Monday Bear

So I was going to blog yesterday, but I was distracted.  I was all set.  I had a Diet Coke and a bag of popcorn, and I was in the mood for bloggin’.  Then the phone rings.  Of course, it’s for my mom, who is at her friend’s house.  That’s okay though, because I’m still in blog mode.  So I head to the computer… “Wait, where’s my coke?… I must have set it down to look at the caller I.D….Crap.”  I had no idea where it was.  I searched around the house for (I crap you not) at least 30 minutes looking for my coke.

I looked on every table.
I looked in the fridge.
I looked in the microwave.
I looked by the computer.

Finally, I check in the garbage can, and sure enough, there it is.  Of course I didn’t take it out and drink the rest.  What do you think I am, gross or something?

So I was ultra bummed about my loss of beverage and failed to blog.
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So I just realized that I could never have a pager. You know why? Because I never call people back. If you’ve ever called me, I’ve probably not called you back. Don’t take it personally; I just tend not to call people back, just like some people tend to bite their nails or poop themselves. It’s just a bad habit.

My mom used to have a beeper when she was a social worker. I was seven. I thought that was just too cool, so I saved up my money and got a plastic beeper filled with bubblegum. (more…)

So Erick came over today, right as dad was dropping me off at mom’s.  I invited him in to stay for a few minutes to show him my iDog, and I just realized:  That was the first time my whole family, all four of us, have been in the same house in over four years.

Even though I really know that my parents hate each other and there will never be any kind of resolution for their dispute, and I know that my dad and my brother have hated each other since my brother’s balls dropped, it was still really nice to have everyone in the same house again.  It was for less than five minutes, but it was still really comforting.  Just like it was when I was 6 years old.

Sorry, I’m being gay. (more…)

So I’m really bummed (get it?) about Taco Bell.  I’m just ready for this whole fiasco to be over with, because I miss Encharitos.  I’m so lost now, because that’s how I connected with friends in the olden days; I have so many memories with Alley Jo and Dan at Taco Bell.

Let’s reminisce about them, shall we?

• Every time I go with Alley Jo, there’s some black guy named Peanut working.  “Hey Peanut!  We need some burritos ova here!”  Now I’m going to name my first child Peanut.
• When Dan and I went to get Tacos for that way cool party we were attending where everyone had lightsaber battles.  We ordered 15 tacos and burritos in the drive- thru, and he said, “I hadn’t eaten in three days.  Is you ready for this?!?”
• That same night when he was complaining about the price increase of a taco at Taco Bell.  “49 cents, 59 cents, 69 cents, … twenty million dollaz!”
• When I went with Matt after our mall date and someone had written on the bathroom wall, “Fuck Sushi!”

(Speaking of bathroom walls…)    (more…)

So I have this friend… Let’s call her Hairy. Hairy just did it (and I don’t mean poop) for the first time a bit over a month ago. Welp, the other day, she just called me to tell me that something went horribly awry. You know what I’m talking about. She told me to guess, so this is what I guessed:

• You’re pregnant. No.
• Paul broke up with you. No.
• You made an A in ______. No.
• You made an F in _______. No.

Liz: I give up.
Hairy: Come on Liz. It’s something you’ve done before.
Liz: Oh Hairy, you dirty girl! I can’t believe you! Oh you slut! (more…)

So I decided to blog more and less. By this, I mean I’ll blog more often, and make my blogs shorter. Is that Okay? I mean, do you kids like the classic longass weekly blogs, or would you prefer a shorter twice a week/ thrice a week/ fice a week blog? Let’s make a game out of it. You can vote (comment) for which style you like, and I’ll blog however the winning team chooses.

At least for a little while. But inevitably, it is my blog, afterall.

Here are the teams you can choose to be on ? :

Team Casserole: You guys want a shorter, more frequent blog.
Team Mamelons: You guys want the classic long, weeklyish blog.

“VOTE OR DIE, BITCH”

- Puff Daddy P.Diddy

After you read the rest of this blog: (more…)

So many of you may be thinking, “What the hells is Liz doing blowing blogging twice in one week? She hasn’t done that since high school!”

You’re right.

I dropped out of college to go back to high school. Mainly because college didn’t give me enough blogtime.

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So one of my friends, who just happened to be a lady of colour, told me why alot of black girls don’t like me. It’s because black guys like me. Black guys like me because:

a.) I have red hair, and
b.) I’m shaped like a skinny black girl.

She says they don’t like me because we’re stealing their men and whatnot. That’s kind of a gay reason not to like someone, but I suppose it’s kind of like how it kind of bothers me when Matt says things about other girls, unless the other girl is my friend.

Kind of.

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