In case you haven't noticed

I rarely slap counters and interrupt people in a rude and incoherent manner.

But I will try to do more of this in the future. So watch out.

Hearing Problem

Are there any phrases that, while they do not commit any grammatical infractions, feel like a sharp object to your eardrum?

For example "my guy."

Maybe it's because when people say this, referring to their beaus, I am reminded of my friend's 8th grade ice skating routine to the song "Shy Guy." And this song was irritating beyond measure. Of course, what was not irritating in 1993? A: Hardly anything.

I know I have many other "please, no!" phrases, but this one happened upon me this morning. Anyone care to share?

Q: Who is this woman with the ridiculously loud hair-do intruding on my cube?

Drinking Problem

Those of you who have always marveled at my total inability to consume liquids with any rapidity or really, at all, can wonder no longer.

Currently, I am suffering (along with KoF) the allergies or sinus infection or some type of upper respiratory blorg of death and destruction. As such, I have perpetual cotton mouth, which no amount of delicious, satisfying water can quench.

In the last two days, I have uncharacteristically consumed about six 32-ounce water bottles-worth of water.

And the result?

I pee every 30 seconds. No kidding. I have a well-worn path to the ladies room now, which is actually fine because that's about how often my nose runs and I need more (hurty) "kleenex" (toilet paper). It was awfully benevolent of God to give me a total lack of thirst considering my bladder is approximately the size of a very, very small... shoe. Or something else that is remarkably small.

Happy long weekend everyone! MRT and I will be using the next three days to stave off the blorg. Hope you will do the same.

The Bitchslap at the Federal Courthouse

What's the word in Downtown Houston this morning?

Oh yeah, Former Enron CEOs Jeff Skilling and Ken Lay are guilty!

Ken Lay on all ten counts.
Jeff Skilling on 19 out of 28.

Not too shabby.

Quote from a pundit on CNN "I am not even joking when I say Ken Lay will be in prison for over a hundred years."

I think it's actually 45 years.

Bam! That kind of justice has gotta smart, kids.

EDIT: Ominous post script from a Click2Houston article: "Sentencing will be held on Sept. 11."

That is STYLISH!

Victory is mine!

Just now, K o F and I were looking for his phone. He dialed the number and we could tell it was in the living room, but couldn't place that muffled sound exactly. He called it again as I was looking under the sofa and one of the cushions began to vibrate a bit next to my head. When I lifted the cushion, there was KoF's phone...

AND FLOOPY!

Glorious, wonderful, full-sized Floopy has come home at last.

WHEEEE!

I now re-direct my interests back to solving world hunger, curing AIDS, etc.

MaryT's Hurricane Kit

Since hurricane season is around the corner and everyone and their pet rock is trying to prepare for the impending doom, I thought I'd put together a little kit to help y'all get ready.

MaryT's Hurricane Kit includes the following:

• One tank of gas
  
• One flash light and batteries
  
• Cooler full of delicious, frosty drinks
  
• Bottled water
  
• Renter's insurance
  
• Board games
  
• Heaping portions of STFU
  
• Overwhelming servings of sarcasm

Seriously, y'all. Somehow, after the non-event of Rita, the hellacious evacuation through Death Valley and the hilarity of Texas A&M bookstore boarding the inside of their windows, people are still freaking out about Hurricane Katrina happening in Houston. Did you not learn your lesson? Do you really think that Houston will ever collapse into an amorphous lake of steam and suffering 16 feet below sea level because--what--our levees have failed? Get some canned foods, some peanut butter and water--and seriously: STFU.

I know Alison was bad in 2001, but it was more of what you'd call "a really long rain storm" than a hurricane and flash-floods happen in Houston virtually year-round. I hear Alicia in 1983 (or whatever year) was bad, too, but it's still wasn't nearly like Katrina. It will never be like Katrina here. We're like 60 miles inland. We're above sea level. We're home to a Republican majority. Bitch, please.

People are acting like after June 1st, it's open season on people or something. I can't tell you how many conferences, seminars and workshops on hurricane preparedness have come to my attention. All in the name of FREAKING OUT!!! (ahhh.)

In the great world of analogies where I usually like to draw some parallel to "the bathhouses of this era," I'm going to go out on a limb. Is Hurricane Season the new Y2K (the new bathhouse)? I think so.

P.S. If you do happen to meet your end in a polluted, violent, stormy way, can I have your non-water-logged stuff?

P.P.S. Here is a non-sarcastic, actual tip. It is a good idea to put a number in your cell phone with the name of ICE, which stands for in case of emergency. if you are ever dead and lying in a pool of your own blood or you know, suddenly need a new spleen, this alerts emergency personnel about whom to contact for further details about blood type and such as that. "Mom and Dad" also works.

