Saturday, December 31, 2011

I Suck.

OK, now that we've gotten that out of the way, how the hell has everyone been?? I have been neglecting my relationship with the internet (the most important one I have FYI) and with you wonderful people in my little corner of the internet. Everything just came too fast this year! BAM 2 days before Xmas and no shopping done. BAM Christmas Eve and family and trying to enforce present opening protocol. BAM Christmas Day and wearing my PJ's tucked into my red cowboy boots and forcing my sister (Lindz) to play Rock Band 3 with me. 

It was still a great Christmas though and I hope all of yours were equally great (but that maybe you got lucky and your family followed protocol). I think I would like to tell you about the protocol so that it is preserved for future years when everyone tries to pretend like they've never done it before.

Actually I'm going to write a bunch of posts while I have the inspiration and then even when I'm gone for a week on my cruise for my aunt's birthday (you heard me; it's fine to be jealous) you can have my presence (you're so goddamn spoiled) EVERY DAY. I'm gonna save them as drafts and have my mom post one a day for me. I haven't actually asked her to do that yet...hey mom, will you post my posts for me while I'm away?

So, I'm going to get to that (this post was just to let y'all know I'm still alive). I've got a bottle of champagne to myself (because everyone bailed on me and I hate my roommate) and a whole evening of The League and blogging planned. I hope everyone has a kick ass time getting shit faced and ringing in 2012.

Wednesday, December 21, 2011

My Name is Brianna and I'm Better Than You

Well, not YOU the person reading this, but YOU the people I went to school with. Why is that? You need some back story to understand the answer to that question.

In high school, my best friend (The Pretty One) and I were always looked at sideways. First it was "yous guys must be lesbians because you say i love you to each other and grab ass a lot' then it was 'well, fine, maybe you aren't screwing each other but you must be screwing everyone else because you talk openly about sex.' I went to a painfully conservative Baptist high school and when I wasn't busy giving teachers aneurysms by saying I support gay marriage and am pro-choice I was gallivanting around with The Pretty One talking about sex (which we knew nothing about). So, most people (teachers included) figured we'd be pregnant, married to a jailed felon, or in jail ourselves within a year of graduating.

This is where me being better comes in.

*I am not married
*I have not procreated
*I am not cohabitating
*I am not pregnant
*I have not been to jail

(Disclaimer: I do not think these things are so awful (except jail) it is only within the context of my hyper-religious school and the students who were exemplary there are the ones doing these things and the girl who was always pulled out of class for "counseling" is not)

This whole reflection was sparked by my roommate being arrested the other day. I know I claimed to be classy and that sounds super NOT classy, but I swear I wasn't involved AT ALL. She and her boyfriend got into an argument and she got physical with him. They were screaming at each other, she was hitting and scratching him, and apparently around 4 of our neighbors called the cops on them. Per the rules of domestic disturbance calls, the police had to take her in overnight.

We call that karma, bitches.

I really was gonna do a positive post about stuff I actually like (I know you thought I just hate everything) but this was too good to pass up! I'll do something less Judgy McJudgerson soon!

Friday, December 16, 2011

Things They Need to Hear Thursday: Mini Edition BONUS: Rant!

Dear Middle School Children,

Stop having sex. There's plenty of time and I guarantee you aren't emotionally ready to understand what's going on, nor are you physically ready to appreciate what's going on. Get some Barbies, make them be naked together, and ask your parents awkward questions; no one should be touching your goodies at this point except you.


A Woman you are Aging Prematurely by Being Sexually Active


I don't know why I do it. I always look at stuff I know is gonna rile me up. This time it's actually the fault of one of the 50 blogs I read; this blog post mentioned an article on entitled "Top 10 Subtle Ways to Tell Her She's Getting Fat" so obviously I had to go read it even though I knew it would make my HulkRage act up. 

This website is so alternately depressing and rage inducing. It makes me question everything I thought I had learned about human relationships and what I've been aiming for in finding one of my own. It brings up scary questions like 'Does anyone actually like anyone else?' Is everyone just looking to score the hottest piece of ass they can? I'm already a paranoid and suspicious being; I really don't need this added bullshit to make me even MORE paranoid and suspicious. Some "highlights" of this barrel of shenanigans:

#2: Buy her clothes that are too small

If you buy her clothes that are obviously too small for her, not only will she finally have to admit that she’s putting on weight, but she can easily return them for her correct size. First, she’ll have to reveal to you that the clothes are too small. “Oh,” you might say, “I thought you were a size 8. Isn’t that what you were last summer?” The onus is now on her to do something about it.  

