oh great another weblog awards thing. this one is the real deal of the real deals. i’m in the running for best diarist (i can’t get over that word) and i am going up against dooce, someone i know nothing about but i DO know that she’s big?
are we polar opposites, if so i may as well give myself a massive headache right now.
is it douche or doos cos if it’s douche, i think she is going to win.
that’s kind of mean of the weblog awards to put me up against a big-whig, hey, why not put me up against the best lobster and steak meal EVER while you’re at it!
merkley???: dooce is married to my old room mate
me: oh really
merkley???: they live off the blog money no other jobs
me: im so gonna lose right omg
merkley???: she won last year
me: she gets that much money?
merkley???: yup supports the whole fam travels everywhere etc.. when the news needs a woman blogger to give a soundbite she’s the one she has been big for a few years now i skim the rss only because her husband is my old room mate and band mate
me: do u think i stand a chance
merkley???: umm — man — she has a lot of readers i dont know how they do the voting i mean i saw that i was nominated in the comments for photoblog more than anyone else but it never ended up happening probably because i didnt contact them or act like i cared also because of all the nude stuff
me: well her blog immediately when i go to it i feel there is a yawn factor
merkley???: i mean a couple of years ago my band won best sf band in a readers poll but we had only played 2 times
me: like yeah yer smart and clever and whatever but we get it
merkley???: she is a pretty good writer the subject matter is boring though
me: yeah but entertainmentwise
merkley???: its all about her kid
me: exactly
merkley???: when she was writing about depression it was better
me: like just write a book i can imagine
merkley???: moms love the fuck out of her young moms but still, ocasionally if she has a good post title i will read it and be slightly entertained
me: yeah well i have to get the bitches to like me before they are knocked up
merkley???: she aint a hack this will be great exposure maybe
me: should i pretend i have a child well im taking back the NOT being a mom if she wins everyone will be like i want to be a mom when i grow up
merkley???: well if you wanna start a controversy just start talking shit on her
me: if i win they will be like i want to party forever WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOO! i already am ha i can see it now RAYMI IS DUMB HER TEMPLATE IS REALLY OLD AND SHE DRINKS A LOT SHE HAS NO BRAINCELLS SHE DOESNT DESERVE HER BOYFRIEND FUCK dooce is probably someone i would totally admire but because of the weblogs i have to crap all over her
merkley???: her readers are very loyal i never met her - they live in utah actually i think a lot of her readers would like you she’s not conservative at all she is just stuck in a boring life right now yeah i dont think she is hateable from an objective stand point you have to hate motherhood or some other thing
me: yeah like surviving and making something of yourself haha
merkley???: she was an early blogger too
me: i saw that 2001
merkley???: she got national attention when she got fired for stuff she wrote on her blog and she rode that wave for a long time although she does have the chops writing wise and she also never misses a day — much like you
me: oh hmm
merkley???: i prefer your blog a billion times more though and i’m not just saying that
me: ok i will win then and if i dont i will have the perfect defense, something beyond immature oh i can make age jokes and 15 minutes of fame is up etc
merkley???: hmmn
me: she seems to be riding the got fired wave still
merkley???: dooce appeals to thirty somethings who think that they used to be cool once but are pretty sure they arent anymore but they dont care
me: cynical kids of boomers
merkley???: yup
me: i cant tell what is more annoying between the two
merkley???: she has all the ex mormons with her too
me: great well i have the ex catholics
merkley???: she writes a lot about being an ex mormon rebel living in utah
me: no i dont how bad ass she is right haha his is all going on my blog btw
merkley???: the main thing that is super duper annoying about her and jon is that they think they are being edgy but they are soooooo not
me: you are my campaign manager
merkley???: haha welll
me: im putting yer opinions i hope it doesnt destroy your friendship but really i hope it does aha
merkley???: she is gonna be kinda miffed to see my name on your blog
me: yep
merkley???: i dont give a fuck she aint my friend
