Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Seriously....who buys this??

Because I am ALL about providing hard hitting informative blogs...stop laughing...I am bringing this latest sampling of my take on what's being sold in the wee hours of the night. 

You looking to get rid of that turkey neck?

Wanna pump up your booty??

Thinking of new ways to sculpt and tone your upper arms and make sure that they aren't waving good-bye when you are trying to say "hello gorgeous"???

Well fear no more my wonderful friends.  There are a gaggle of jacklegs just praying that you are asking these questions and many more about your appearance.  And they have spent gads of time and money cooking up a slew of items praying on your susceptibility to idiotic products that are thrown on your television at 3 o'clock in the morning.

Sometimes it's the promise of "quick results", other times it's the lure of that $19.99 price tag but more so I believe it is the exhaustion of your capacity to process realistic thoughts.  Yep, in the span of just 45 minutes during another one of my sleepless nights I saw not one, not two, but three asinine infomercials for products such as the Neck Slimmer, the Brazilian Butt Lift workout system and the Shake Weight.

After each one I had to think...what's the draw?  Sadly, my thought process should have been "what's the catch" but seriously...I'm exhausted and the fact that I am actually able to string together two lucid thoughts is beyond triumphant for me.  So I decided to do a little research...yep, that's me...bored to death caring about you guys, my readers.

Well with the butt sculpter, if you call within the next 5 minutes you will get a....wait for it...make sure you're seated...a pencil.  Yep.  A whole pencil. 

Really?  REALLY a whole pencil??  Holy shit...let me drop what I am doing right this minute and make sure I get in on that little piece of gravity defying technology. 

These people probably held a meeting to put together this deal and most likely went through a checklist of what would be in their "package". 

Brazilian Butt Jackleg #1 Umm, okay...so we've got the 3 DVD's, the fat burning food plan, the booty resistance band and a tape measure.  It just feels like it's missing something don't you think?

Brazilian Butt Jackleg #2:  Gosh #1...I don't know.  All that seems like a great deal for the $59.85 price point we are shooting for.  How could we POSSIBLY make it better??

Brazilian Butt Jackleg #1:  I just feel like it needs something else (fidgets with the pencil in his hand and then makes a face as though he's had his very own Oprah "ah ha" moment)  Do you think we should throw in a pencil? 

Brazilian Butt Jackleg #2:  Wow...that is such a good question.  But what would they use it for and would we need to increase the price?

Brazilian Butt Jackleg #1:  They'd use the pencil to shove in the fat crease that is on their flabby asses to see if they have accomplished the toned butt that we have photo shopped onto the pamphlet as the "AFTER" result image.   And we won't raise the price...this pencil will be an added bonus!

---Boardroom errupts in cheers as if they have cured cancer---

Oh, and FYI it isn't even sharpened.  Probably did that for legal purposes because if you are stupid enough to purchase this product then I'd be willing to bet that you'd be stupid enough to shove a sharpened pencil near your ass!

Also, I went a step further and contacted the customer service number (because I honestly have nothing better to do at this hour) and asked if I could have a discount on my purchase because I already have my own pencil.  The customer service rep seemed flabbergasted that I would even suggest such an absurd thing.  Yeah, right...like I am the moron in this situation. 

This person is trying to tell me that their pencil is made specifically for the purpose of checking your progress.  Uh huh...so you mean to tell me that there is a corporation...somewhere...that is making pencils for the sole purpose of checking if you have a flabby ass?  Dear God, please let Chris Hanson from Dateline do an expose on this!

I finally gave up on the pencil fight and hung up on the slightly hyperventilating customer service rep whose name was Tawny and who I imagine was a stripper at one time but who injured herself with a sharpened pencil and now has to do this thankless job.

Next on my list of ridiculous items is the Neck Slimmer.  Granted you don't get a pencil with this little gem but at $19.99 it seems like a steal compared to the butt deal.  The first observation on this product other than the overwhelming urge to scream out "are you FUCKING kidding me" is that you get the added bonus of looking like you're giving a BJ with no partner on the receiving end.  Hell you could save yourself the money and do the real act and not only please your partner but also probably hopefully get the same result of a toned neck.  Plus my way offers the possibility of a full on sexual romp therfore allowing you to burn calories, killing two workouts with one effort.