A. Don't buy me clothes ever. You have bad taste; that's why I pick out YOUR clothes. B. Fuck off. 

#7: Playfully grab her love handles

Ask any man and he’ll tell you that he instinctively flexes his biceps whenever a woman touches them. The same thing goes for a woman when you make contact with any unwanted flab: She recoils and feels embarrassment. Use this reaction to your advantage. Even if she thinks that you’re too busy at work to have noticed a few extra pounds, if you continually rest your hand on her love handles (or even lightly pinch them), she’ll soon realize that you’re becoming increasingly aware of something that never used to be there before.

A. This is psychotic. Might as well gift wrap that eating disorder, asshole. B. Fuck Off.

#3: Sign her up for yoga under the pretence of "stress relief"

This works particularly well if your girlfriend still hasn’t worked out the link between an active lifestyle and emotional well-being. Tell her you have found exactly what she needs to help her relax, a regular spiritual cleanse in the form of a yoga class. Make sure you choose an intense, calorie-burning form (power yoga or ashtanga yoga), otherwise she may end up rolling around on the floor a couple times a week with no real benefits. The beauty of yoga is that if you dress it up as a way to relieve stress, she may not realize that she’s being tricked into shedding a few pounds, and even if she does, you’ll end up with a happier, more self-confident girlfriend rather than a grumpy lard-ass.

A. If all your girlfriend is to you is a "grumpy lard-ass" in between being 2 wet holes, why do you have a girlfriend? B. Fuck Off. C. I love that the advice is to ACT like you're doing something nice for her when, in actuality, you're still being a shallow dick. D. Fuck Off.

#5: Serve her unsatisfactory portions

When dishing up meals for the two of you, try giving her smaller-than-usual amounts. By making her ask for more food, you might succeed in shaming her into an acknowledgment of her recent weight gain, and hopefully to instigate a conversation about what she’s going to do about it. If you feel as though you’re starving yourself in the process, remember you can always go back for more when she’s not looking.


On the off chance that a "man"(of the type that would actually do those things) stumbles upon this: yes, I am a fat chick. Yes, I could be prettier. Now that I've nipped your typical responses in the bud, back to what I was saying.

Is this not frightening to anyone else? People are always saying that feminists need to STFU because everything is fine. This right here is NOT fine. Not by a long shot. This is how some people actually think of women and the standards they should be held to in terms of looks. That means the work is not done. /rant

Monday, December 12, 2011

I Got Called a Buttmunch. How Was Your Weekend?

That happened. I got called a "buttmunch" by a grown man. Do these crazies really not understand why they're single?? I mean, I've never had a truly healthy, stable, grown-up relationship, but even I know this is not the way to get one.

Backstory: I told this guy I'd go out with him. I said I'd meet him at a place downtown on Wednesday at 8:30 p.m. On Tuesday night: 

Dec. 6, 9:48pm
NutJob: hi
NutJob: i was there waiting for you
NutJob: hi?
NutJob: [frowning emoticon with broken heart]
BriBri: Huh? I said Wednesday

This kid never responded to that, so I assumed he figured I blew him off and that would be it...I am an idealist. He messaged me the next night saying that he had gone to the restaurant again. I obviously wasn't there. He got all sad emoticon-y all up in my business. I said sorry and he said "YOU ARE A REALLY REALLY MEAN PERSON" judging by that I started to get concerned that I was unknowingly being preyed upon by a middle school boy. I informed him of my suspicions that he is a nut job and he just let loose a stream of crazy like you've never seen. Then he signed off and I figured THAT would be the last of him...why am I always wrong? 

3 days later he IM'd me and told me he couldn't forgive what I said about him; I responded with 'mmk' NutJob let loose some cray-cray key smash and told me to go to hell and that I was a "horrible girl." He called me 'mean' a few dozen times, then he brought out the heavy artillery: "buttmunch" is all the message said. I have not heard that 'insult' uttered since middle school. He sent a devil emoticon and said that was me. He TOLD me to apologize. Now, as anyone who knows me is aware: I am not TOLD to do things by anyone, save my parents and my bosses. I still kept my cool though; I swear I wasn't actually mean to this guy. He just legitimately seems to be off his damn rocker. I inquired as to his age: "BriBri: are you 12?" He did not care for that either. Some more KEY SMASH ensued. He demanded I apologize; I did not. 