me: TODAY IN UTAH I DID SOMETHING SO EXTREME I CANNOT EVEN BLOG ABOUT IT
merkley???: i never met her and my only interaction with her directly was negative yeah
merkley???: i never met her and my only interaction with her directly was negative yeah i was in a band with her husband for years and there are sour grapes there because i am the only one in the band that actually still lives a somewhat music related/ art related lifestyle
me: do they say things like GROW UP thats precious
merkley???: they were always jealous that i got all the attention in tyhe band even though i wasnt even on stage
me: well she will have tony pierce on her side and he hates you and you hate him sothis is just perfect
merkley???: dude
me: oh here it comes
merkley???: i’m totally on your side and you can quote me and it makes it super personal
me: this is going to be great or a huge mess
merkley???: her humor is self depricating she doesnt do the I’M AWESOME shit you are indie man she’s soo mainstream she’s like a slightly drunk katie couric who is bi-polar
me: more like lamestream
merkley???: ha
merkley???: making fun of her readers is probably a better approach they all really think she is edgy she is a feather in their boring caps they think they are edgy when they read the F word on her blog blows their minds man
me: AAAHAHAHAHAAA
merkley???: she has the same kind of readers as tony the kind that have to be all excited about Postal Service or some other equally bland “INDIE” music
me: who the fuck are they
merkley???: a terrible band for total nerds
me: i figured
merkley???: graphic designers horn rimmed glasses
me: THIS SONG IS CALLED IMPACT IT IS ABOUT MY FAVORITE FONT
VOTING BEGINS THURSDAY so vote for me for best diarist and whoever else for whatever else. bye.
this chick is WAY bitter that she lost to me for best personal blog. she didn’t even rank 3rd and yet she hates on me specifically, totally ignoring 2nd and third place. check the comments. hey um tits for hits, where are my tits on this page right now? i’m so tired of crotchety boring bitches, you lost cos you are LAME and boring and bitter, which had nothing to do with me GET OVER IT. thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for maintaining the highschool what is blogging.
here are a couple comments from what i can only assume are extremely intellectual people:
Seriously, who cares if she smeared her vagina all over her Atari joystick and then put the video on the internet. It’s not like she’s never done anything like that before. Naked is her art. I mean, prove that you look better naked and win next time. Also, this is a paid message provided by women with giant tits supporting the smaller tittied friend. Also, I am the NRA.
RE: sheena’s blog — how does she expect to win if she doesn’t even write it herself! having a fan follow her around to pen “sheena did this, and sheena thinks that” is a totally cheating.
erin said…
wait why do you hate raymi? because she has cute tits? hey is this your arm? because that would explain why you are so bitter.
erin is right this fucking explains EVERYTHING.
Sabrina: LOOK AT THE SIZE OF THAT SANDWICH TOO she is jealous: 1. cause you won 2. becuse she is a hybrid mix of the trash heap from fraggle rock and jabba the hut
Sabrina: ALL SHE DOES IS WRITE ABOUT FOOD
me: yes
Sabrina: HELLO, FATASS, SHUT THE FUCK UP
me: yes
Sabrina: ALSO it is not a fucking marvel of science but when you stumble on a blog where there are no pictures at all THE WRITER IS FUCKING UGLY AS SIN AND/OR FAT AS FUCK
me: she would win for best food blog
Sabrina: which is actually, the same thing
me: like i am suppose to be made to feel bad because i don’t look like that? that’s not fair
Sabrina: no, you are suppose to feel bad because she does not look like you and that is her problem, obviously HELLO, GET A LIFE. IF YOU HAVE A FUCKING GIANT FUPA AND HAVENT SEEN YOUR PUSSY SINCE THE TECHNOLOGY BOOM OF THE 90S–THEN GO ON A FUCKING DIET, IT IS SORTA SIMPLE, DURRR
me: she should be more focused on the fact that she lost the war on weight not blogs
Sabrina: and she has a fupa. i know in my heart that she does
me: i dont know what that is
Sabrina: FAT UPPER PUSSY AREA
me: um ew enough
me: anyway its not my fault she has a hobby of making and devouring entire trays of pinwheel sandwiches and therefore is morbidly obese
Sabrina: hahahaha
me: i like that we are down to her level i really should be thanking her for the blog material
i need to wear that shirt more often, k-os seems to think it is inspiring. i need to wear more shirts in general that are the same colour as my skin pigment.
