No Computer, No Problem!

Maybe my computer broke and I haven't been writing as many tasty blogs for my 14 followers (including myself) to chew on... maybe. However, before you start calling me unmotivated, there is someone who only writes a blog 4 times a year and it's always disappointing to one of my followers because the writer doesn't mention me- ever. Maybe. So, I could be worse... I could barely be writing and talking about myself even less- how would that feel?! Maybe.

My computer up and left, just like my parents. Only thing is, there is no State of Oregon to raise me now. There is no foster computer and what happens? I start reading more and taking French lessons again. I've also been out of the house more, making friends and using their computer... kind of like how I ate all the neighbor's food before the state started feeding me.

Is this a sad blog? Am I sad? Nope, J' ai faim, so I should go get a sandwich! Okay, I'm back and now that I am filled with sandwich (I never left), I am really going to start producing some notable paragraphs. Yep, up until I stood up to go eat that pretend food, I was just wasting time, now I am a machine- pumping out observations everyone can relate to; Most importantly, Rachel. As long as my sweet friend, who bought my movie ticket (SATC2) can relate... who cares?

Being a single, or (depending on my self-esteem) "focused" gal in San Francisco can be tough. I haven't really been looking at all, but one reader was for awhile and she bought me groceries once. I am all together disinterested in dating, but I should probably consider it because I think my vagina might grow back together and I could forget how to kiss.

NEWS

If you stop dating/ being intimate for more than 4.5 months, you forget how to kiss and even worse, you vomit in mouths of people who try to resuscitate your hopeless attempts at finding a counterpoint.

TRUE STORY

I had a fellow call me his "counterpoint" once. I thought he was joking and I loved him for his sense of humor. However, in retrospect he was a hacky romantic and I vomited in my cervix a little thinking about that, baring me from ever having red-headed children. I hope he doesn't read this (he wont), because I think he is an interesting person, but sometimes I think he may just be contrived... In case he is reading this, I should let you know that a penis shouldn't look like that. gross.

ANOTHER STORY

I had a friend who ran into an ex of mine recently... it's actually a really funny story that I will tell you tomorrow, Rachel (SATC2!!!) and the ex said "yeah, she wants me dead," in reference to being asked if he were my ex. I don't want him dead. I think that he is honestly just a bread sandwich soaking up the vomit of his new girlfriend, who purged an actual sandwich all over his useless, moldy body... because she is bulimic and he doesn't have a clue. I don't like him, that doesn't mean I want him dead. He was inconsiderate of me in a way that was so hurtful, I couldn't ever want to be his friend again. However, instead of saying "yeah, I'm her ex" and being accountable for his own behavior, he somehow placed himself in a power seat of being "wanted for dead". Like he were Butch Cassidy- hey Butch- fuck you! Sex and the City is in theaters and I am going to see it tomorrow with Rachel and Aiden's back, so there couldn't be a ill-will in my entire, glorious body. Enjoy having herpes, Butch Cassidy, I'm having Red Vines.


So, no computer, no problems. Just evolving over here.

Robin Hood, Meet Carrie Bradshaw, Carrie Bradshaw, Meet AIDEN

I went shopping and after that, went to see Robin Hood, because the weather was beautiful and I should be cutting back on spending. Seems resistance has gotten it's evil hand on my hand and is just sliding my bank card around like it were Carrie Bradshaw at Dolce and Gabbana... DID I JUST SAY "AROUND"? I did and eventually, I will get around to the point.

I sat through a movie that got me to thinking how funny it would be if they (movie industry) tricked everyone in the movie theater by showing a feature that NEVER ended (much like the headliners of most black comedy shows)... like a 6 hour movie, but you don't know about it until it's too late. The last Lord of the Rings felt like that to me, could have been the farts around me or my father next to me, but either way- I wanted to go home (fuck the Shire!).

Robin Hood was okay, but not nearly as exciting as the preview before it for Sex and the City 2: Return of Aiden. YOU HEARD ME!!! He's back! I don't know how either, because last we saw him (Season 5) he was with child (in a Baby Bjorn, no less). It seems there is some trouble in the marriage of Carrie and Big (no surprise there- have you seen his eyebrows?) and all the other ladies are getting past the age where sexy is appropriate (Blanch Deveroe anyone?), so they are heading East... and being that they live in New York City, that can only mean one thing: Long Island! or...
Abu Dhabi... Hmmm, I get two confused. It's very odd to have trouble in the paradise that is: Carrie and Big, but you add the torrential rain of Aiden showing up in the Middle East and you've got a disaster that would make the incidents in Chile and Haiti look like Katrina (so 2005, I know!)!

I have to work Friday morning, but I'm thinking about quitting so I could go see this movie. or something. I don't think this is the best blog ever, but someone is sitting next to me telling me how bored she is and my computer is broken, so her state of being is relevant, because this is her computer (and apartment). However, we BOTH have Aiden Fever and will be curing it this weekend (I hope)!

PS
I can't believe Aiden is Back!