Fallen

Monday afternoons, Jen and I go to the Downtown Y for our normal Monday workout, which we like to conclude with about ten minutes in the steam room. We chat, joke, and pretend like we are not rapidly depleting valuable electrolytes. Ah, refreshing.

This week, as we exited the steam room, we were toweling off and passing the showers when a homeless woman/part-time YMCA resident (who is frequently showering and such as that at that time) was crawling from the shower to her wheelchair, totally naked. (So this is the part where you realize that, like most of my blogs, this one will be pretty mean-spirited. This is also the part where you decide to read the rest.)

The meeting was, in Jen's words "abrupt." The sight of a totally naked, semi-emaciated, drawn, partially legless woman is not like occasionally seeing a possum in your backyard or something. It's kinda disturbing, actually.

What was even sadder is that when this woman's eyes met our gaze, she INSISTED that we hop in the shower immediately and that she turn the shower on for us. We refused, but her response was,puzzlingly "You don't like good, hot showers?"

We went into conversational barrage mode where we said a million things all amounting to: "Oh, thanks, but we're really uncomfortable standing here watching you naked and disabled."

"Thank you, but we're on our way home," I said.
"Oh, really you don't have to; we're leaving but thanks" said Jen.

There are a lot of implications from this incident, but I'd like to figure out which of these is worse: that a homeless woman believes deeply that we need to shower or that she thought we would expect a legless someone to be the facilitator of said showers, should we desire them.

Maybe she just thinks we are creeps who groove on cold showers. Or who stare at naked, homeless, legless women without any intent to shower at all. No telling, I guess.

Well, I am the Captain of Team Awesome

So, this should surprise no one. And if I have a fault, it's my excessive modesty. I am pretty much positive that Erin will do better than me though. But that's cool. We're homeys. And she is the smartest. A good skill for someone who is the purported Boss of Me.

English Genius You scored 100% Beginner, 100% Intermediate, 100% Advanced, and 93% Expert!

You did so extremely well, even I can't find a word to describe your excellence! You have the uncommon intelligence necessary to understand things that most people don't. You have an extensive vocabulary, and you're not afraid to use it properly! Way to go! Thank you so much for taking my test. I hope you enjoyed it! For the complete Answer Key, visit my blog: http://shortredhead78.blogspot.com/.

My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender: You scored higher than 58% on Beginner You scored higher than 33% on Intermediate You scored higher than 75% on Advanced You scored higher than 84% on Expert

Link: The Commonly Confused Words Test written by shortredhead78 on Ok Cupid, home of the 32-Type Dating Test

...and we're back up.

Sorry, basically every year on May 18, French-Roast disappears from the face of the planet as I totally ignored all previous notices from the domain registering thing that it was about to expire.

It's back though and I seriously am working on re-designing the site so it will be aesthetically pleasing in addition to its other attributes of being emotionally fulfilling and petty in abundance.

By the by, I always forget my official blog-iversary in June, so now seems like as good a time as any to say: Happy Birthday French-Roast! You're four years old (the domain anyway), you rascal!

Also, shout out to Hagan/Patrick who encouraged me to get a blog in the first place, even though at the time, the concept totally baffled me.

Simply Hilarious

Recommended by Mango Lassy

I am nearly in tears from this awesomeness. Thank you, Jo!

Hilarious contest one.

Hilarious contest two.

Party on.

She Hit Me with her Best Shot

More dispatches from the missing comments file!

I really love getting hate mail telling me to research something further from people who clearly have neither read my post, nor have any sense of irony whatsoever. This comment is regarding my rant about Brides Against Breast Cancer.

"Wow. Get laid. Please. It sounds like you really need it.

But before you do, please punch this into your browser to see that 'Brides Against Breast Cancer' is an actual charitable organization that donates all of its earnings to help fight breast cancer, and not something derived from 106.9 The Point: http://www.weddingbasics.com/blo...icle.asp? ID=720.

Furthermore, it sounds like you get ticked pretty easily. Try some herbal tea or a nice massage. They might help to take some of the edge off. Getting rid of some of those frown lines, along with a quick call to the Quick Weight Loss Centers, might help you finally get laid!

And please, do the DJ's at 106.9 The Point a favor and stop listening. I'm sure it's meant for people who do like to have fun." --Cyndi Benatar

Okay, it's no secret that I *don't* like having fun. I have never once listed it among my interests. Nor have I indicated a preference for fine "dinning." I try to leave those interests in thee personal ads, where they belong, along with the people who will one day join a "charitable organization" of no real substance and aggravating self-aggrandizing mission statement.

In conclusion, I enjoy that Pat's less-talented sister decided that the best way to irk me is to indicate that I am likely fat.