i have dementia or soon i will i think i am already showing signs of it, that and senility. don’t worry i will make it in vogue somehow, promise. i know i have it cos when i leave the condo it takes me five minutes to close and lock the door and i have to re-check on cid to make sure he did not get out and if i do not see him with my eyes as i am walking backwards slowly toward the door i figure ok he got loose during the half second i looked away. i get trapped in this infinite OCD loop where i go back to where he is sitting or eating and go to the door, go back to him again, then to the door and by the third time he is like WHAT IS GOING ON? and then he bolts for the door.
the carpetting in the hallway camouflages him so if i am not paying attention when i leave i don’t notice him chilling out there it’s just like oh i must be on acid right now cos there’s something skulking around with a face oh that’s the cat pretty much like the cheshire cat from alice in wonderland.
so people are waiting for me downstairs and i am a notoriously late person to begin with meanwhile they call i say ok down in a minute and they are thinking ok she is turning off lights or something but really i have my hand on the doorknob in the hallway poking my head into the apartment every 3 seconds to make sure cid is still doing his impression of a loaf of bread by the window.
ok i have to draw a picture of saddam hussein now because that is how i get in the holiday spirit.
oh yeah i dropped the camera on my keyboard and the ‘s’ button flew off now i feel poor.
watched scoop last nite. if you can get past how annoying it is to watch scarlett johansson immitate woody allen for 1.5 hours then yes, rent it. short of that, just stare at her tits. i actually forgot what her name was halfway through and referred to her as tits like it was a real name and not in the cheesy chauvinistic way that some fuck in a dive bar talks about some girl at minuteman express or wherever, yes, my way was more respectful?
there is a scene when she is in a red bathingsuit and i don’t really remember anything that happened during that part cos of that red bathingsuit not to be a lesbian or anything but holy bajungas.
hugh jackman is in it and normally my vagina would be tingling but seriously just you fucking TRY to keep your eyes off scarlett it’s impossible if they cloned her or even made dummy models and shipped them to afghanistan world war 3 would be over, just saying, not that troops are even in the right place right now, so i guess they would have to go to iraq instead, whatever i don’t know anything anymore.
fil put his hand up over my right eye to block out hugh jackman so i wouldn’t swoon over him and i said don’t even bother i am not looking at him.
i swear i did scarlett as boner of the week already i just tried googling my blog, no dice. ok scarlett is BONER OF THE WEEK.
ps ladies i remember from baywatch if you want to have huge cans or trick guys into thinking that you do, get a one-piece suit and make sure the straps go around your neck or there is a string that brings the straps together, don’t thank me, thank baywatch.
i’ve been reading your blog for 2 or 3 years now and i gotta tell ya, i am madly smitten with you in a cyber border-crossing way. The pic of you with your hair splashed across your face on the site under your “three-dimensionally oval-shaped head/face MAC guy” entry sealed the deal for me today.
Due to the fact that we both have significant others, can we be USA/Canada fake cyber couple?
u r hawt!
