Sometimes coming up with cleaver catch-titles is hard. Read on... Okay, so my day so far:
Our Bengali farraj (dude who delivers beverages – “coffee boy” is just too derogatory) is catching on to my humor now. He walks in my office in the morning and says, “What would you like, Madame?” and I usually answer with something to the effect of, “A house, a Ferrari, an airplane, and some ice cream.” This morning, he immediately shot back, “I mean to DRINK.” He’s sounding just like family now! I love that.
My Chairhole (chairman) asked me to accompany him to a meeting yesterday which I really had very little to do with. In a peripheral way, I could have been included maybe in an e-mail. Anyhoo, long-story-short; had I been a flat-chested brunette, he never would have invited me to attend. All I have to do at these brilliantly-executed meetings is to sit there and smile. If I do actually have something to say, Chairhole looks at me as if I had just kicked his child or something. Jeez. I DO have an IQ… its 165. Chairhole!!! I guess he can’t see my IQ over my boobs!... I’m up heeeeeeeere.
The Tale of Two Men: The Romanian (AKA “Amoona”) and I went on a double date with one of my dilemma men last night. (Yes, I’m still in beta testing.) He is very nice, but I have concluded that he’s not my type; maybe as a friend. This was the younger of the two guys and the rich one.
Why is it that I always choose the least rich guy? My late step-mother used to say (you have to say this in a Southern accent), “Honey, it’s just as easy to marry a rich man as it is a poor one.” (Why did she end up with my dad???) Uh no. I disagree. I think that the rich ones come with a lot of extra baggage; ergo so do I because I am always wondering if he his always wondering if I’m after him for his money. I can’t relax because I don’t want to give dude the wrong impression – or, God forbid – to accept an expensive gift and worry what he will think of me. Why did my mother ingrain all these morals??? I hate that. I mean, it is pretty-much-okay to be promiscuous, as long as you don’t accept an expensive gift. That seems so irrational. Why can’t I do both? Don't worry, be happy and all that crap.
Anyhoo, I’ll let you know how things progress with #2 (who has actually moved into #1 now).
I bought cheap stuff from Electrozan.... I now refer to it as “Electroshit”. Ok, ok, ok…. I know what you are going to say: you get what you pay for. Perhaps that is true. It was in this case. Garbage in, garbage out; but I thought it would at least last for a week. The bookshelf stereo broke within an hour of installing; the surround sound (but it looks so cuuuuuuuuuute) isn’t actually surround (sounds worse than my TV speakers); and the DVD thingy didn’t work at all. They sent a technician to work on it for 2 hours and they admitted they didn’t know what they were doing, so another one is supposed to come tonight. I’m so perturbed. My building hariss, Khalid, came up and shook his head at me. Imagine that! My Saeedi harriss tsk-tsking me for buying Chinese and not American. What is the world coming to? Do people not realize that most things from America are made in China/Taiwan? Look at the label. You know – I blame Bunny. He was too busy to go with me to the store and help me install all the stuff. Anyhoooo, I’m so pissed off about the whole thing that I am going to INVEST in a Bose system after my vacation (I say that with the full knowledge that I will be paying off bills from my vacation after my vacation…).
Hey – THIS year during my vacation to see my family: at least I don’t have to worry about my fiancé running off to Thailand to frolick with 10 year old virgin girls (or whatever else he was up to). Happy ending? I wonder how he feels about his phuckin’ “happy ending” now!!! (And just so you know, Hamad – THREE other men have asked me if they can please come with me to the US to meet my family.) Thailand! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING? Last year, Hamad went to Thailand while I was in DC at the same time as Mark Karr was arrested in Thailand for the rape/murder of Jonbennet Ramsey. My whole family knew that Hamad was in Thailand and the first thing they said to me was, “Is he some kind of a pervert?” Happy ending, my ass. I give the best massages in the whole world and I bet you’re missing them now, eh?
Anyhoooo… Purgatory refuses to write anything meaningful on his blog about me and yet if I don’t write about him in every single posting that he gets very upset (he is so narcissistic). So, as I am writing about my ass and perverts and all things dirty (not that my ass is dirty)… I shall use his name. Purgy.
Slapperella is going to Indonesia with Z this week. The Romanian and I are already wondering if she’ll come back pregnant (we’ve secretly been thinking of baby names for her – we might even go to Mothercare to see what is available as a gift). It is going to be a romantic trip…. You never know… The boy is fertile and has a track record to prove it. You never know…. It might just be lucky 7…. (Sorry, Slaps, but if you want to retaliate you either have to create your own blog or start commenting creatively to mine.) I sent Slapperella some flowers this week on behalf of The Romanian and I to congratulate her on her tremendous accomplishment of completing one year into her masters degree: it was a beautiful bouquet of roses… that she would have loved… but I have once again maxed my credit card and the order was rejected. Today is Tuesday, she leaves tomorrow on vacation and so it is too late to get flowers now. The moment is passed, but hey! It’s the thought that counts, right? Love you, girl and I’m so proud of you for working so hard (but at the same time secretly feeling rejected because we don’t see you as often as we used to and we miss you so much). Well, she’ll come back pregnant and then we’ll never see her at all (I don't do baby parties and all that kid nonsense)….
Me, I prefer to practice. I just can’t mate in captivity.