You're Welcome Men of America!

Last on my list of items is the Shake Weight.  Another reasonably priced piece of ridiculousness at $19.95.  My immediate reaction to this commercial was how sexual it seems.  Maybe it's my lack of intimate moments as of late but it just looked like one huge phallic free for all!  It cemented in my mind why men should NOT be allowed to create any type of workout equipment to tone or improve the female physique, especially if it's gonna come out looking like a prop for a porno.

I don't know for sure that these items were created by a male or team of them but I have a pretty strong sneaking suspicion that there is at least one pair of nuts behind each of those items.

Well to each their own.  While I may not get the drawl that these products hold I don't have time to think about it right now because I've gotta go use my Thigh Master and wait for my Perfect Brownie's to finish baking. 


Saturday, January 16, 2010

Well that's just the crazy talking....

I really truly hate being sick.  I think I spend so much time being sick that I've probably forgot how the hell it feels to live my life healthy.  I've coughed and hacked.  Slept and sweated.  I've medicated and medicated and medicated some more and now I'm just plain pooped.  My taste buds are shot and the only things that sound mildly appetizing to me on a continuous basis are freezy pops and saltine crackers.  Both of which I have to fight Penny for.  Damn dog.  I swear she doesn't get the fact that she is, in fact...a dog...and NOT a person.  I'm probably a lot to blame for that but seriously I have never met a dog that is more like a person than this one. 

Today I managed to sleep my way through another 24 hour cycle of life but I woke with the most horrific panic.  It was raining.  It was dark and Jon was not here like he was supposed to be.  I flipped.  It was a rainy night almost 19 years ago that my family life was changed forever, so things like this get to me.

I have a spot on my chin that was a pimple that turned into a boo boo because I can't seem to stop picking and fidgeting with things and so I had to have it covered with a bandaid and neosporin in hopes of letting it heal.  It had done a pretty good job of healing until today when I woke to find that Jon had not appeared at the time that he said he would.  In 15 minutes I managed to mangle the newly healing flesh.

When Jon did appear and explained his tardiness the first thing he noticed is the area on my chin.  He was not pleased and immediately questioned why I did it.

Jon:  Jessica did you pick at your chin?

Me:  Maybe.

Jon:  Maybe as in yes?

Me:  Ok...yes.  But it's only because I get anxious.

Jon:  We have got to find something else for you to do when you get anxious.

Me:  I've tried but I always resort to picking at or fidgeting with something.

....and here is where Jon felt that he was having a pure stroke of genius....

Jon:  Well maybe from now on when you are nervous you can just give me a hand job!  Problem solved.

Me:  I don't know...I get anxious a lot.

Jon:  Sounds okay by me.

Me:  Just one problem.

Jon:  Yeah, what's that?

Me:  Chaffing.

I'd like to say that this deterred him.  Instead it sent him into a fit of laughter.  Men!


Saturday, January 9, 2010

This...that...and my mother

I had thought that I was on the upward swing of this bronchitis crap.  Apparently life and my body decided to bitch slap me back to reality and I had the night from hell.  I had gone to have a belated birthday celebration with one of my dear friends.  It was all cheese fries, gallon of daquiri's (with 6 extra shots) and "The Hangover".  Oh, yeah...I forgot to mention that we are both sick as fucking dogs.  Yep, we are the two ra-tards that decided traipsing around in 20 degree weather without appropriate winter gear was a swell idea ALL in the name of fashion.  We are both mother's too and that means we are influencing the youth of America.  Be afraid...be very VERY afraid.

Anyways, in light of our being basically poor but still wanting to celebrate another birthday we decided to not infect the whole of the world by going out for dinner and drinks and instead just kept it casual and simple.  As usual we had a blast but even while we were at the store buying supplies for the cheese fries I could tell that I wasn't feeling so good.  Midway through the movie both of us were wiggling around and generally not in our usual perky moods.  The movie ended and I scooted on home. 