I think I speak for a much more famous Benatar when I say "Come on with your come-ons. You don't fight fair. That's okay. See if I care."

As A Matter of Fact...

Occasionally, I have to moderate my comments. It's not necessarily something I like to do, but when I get comments like "I made a POOP!!!!1!!" anonymously, it's time to check who has been prowling around. One of the perqs of moderating comments is that I get to go back and see some recent ones that might be on old posts that I would have otherwise missed.

Now, for whatever reason, I am one of the top Google sites for "Shandi Finnessy". (Dear God, I just boosted my rankings at that!) That being the case, my ONE time that I wrote about her for being in a pageant or somesuch (I can't remember because...it doesn't matter to me) apparently makes me one of the few people giving her press--such as it is. However, it's not for lack of demand as her name has made my page some kind of hot item. That's right--a hot item. So either she is extremely vain or many people are stalking her. Or both. With that explanation, I present this comment Q & A of sorts.

"FOr your information, Shandi Finnessey has a Master's in Psychology. What do you have, a Ph.D in being a cynical, dumbass loser?" --Al

"You could say that. And I'll have you know that I didn't get my PhD in cynical dumbassery at the University of Non-Accredited, either. I'm the real thing."--MaryT, Miss Cranky Texas 2006

Confidential to my Bishly readers

WTF am I supposed to do with this foh-ty in my fridge?

Attention stalkers!

Get on my radar, STAT!


Look at where my Friends are!
MyGeoSpots Map

I will likely move this to the sidebar soon, so get it while it's hot.

How I Knew I Loved You #1

A new occasional series wih a positive spin--for once!

Sometimes for lunch I like to get a California Dreamin' sandwich from Spec's (and if you had your wits about you, you would, too--they are DELICIOUS! turkey, avocado, sprouts, tomatoes, mustard, mayo, whole grain bread and provolone!).

If I don't go on my one-out, I typically go with someone other than K o F. The sandwiches are huge, so I can never finish and I usually bring a half home--a half that K o F usually eats. However, this past week, K o F went with me to Spec's on Friday for lunch and eating a California Dreamin' fresh from the deli, he commented:

"This sandwich is a lot better when it's been sitting out for a few hours."

Anyone who has seen how I like to enjoy leftovers (at room temperature, having sat on my dining room table for many hours or a day) and drink day-old watered down or flat cokes will appreciate this especially.

This obviously was not the first time I knew I loved K o F, but it was a moment of pure admiration at the very least.

P.S. Do not believe that just because I am now posting this series that I will discontinue my favorite "how I knew I didn't love you." That's just ruling out petty meanness unnecessarily and I won't stand for that.

Myspace is Not Yourspace and Other Tales of Woe

Meta: You know how it works—once I start blogging, sometimes I can’t stop. My head was full of musings last night and you’re seeing the results today.

I am truly appreciative for my web presence outside of myspace. I am really tired of friend requests from people who moderately know me, don’t know me at all or post way too many needy bulletins, such as “I really need to go to bed right now.” Really? Judge’s ruling: Don’t care. I used to be worried that if I didn’t add people who requested my friendship, I’d be rude, but at this point: meh. The thing is, if I never see these people and/or have never met them, how will the loss of their myspace regard mess up my life? A: It won’t.

Yesterday, one of K o F’s “associates” in another state sent me a friend request, accompanied by an email that could only be written by someone who a) has taken a LOT of mushrooms b) has taken a LOT of mushrooms or c) has taken a LOT of mushrooms. WTF? It was totally incomprehensible.

K o F said I should be flattered and that she would be offended if I turned down her friendship. I said “bah/tough beans/bah” and just decided to let the friendship request fade away instead of deleting her outright. I learned my lesson though. K o F added her when I was in the other room. Sneaky! But little did he know that I would promptly delete her, along with the culprit behind the obnoxious bulletins (who I admittedly added of my own volition at one point, but still). From now on, I am adopting Pens’s motto of “I have enough friends,” and anyone who does not meet my rigorous standards of awesome on myspace should expect the chop. (I know this sounds horrible and mean. I am open to more friends, certainly, but I am already close friends with like the for-real Awesome Brigade. You have no idea how rad these peops are.)

Still though, I have gotten a few friend requests from strangers and I find them to be rather awesome and they have been spared the chop. But beware non-awesome others: the chop is coming. I have no scruple in not adding people, also due to my other motto of: “hey, we’re not friends!”

Note: anyone on my top 8 should consider themselves unchoppable. Corrollary: anyone who was not choped this morning is still golden in my eyes. I can tell you were all really worried. Oh teen drama!

And also:

My printer ran out of black ink yesterday, so I replaced it, only to discover that the absence of black was causing the color issue of weeks ago in which my red printed like brown. Where was that in the troubleshooting section? Hint: it wasn’t.

