw a guy from IT wearing pin-striped suit pants , a polo shirt and his Hokies visor.  We exchanged a fist-bump.

4. Caffeine.  A stimulant will do very strange things to your fragile, weakened body.  When hungover, I like to have as many caffeinated drinks as I did cocktails the night before.  When the caffeine kicks in, I will shake and sweat in uncomfortable places.  I’ll talk too fast and laugh inappropriately, in short barks much like a hyena.  In short, I’m really annoying.  It makes the all the crazy peeps downtown steer clear of me.  I can walk around in peace.  If you work in the city you understand how rare and pleasant this can be.

5. _________________ Fill in the blank.  Another perk?  Apathy.  You finish this list.  Yawn.  I’m going to go stare at my cube wall for awhile.

I think I’m in love

Will you be my Valentine?

Will you be my Valentine?

Dear J Crew Stretch twill Minnie pant,

I know it’s only our first date, but I think you’re very special.  When first we met on the sale rack, I sincerely doubted that you were my type.  You are long and skinny and I am short and solidly medium.   I never thought it would work out between us.  But when I took you into the dressing room my heart was beating wildly.  Your two-way stretch fabric is flattering, indeed!

I bought you at once and shoved you into my closet were you hung, waiting patiently, for many weeks.  You must have grown weary wondering when I would free you from those cumbersome tags.   I did not forget you; I was too shy to ask you out.  I grew doubtful of your 27-inch inseam, and blamed a trick mirror for my purchase.

I finally gathered my courage today to free you from the closet.  I must admit, it was a decision made only because I had no time to iron anything at 8:27 am this morning.  Your wrinkle-free fabric was exactly what I needed to be on time for my first meeting today.

And here we are.  You are sitting just below my hips and just above my ankles.  Your retro fit gives me Bettie Davis ankles!  You get me like no one else has in quite some time.  You laugh at my jokes, and make me feel oh so pretty.  I’ve never felt this statuesque and skinny before!  You’ve even complimented my giant bag, which I find so endearing.

I hope we will be seeing a lot more of each other in the coming months.  I can’t wait to introduce you to my jean jacket and ballet flats…

xoxo,

Barista

Top 5 Tips to Surviving Your First Semester at VCU!

Welcome back Students!

Welcome back Students!

Where has the summer gone? It seems like just yesterday I praising the Baby Jesus for the Spring Semester to be donezo for VCU.  Before I know it the Fall Semester is upon us and those crazy kids return like a plague of locusts to entertain and delight me as I drive to and fro work on the daily. 

You can spot the freshmen pretty easily. First of all they appear to be about 12 years old. Secondly, they’re scared shitless. Being a freshman is hard! You don’t know where to score the decent drugs or where you can buy your underage brewskies.  I can’t help them with any of that craziness, but I can help them with equally important tips and tricks to surviving their first semester of college.

1-Hang out at Monroe Park at night!  Sometimes you can’t find anything to do at night and you get bored and antsy.  If you find yourself alone and it’s after nightfall, may I suggest a stroll around scenic Monroe Park?  It’s totally safe and quite lovely this time of year.  The hypodermic needles and crack pipes just glisten under the late summer Moon!  Cash is King so free to carry any valuables with you as well. 

2-Park anywhere you want!  Or rather, don’t park anywhere at all!  You read that right-just don’t bother parking!  Ever!  Need to pick up a friend right quick? Drop off a term paper but just don’t want to deal with parking your car?  No parking, no problem! Just stop your car in the middle of the road and put on your hazards! Trust me; no one will mind that you’ve backed up traffic for five city blocks!  The best time to do this is preferably around 5:15 when all the “grown ups” are getting off of work and are trying to just get the hell home to chill the fuck out fortheloveofgod.

3-Disgregard all street signs and traffic lights as they don’t apply to you!  You know how you learned in school that the red hand meant “Don’t Walk” and the white dude meant “Walk”?  Well scrap that because those rules no longer apply to you! Is there traffic headed your way but you need to cross the street?  No worries! Just get you and fifty of your closest buddies to just walk out in the middle of the road into oncoming traffic. The cars can’t hit all of y’all right? 

4-Join a Greek Organization!  Meeting new people can be hard and sometimes people like to pay for their friends. If that’s the case then I suggest joining a sorority or fraternity. Greek life is huge at VCU and only the coolest of the cool get in.  I know what you’re thinking, “I thought VCU was a bunch of Lil Baby Hipsters/foreign exchange students/weirdos from Northern Virginia?”  Wrong!  The cool kids are totally rushing-and so should you!