It was straight to bed for me.  The days of being able to bounce back from illnesses, even ones that come with shots in the rear in order to get ya back in fighting form, are getting fewer and far between.  I got into p.j.'s, medicated myself and attempted to sleep.  That was NOT gonna be an easy task.  I started to feel like I was drowning when I would lay flat.  When I would prop myself up to get rid of the drowning sensation I would have an excruciating pain in my neck.  I'd begin to feel really hot then freezing cold.  After about 30 minutes of turning round and round in the bed I got up.

I contemplated watching television.  But I was sooooo tired.  I thought about getting on the computer and writing but the only thoughts that were filling my head were how much it hurt to breath and how flippin tired I was.   For your sake, my readers, I chose to spare you from that torturous hell.

When I finally did fall asleep I had the most realistic dream about my mother.

She's been on my mind a lot lately.  I don't get to see my parents nearly enough.  I used to spend the days of my youth trying to figure out how to get as far as possible away from them.  Now that I've grown up and I'm in the middle of one of the hardest moments of my life thus far, all I seem to do is think of her and how I wish she were here near me.

The recent news of her issues with diabetes and how she now has to be on insulin injections and is having diminished visions makes those feelings of wanting to be close to her so much stronger.  The fact that my mother and I can, at times, be the exact same side of a coin.  I don't know about you but me I used to tell myself, daily if not minute by minute "I refuse to be anything like my mother".  It's not that she isn't a good person, because truth be told she is wonderful.  Big heart.  Kind and full of spirit.  Funny as all hell and loves to find beauty in the most simple of things.  She can bring any plant to life and people gravitate to her like she's a goddamn magnet. 

I guess I am just the typical woman who has to deal with her mother issues.  You always see things in your parents that you want to do the exact opposite of.  I made those observations when I was like 5 and carried them with me to this day.  Sadly most of the shit that I said that I wouldn't do...yep, you guessed it...I've gone right on and done it.  Way to be original.

I'd love to say that I haven't made a few shrinks rich off of my mother issues, but why lie. 

So last night or more truthfully this morning, in a cold medicine induced haze, I had a dream about my mother owning an antique shop.  It was run out of the bottom floor of this gigantic craftsman style home that I've never seen before but now can't seem to stop thinking about.

It was an extremely bizarre dream filled with people from all throughout my life.  There were customers that were my old classmates from high school and a delivery driver that was one of my old bosses.  To say that it was crazy would have been the understatement of the year.  And I know that we are only 9 days in thus far but still it was some weird stuff. 

When I finally woke up today, at the sad hour of like 2p, it was to the sound of my mom calling me on the phone.  Apparently her mothering beacon had homed in on the fact that her oldest child was sick and so she had to reach out and telephonically touch me.  I talked for a few short minutes before I told her that I just wanted to go back to sleep and I've been going in and out of it since then.

It's not overly exciting but that's what is going on in the world of me.


Friday, January 8, 2010

33 is looking a lot like 32 and 31 and 30....

I spent my 33rd birthday getting shot in the ass by a not so attractive, even if I was into female, nurse.  My doctor exclaimed in semi physician humor that this was the "third...oh wait...2007, 2008, 2009...it is 2010 now...huh...well then scratch third and make that fourth year in a row I have seen you on or within days of your birthday?" 

Thanks for the history lesson Rain Man...that was positively shocking.

So I started my day being pronounced as having bronchitis and in need of two...not one...two, because well it's my Birthday and apparently the universe hates me...and it probably isn't nice of a patient to look at their doctor as if they are speaking a foreign language when they are "attempting" doctor patient humor...so I got two shots in the rear.  The trip wasn't all bad though.  My good friend "Plus2" was kind enough to cart my sick ass to the doctors office because sadly I couldn't turn my neck.  What is that you say?  Did you think you may have read that wrong?  Well, you didn't....by now....even if you have only been reading this blog since I started it on here and don't personally know me, you should know this one true and simple fact...IT IS PHYSICALLY IMPOSSIBLE FOR ME TO JUST GET A NORMAL FUCKING ILLNESS!