Wine for the Confused

So I was just updating my netflix queue and looking at movies that will be released this week. Under the heading of "special interest" was: Wild Party Girls: Sorority Sleepover. No doubt a fine film, I believed "special interest" didn't quite do justice to the kind of interest most people who would rent it have.

But when I'm wrong, I say I'm wrong (sometimes).

I have clearly undersold this viewing population. Imagine my surprise when having clicked the link for it, I discovered the myriad interests had by those who enjoyed it. And as an act of contrition for making an ass of u and me, I present the movies most enjoyed by those who enjoy porn special interest films.

• Coral Reef Adventure
  
• Cirque du Soleil: Journey of Man: IMAX
  
• The Real Cancun [mandatory smirking]
  
• John Cleese's Wine for the Confused
  
• Dr. Wayne Dyer: How to Get What You Really Want & Improve Your Life

Oooookay!

Flowers Won't Save You Now

A little while ago, I was at Central Market, where people were scurrying about purchasing food, flowers and cards in a chance to deliver last minute sentiments-they-don't-mean to their moms.

Harsh? Yes, always, but let's consider:

In the course of my tour through the store, about five people cut me off, acted huffily towards me or were downright assholey to the person they were with.

In addition, traffic was unusually heavy for 8:45 am and with these new rage-a-holics on the road, it was unusually dangerous, also. I was tailed, cut off AND given the finger all within two miles of my home. Quick background: Though people occasionally tail me because they're jerks and/or teenagers, this is really unusual that all this would even happen to me in the course of one month. I can only conclude then that people were in a hurry and anxious about redeeming themselves to their mothers, to whom they are likely total assholes the rest of the year.

Don't worry, be crappy, folks. Flowers can't save you now. Sure, mom loves you, but you're still pretty much an asshole. :)

Happy Mother's Day to Muno!

Or in Dear Abby speak: "Confidential to my maternal readers: Happy Mother's Day. And to Pauline Phillips: I don't fill your shoes in any good way!"

Floopy, Come Home

I realize I haven't blogged in awhile and that I can no longer hide my personal tragedy and pretend I'm not suffering. Friends, let me level with you: my hair clip is missing.

About a week and a half to two weeks ago, I was happy in hair-land. I had my trusty clip that my nephew refers to (in Afrikaans) as a dolphin. It's oddly-shaped, it's heavy-duty for thick hair, it's great for wet or dry, it clips without pinching and OH MY GOD IT'S MISSING.

This happened for the entire month of October and almost anyone who saw me during that time noticed that I was visibly distraught. K o F didn't know me at that time and perhaps that is why the first morning I awoke to note that my follicular-finagling friend was not available, he said "It's just a hair clip; don't freak out."

Two weeks later, I think he is feeling the (this is for you, Erin) "sublime gravity" of the situation.

• I love my hair clip.
  
• I use my hair clip.
  
• I NEED my hair clip.
  
• Hair clip.

"So just go buy another one," you say.

Well, Callous Observer, they're like $40. Plus, me and Floopy are tight.

"WHA?!"

Okay--clearly worth it or I wouldn't be FREAKING out.

"But you found it before after you lost it."

This is not the point. I have already looked under the passenger seat of my car and knowing that it might appear doesn't make it easier to cope with an amount of hair, which can only be deemed " a lot" by people who really know, on a daily basis.

"Use a different hair item."

Well, I can see I'm not getting through to you. I am using other hair accoutrements at this time, however, they often leave my wet hair lumpy (instead of swishily floopy--hence the name; also it worked well in the title of this blog) at the end of the day or look sloppy and such as that.

So I guess I'll just continue to freak out until I:
a)replace my faithful friend
b)FIND my faithful friend.

Urban Family Reunion

I am unbelievably pysched about the upcoming Awesome Family reunion celebrating the fine achievements of Jen and Brad and the Unbearable Lightness of Being Matt at ConBRADulatJENS! It's Matt 14th! The only thing I am sad about is how many beloved friends across the country will not be joining us. We will raise a glass to you friends.

We miss you. We love you.

Michelina's! For A More-Fulfilled Depressed Economy

It really warms my heart beyond measure to discover that the same Michelina's Macaroni and Cheese meals that I enjoyed in abundance since my junior year of high school (c. 1996) are still the affordable price of $0.89 and the same delicious quality.

I mean, here's a company who has not raised their prices since (before) minimum wage was last raised. I appreciate that their employees can likely afford their own product. That is, if they pay in dollars in China, or moreover if the employees in China make the equivalent of America's alleged "living wage."

Sure, I am veering off into bitter territory, but seriously: I can get behind Michelina's. And at $0.89 for creamy hot deliciousness ready in 2.5 minutes (approx.) so can you.