5-Smile!  Rams are a notoriously friendly bunch so it’s important to smile and say “hi” to random strangers at much as possible.  A lot of times it may seem that they’re trying to block you out by text messaging while walking, listening to their iPod or hiding under that hoodie but underneath is really a friend you have yet to make!  Go up to the next person you see and give them a great big ole hug. Trust me-you’ll be glad you did!

Andy Jenks-friend or foe?

Andy Jenks is up to no good

So Robin Starr’s dog died because she left it in her car.  That is sad, no doubt about it.  The dog was 16.  Is it possible that she did not know her dog was in the car?  Of course.  Another way to think of this incident is this: would the woman, who transformed the Richmond SPCA in to one of the most successful no-kill shelters in the country, intentionally leave her pet locked in her car for four hours?  No.

Today’s Richmond Times Dispatch features a brief article outlining the known facts, and asks readers to look for more coverage including an interview with Starr in tomorrow’s paper.

Andy Jenks elaborates on the story on the NBC 12 website and first mentions how outspoken Starr was against Michael Vick.  Then he copies some information readily available on Starr’s bio about how she put forth her vision of making the Richmond SPCA a no-kill shelter.  Her accomplishments were secondary to her criticism of Michael Vick.

So why mention her condemnation of Michael Vick?  What was the motivation for that reminder?  Was it to get the reader to pause…think on it…and draw the conclusion that Starr may be a hypocrite?  Is he suggesting that this accident is similar to electrocuting and drowning dogs who don’t make enough money in dog fights?   

I’m not sure if there is enough unintentionally hilarious local-crime fighting reporting from Andy Jenks to win back this viewer.

***Update:  Jenks latest post includes a line on how Starr was also critical of a man who starved 11 dogs, all before mentioning her achievements.  See Judge Jenks here: 

 http://www.nbc12.com/global/story.asp?s=10992422

Local area office worker injured, stops working

RICHMOND, VA-Local area office worker, TLW, was stricken with a sudden and painful paper cut earlier this morning forcing her to abandon being productive for the rest of the day.  The paper cut occurred during the normally routine task of replacing a file back in its cabinet.  “I swear to God this is the deepest paper cut anyone has ever had”, TLW told reporters earlier this morning.  “Eff, man. I mean can you see my bone, or is that just me?” she asked as she closely examined the wounded finger.  “That’s it for me for the day”, she proclaimed, shoving her mounting pile of work to the side and settling  in for a healthy dose of internetting interspersed with text messaging, personal phone calls and smoke breaks.

Sources close to TLW state that paper cuts are only one of many excuses she uses to forgo her normal office duties including, but not limited to: state holidays she’s forced to work, full moons, hangovers, rainy days, and Fridays.  At press time TLW was currently catching up on Facebook, textsfromlastnight, some favorite local blogs and The Onion.

Best Title Ever

From the Richmond Times-Dispatch, yesterday.  Blame it on the al-al-al-alcohol.

Man pulls knife on friends, runs away, hits head, injures self

http://www2.timesdispatch.com/rtd/news/local/article/FIGHTGAT24_20090824-064802/287986/

What I *really* did on my summer vacation

 

 

 

 

 

One of two pictures I took on vacation-and I'm not even kidding

One of two pictures I took on vacation-and I'm not even kidding

 

 

 

 Okay, okay. Enough of the bullshit.  What did TLW and Barista *really* do on their summer vacation?  Barista is right for the most part-we did drink brewskies, play spades and float around in the pool.  But there’s more to story here than what she’s laying down.  Let’s take it back to the beginning of the week……

Monday.  TLW had herself a date.  What was seemingly a fairly standard dinner and movie combination morphed into something else entirely replete with woo woos (I love it when guys take woo woos btws) and staying up way too late on a school night. 

Tuesday. TLW calls in sick. “Cramps”.  I would’ve been working on three hours of sleep and I wasn’t having any part of it so instead I slept my ass in and lazied about all day. Later that night I treated myself to a J and wine to kick off my big summer vacation.

Wednesday. I arrive at the beach.  Barista may say that I got there at the crack of dawn but she was blowing up my cell piece to see where I was. I told her to cool her jets and that I’d be there in a hot sec.  Upon arrival we promptly went to the beach and cracked open our first brewskies of vacation.  We got hot pretty quickly and decided to kick it poolside.  I almost got attacked by a fox and Barista was frightened of fox attacks for the rest of the week.  Later that night I smoked some pot out of a can which I thought had been illegal since 1995.  We also listened to same five Kings of Leon songs for three hours straight with not one of us noticing.  Dope.