I'm pretty sure that I had H1N1 before it was actually given a name.  Some people get a cold.  Me I end up with pneumonia, but not just that I end up with a bacterial inflamation that spreads into the joints and muscles in my chest and then begins to attack my heart.  Do you see how this works?

Yep, just a mere 9 hours into my new age and I had become arthritic and contagious.  What a fucking gift?

But my friend...my Driving Mrs. Sick Ass companion...she made me laugh.  Hell, she ALWAYS finds a way to make me laugh.  She offered to get me ice cream since I was a "good patient" but seeing as it was barely 10am I figured ice cream would be hard to come by.  Strangely enough if I had wanted an alcoholic beverage of some sort, like a daquiri per say, I could have gotten that...but ice cream?  Yeah...that wasn't gonna be happening.  I settled instead for a slushy (for my aching throat) and some breakfast so I could choke down the horse pill of an anti-biotic that he prescribed. 

Oh yes...my day was gonna be pure joy...I could just feel it.  I could feel it aching in my ass.  Yep, right there stinging and burning like acid shot into my deriere is where I could feel it.  Man, those shots, while they didn't hurt when she did them, happened to have a delayed release of pain that hit just as we were making our way out of the office and into the car.  I just kept laughing and almost crying saying "God damn....my ass, my ass is killing me".  Then I'd begin to hack because my throat was also in serious pain which would cause some hideous tickle which then led to fits of epileptic coughing. 

I paint such a pretty picture.

After I was able to recompose myself from these fits I would fall into a contstant stream of saying I'm sorry over and over again as I mentally pictured her going home and lysoling the entire interior of her car and possibly giving herself a Silkwood scrub.

Friends will tell you to get better when you are sick.  Good friends will call to check on you.  Great friends will drive you to the doctors and help you get your medicine.  Kick ass friends will do all of the above and smile at you while you hack what is sure to be some kind of bio hazard all over their vehicle.

This friend...she falls squarely in the latter.

I looked and sounded like death warmed over, but with the exception of when I had to breathe deeply, swallow, cough or attempt to move my neck I felt fantastic.

By the time we pulled back into my driveway I was exhausted from the escapade of the morning.  I made my way in to the house, scooped up Penny and then realized what a retarded idea that was seeing as I was holding food and this dog is clearly a fiend of anything that doesn't have the words dog or kibble in it.  It was like a Wimbledon match where I moved food from one hand to the other trying to keep it out of her line of snout grabbing.  Her head would dart from left to right and back in a twisted attempt to get something.  Anything.  Finally when I was down to my last bite I tore off a piece of the toast and fed it to her.  She scarfed it up and then looked at me like, "you bitch...that's ALL...that is ALL I get....oh yeah, yawn...go to sleep.  I am so taking a dump on your head when you reach the REM state".

I mean that might not be a literal translation of what was going on in her little doggy mind but I think it's a pretty good rendering.

I'd like to say that I slept well but truth be told I just kept rolling around opening my eyes every so often to make sure she wasn't positioning her butt just right to take perfect aim.  I mean I know I have been shit on in the past few years, but that was in emotional terms.  This would really stink.  And I meant that pun.

Thankfully she held her bowels.  I think she can sense the cold weather coming and figures she can't be too sure that I won't stick her boney ass out in the cold as punishment for that infraction.  She's shit on me in the past but I let it slide because she was sick or just come off her death bed.  Just deciding to dump on me because I wouldn't share my tots....well that is grounds for emotional torture of the highest degree.

I'm hopeful that with my shots and goody bag full of medicine that I will be back to fighting form in time to go get my belated Birthday drank on with my girlfriends.  I may have hit a hiccup as I turned the page from 32 to 33, but I'm not going to allow it to be a continuing trend. 

Oh and hear me now, if by some cruel twist of fate I end up sick AGAIN next year, at...on...or around my birthday, ummmm, I'm not going to the doctors.  No way.  No how.  The cycle stops here at 33.


P.S. And to ALL of my wonderful friends, readers and FB friends...thank you sooooo much for the Birthday love and well wishes.  That was one thing that made this year significantly different than the last few.

P.P.S.  To my "T" and my "D"...you are two of the three best friends that anyone could ever have...that anyone could ever have...that anyone could ever have."