I read the whole conversation to my mom and Killa and we legit had trouble catching our breath. I just cannot believe this is how some grown people choose to interact. Also, AS I WAS TYPING THIS, NutJob IM'd me saying "let's go out" This is a joke right? I'm being Punk'd? Please say yes. 

In other news, my parents and my sister came to town this weekend; there's nothing to do in this place so we toured the campus of a school I do not even attend...and this: 

I think his Jockey ads are sexy, but I do not enjoy his morality; possibly because I have questionable morals. 

Thursday, December 8, 2011

Things They Need to Hear Thursdays: Don't be a Dick Edition

I've got half an hour left of Thursday. Let's do this shit. I've had to deal with some of the rudest, shittiest guests ever this week (if you're just joining us (or forgot, cause who gives a fuck) I work at a hotel). These people suck.

Dear Ornery Guests,

You suck. Yeah, I said it. What is it about hotels that turn you people into sniveling infants? If your plumbing is backed up, I understand your frustration and, perhaps, anger. If you booked a King size bed on Priceline for 12 bucks and I put you in a 2 double because we're out of kings, do NOT call me and say "I NEED a king size bed." I just fucking told you, I don't have any! This isn't Hogwarts; there's no room of requirement that appears when your fat ass decides it can't fit in a Full sized bed. Lay down, shut up, and go to sleep. Hey, yous! Yeah yous guys that call in wake up calls for times like 6:55 or 7:10; please go die in all the fires. You're a grown ass person, you can pick a quarter hour interval just like everyone else. If you need to wake up at douchebag:30, you can set your cell phone alarm or the alarm clock PROVIDED IN YOUR ROOM. Also, while we're on wake-up calls, do not ask me to call you back in 5 minutes. Please refer to the portion of the seminar where I reminded you that you're an adult and I am not your mother. Stop calling me to ask for the WiFi password and then asking me to hold on while you sound out the word 'castle.' You called me, asshole, and I'm at work; you're just trying to watch porn or check the Facebook. One last thing, do not come up to my desk, ask me the rate, and then ask "is that the best you can do?" while either looking disapproving or pervy. Yes, that is the best I can do. Actually, it just went up 20 bucks for asking that dumbass question. Get it together, act like a grown up, and STFU or GTFO.


Yes I referenced Hogwarts. Deal. 

Also, my parents and my sister are coming into town this weekend for the first time in the 18 months I've lived here! I am psyched and will probably not be posting this weekend, but I'm sure there will be shenanigans. Now, hopefully they won't notice I'm broke. At least I'm broke cause I got my mom a bitchin' Xmas gift. That negates it, right? 

Saturday, December 3, 2011

Things They Need to Hear Thursdays: Man-Child Edition

Someone finally listened to me and gave me a topic for our Thursday snarks. Mandi (who is currently doing a very funny rundown of stupid Xmas gifts, that I am loving) is a landlady for an apartment complex I imagine to be kinda like mine since it's in a college town and whatnot. So, basically, even though I'm not a man-child, I'm pretty sure I'll have to take my own advice from this letter.

Dear Man-Children,

I understand that it is invigorating to be out in the world, forging your way forward, with no one telling you what to do, but everyone else is sick of it. Being disgusting is not a lifestyle choice. If you want mommy to still clean up after you, then I suggest you go live with her; save non-gross people from having to see not only the clothes you've been "sniff testing" and wearing for a month, but the ghastly body they've been covering. If someone from your leasing office is coming by to show your apartment: moldy pizza should be thrown out, last night's 'great personality' must be shown out, and pants are required. Not optional. I didn't know I'd need to explain this, but women are slightly different from men. I've noticed that the presence of breasts (or a padded bra) are really the only requirements for wanting to see someone naked for the male populace. Let me learn you something here: more requirements exist for the discerning (read: sober) woman. I can picture men naked when I drive around campus at prime jogging time (curse you winter, with your jackets), but you aren't those guys. Those guys could walk around in public naked; you may not even walk around your apartment naked. I promise, you have a better chance of getting laid with your clothes on (fumble in the dark like everyone else, asshole). Invest in a garbage can, put on your pants, and smile at the landlady; she's probably a funny ass bitch.


OK I know it's Saturday, but I woke up on Thursday with a rash all over (though not on the bits you'd be nervous about a rash on, so huzzah for that) and, honestly, I'm not enough of a grown-up to know how to be "adult sick." As in, how to take care of myself/fill prescriptions/go to work anyway/not have my mommy around . So you're getting this late, but at least you're getting it at all (if I had a nickel...). Also, my backspace button is being a bastard so any issues with grammar or syntax should be directed to my backspace key.