Thursday.  Beach Bloody Mary’s were in order.  After lunch we floated around  in the pool for the rest of the day alternating between talking about how hot  it was, how hot we are and playing an intense game of “Would You Rather” during which B made me question every single fundamental belief I have ever held. (Ultimate “Would you Rather” = Would you rather have spaghetti hair or sweat mayonnaise?  Think about it)  Later that night? More Spades.  Note: I’m a much better player when drunk and not stoned.  We kicked ass and danced around in celebration of beating the boys. 

Friday.  Back to the beach.  I propped myself up in a chair and debated with Barista if 10:30 was too early to start drinking.  (We decided it was).  We waited until it was pool time to start really throwing ‘em back.  I’d say we were pretty lit by sunset since Barista was no longer scared to smoke cigs near the foxes.  We switched it up to wine after dinner which is always a great idea after you’ve been drinking beers for 4 hours. Around midnight I pull one of my infamous Houdini’s of “going to the bathroom right quick” i.e. I’m going to hit the hay and not tell you fools!

Saturday.  Barista and I take a bike ride into town and make a new friend!  His name was Pippen and he’s my new boyfriend!  He’s seven months old and almost completely house trained!  Oh…and yes…Pippen is a dog, but a very handsome puppers if I do say myself.  After exchanging digits it was time to kick back to the RVA.  Hurricane Bill was on our asses like wow and our livers were at full capacity.

I sure do hope Pippen calls. He seemed interested, so we’ll see.  Regardless, I can’t wait for my vacation next year!

What I Did On TLW’s Summer Vacation

Me and Mr. Barista pulled up to the beach house on Tuesday night and threw our belongins all over the back yard.  We figured we’d spend most of our time out there, and that would be more convenient than actually using drawers and shiz.  Just to be on the safe side, we tossed some old soda cups from Arby’s on the front lawn for ash cans. 

Then we went to Harris Teeter and talked about how rad it would be if they came to Richmond as we paid for our $12 peaches, four cases of beer, bottle of Arbor Mist for me (hey, hubby knows how to romance this girl) and condoms.  Sike, who uses condoms anymore?

We killed a 12 pack in the hot tub and tried to see who could throw their beercan the farthest.  I won.  But truth be told if Mr. Barista hadn’t pegged that pelican, he might have took me down.

TLW showed up on Wednesday bright and early.  Too early for my taste.  I like to sleep my way through a hangover until at least 1:30 pm.  Our favorite dude from Gloucester rolled in right about sunset, so we all settled in for a nice jointgame of Spades.  TLW sucked ass at Spades until I gave her the stink eye and told her to do as I say or else.  She called me competitive and I said damn straight!  Round here we play for cash money.  After that she took it seriously and helped me whoop some tail.  We played to 300.  This took three nights, and countless beers, but we eventually showed them boys.  We made the boys listen to Lady Gaga as we did our victory shuffle.

During the day I mostly just floated in the pool.  I preferred the raft with the 16 built-in cup holders while TLW took the tiny pink zebra raft.  She kept talking to it and telling her raft that it was a much better friend to her than me, but who brought her all them brewskis?  Not that prissy zebra.  Not one time did she offer to get another round.  That’s why I didn’t feel bad about putting her eye out with my cig.  The zebra, not TLW.

A few times we headed on down to the beach but all those people with kids scared us.   They kept looking at us funny while I advised TLW that whoever said a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach is full of sugar honey iced tea.  It’s a bit south of there if you know what I’m saying.  Plus all those uptight adults kept letting their children play in the rip currents.  I guess they figure toddlers can figure it out on their own.

We did real good eating.  Real good.  I’m talking two whole bags of those tortilla chips with a hint of lime.  They worked out nicely in our Corona once we ran out of real limes.  We also had some seafood.  We chewed it up and showed each other all through dinner.  That joke never gets old.

We were real sad when it was time to go home, so Mr. Barista made us laugh when he did a couple of donuts in his four wheel drive in the front yard.  Then we all shot-gunned beers like they do down at Victory Lane at the mud bog and hit the road.

I guess that’s about all.  I can’t wait until we go back.  Maybe me and Mr. Barista will make a baby now so that we’ve got someone with us to help pack the truck up next year.

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