-W
my myspace page if you wanna checkout me and my lameness out…at the very least we could be myspace friends:
should i email this guy’s wife? upon closer inspection this email is not all that incriminating.
this being called a whore thing is pretty funny to me.
it reminds me of my first dance recital, when i was in grade four. we were lining up for the finale where we all get on stage in our 100 dollar ugmo spandex sequined costumes a la jon benet ramsey complete with whore make-up and hairsprayed hairdos, anyway like i said i was in grade four.
my jazz class/dance theme was TURKEY IN THE STRAW and our routine was danced to the song by the same name sung by sharon lois and bram (to you americans these people for some reason are really into hanging out with kids and forcing them into random bursts of communal singing, usually about bicycle streamers and garage sales and science projects and turkeys in straws, apparently) and of all the different classes/routines, ours had the ugliest fucking outfits that were the most unslutty, i will dig you up a photo one day, and because of this i felt slighted, all the other girls were wearing one-piece leotards and bikini type things with shortie shorts and we were wearing crappy blue overalls made from a table cloth and red/white checked shirts with red sequins around the collar and red ribbons in our pigtails.
capital GAY.
there was one particular group who were THE BARBIES, their theme was THE BARBIES and they were dressed as barbies, wearing exercise garbage circa 80s wtf?
anyway i was by myself standing behind them and i’m kind of in a daze cos that afternoon after the first performance during the lunch break between the second show, i was busting out some moves at a pub with my friend and my fist came into contact with a waitress and her overstacked tray and sent shit flying EVERYWHERE (in hindsight it is funny cos i drink at this bar now and fil worked there in 1998) so yeah i’m bumming from that and i’m all by myself cos a lot of dancers fuck off with their families and skip the finale so i’m stage right listening to these barbie girls shit-talk some other girl in their class. they are the same age as me and they declare that this one girl who had kissed 2 boys was a HOOKER and then the girl they were s-talking joins them and they gush all over her.
the “hooker” looked pretty innocent to me and was ten times prettier than the girls shit-bagging her and right then and there i realised that i will never be for real friends with girls and if i do i will never fucking trust them.
for the most part the bitches ignored me cos 1. i was dressed like a pile of white trash and 2. i was basically comatose standing up, leaning against the wall and picking at it (this community centre had this really weird wall material that if you pull off one weavy part you can pull out huge portions of it in one go and everyone fucking did it, it was the best). so these girls didn’t realise i had heard everything they said about the “hooker” girl and when we were called to hit the stage they looked back at me and it dawned on them that i knew, and they KNEW that i knew everything they said.
i raised my eyebrows and pursed my lips in a smug way and didn’t say anything.
i never forgot that moment when out of the one girl’s mouth she declared her friend was a hooker and i wanted to say you know, a hooker has sex for money and i highly doubt that your 9 year old friend does that, but i didn’t i was too dumbfounded by the audacity of this bitch’s conclusion and jealousy.
tune in tomorrow for when i go into long boring detail about how fil DOES NOT support me and i reference everyime i have already addressed this fact before I SWEAR I WANT TO KILL YOU FUCKERS YOU MAKE ME MENTAL.
last week i bought a nice christmassy package of white chocolate covered marshmallows, i know, yum. in theory. however, they were more like un-yum, not in theory. i don’t know what the hell i was thinking, one easter many moons ago i ate an entire white chocolate bunny and then vomitted all over the tv room carpet at my grandparents.
this is the part where i make a white supremacist joke.
anyway, i forced the kkk candies (hah) on fil and he brought them to work and left them on a co-worker’s desk. this dude always has candy and snacks and treats so all day long fil gets to spy on everyone snacking and makes little pie graphs and measures statistics on people’s habits. the white chocolate marshmallows are not a favourite and i am not surprised.
i gave fil half a bag of bbq fritos i purchased on a drunken whim a couple month’s back cos we were mindlessly ploughing through it and they weren’t very good and every time i put one in my mouth my thighs and ass multiplied by ten. the bag was finished by the end of the work day and fil had to listen to everyone’s crunching.
me: are the marshmallows gone yet
Phil: um… no there are about a third left
me: ew my stomache just rollercoastered
Phil: yes i am starving but even still i wont touch em