Date Rape Brownie

You ever think "I wish there were some way I could feel out of control without hurting anyone but myself."?

Eating Pot.

Let me just tell you- I didn't know I was in for anything but a snack, but the freezer had other plans. I was cat sitting for a friend and I wanted to eat some food I didn't pay for, so I went to the freezer and saw brownies (my 7th favorite!). I don't smoke pot, in fact I hate it, but you know what they say "heart disease is the leading cause of death among men over the age of 60?" no... the other thing: You are what you hate/ eat. I really didn't know what was to happen to me.

I was a pot brownie... Now I am a tortilla chip.

7 Hours In The Life Of Pot Brownie (an internal dialouge)

Oh boy, it's tough being brownie... kept in the freezer... I can't worry about that now, my head is disconnected from my gooey center and I'm clearly at room temperature. It's like I am a million delicious particles... what was that?! Where am I? I better get off the phone because I don't know what this person is saying "who is this?" oh yeah, hope he doesn't take that wrong... what just flew by me?! Oh- it's a chair... good, it's not moving. wow... wait... what am I holding? "hello?"... "who is this?" I gotta get to the couch. I'll just set my phone in this glass of water. Water is weird... woah, but it's everywhere. I wonder if there is a joke to that. No time now... what time is it? what does '3 o' clock' mean? I better stand up if I'm ever going to walk again [laughs]. I'm not even hungry, maybe I should do some yoga...

ONE HOUR LATER

why can't I eat almond butter and tortilla chips? It's so good... there is nothing else to eat... I've never eaten cat, but it sounds like a lot of work. I don't know if I will ever poop again. Batman makes a good point... What ever happened to women being so stupid in movies? Oh god... I wonder if I overlooked something in the cupboard... tahini? maybe with some maple syrup... oh yeah- I need some more chips.

END SCENE

Seriously, I can't talk about it anymore. It was the worst thing ever. So many of my peers enjoy pot, I tried to enjoy it, but it's a lot like being that one guy in a gang bang who really wishes women respected themselves more. I came up with a lot of useless ideas and ate my own weight in condiments; conversation scared me. I walked 5 miles home at midnight just to give my digestive system the upper hand in it's slow road to recovery. It's still mad at me. I can't believe I dated someone who did this all the time. I have to explain to my friend what I did now... which is not embarrassing... unless she asks me about her freezer burnt Mochi... then, it's pretty embarrassing.

Anyway, here's a video about it:

Bobby Brown Bear Catches Another Tuna

Bobby Brown is getting remarried.

Bobby Brown is getting married and I have gotten 65 accumulative views on my Youtube channel. Bobby Brown has publicly depicted himself as himself and I am afraid people will find my on-line blog.

Bobby Brown should be married... if one person should be married, it should be him. It shouldn't be me, though... I am working too hard on my own thing and marriage, well it would just Bobby Brown everything up. I am going to start referring to all of my exes as "Bobby Brown", because that's my prerogative ... the irony is that they were all white, most of them poor and there was a very constant pussy lineage between them. Apparently my balls are so big there is only room for one pair. If I were to date the actual Bobby Brown, I bet we would just laugh a lot and pick bar fights with young, white women.

ME: Hey Bobby! Look at this bitch, thinking she's all skinny and shit...

BOBBY: She's skinny, like a boy- boys in dresses make me want to slap a bitch.

ME: No, Bobby! One more strike on your record... I'll slap her!

BOBBY: Let's fuck in the bathroom before the cops get here.

ME: Give me a piggy back ride!

END SCENE

So, I am almost positive the next sentence will be relative. I don't like the way that waif-ish girl is lingering at the counter where my coffee boy crush is working. A really hairy man just walked in... I hope he mistakes her for a Koho Salmon and starts attacking her squirmy body. I love my gender-sisters, except when they encroach on my territory... then I get all Bobby Brown on a bitch. Bobby Brown is getting married and I am barely producing a blog. To my defense, I have been creating in a different medium... on my Youtube channel (http://www.youtube.com/user/abbeyjordancomedy). You can get a sneak peak here. I should warm you that I have a lot of imagined repartee and often times people are subjected to my fantasies, unbeknown to them. I don't want to seem all Bobby Brown or anything.

Bobby Brown, getting remarried. Good for them.

Hearts In My Lattes.

This gal is making it a point to go out more... I went salsa dancing last night and didn't do too bad. It was a bit difficult with my boundary issues, assuming everyone who salsa dances is poor doesn't help, either. Poor people make me itch and when money is tight on my end, being inside of me is very uncomfortable... for me, not anyone else, because my boundary issues have made it nearly impossible for me to have anyone on top of me. There is a price to pay to ride this pussy train and it can't be paid in monetary form, not even tokens... it has to be "love".

Let's just say I have lied to myself on more than one occasion (I love fucking!), but despite my faults, I still feel disheartened when it turns out the person on top of me doesn't care about me... which is why I sleep with him one last time, because he needs to know what good feels like and I need to know what love doesn't feel like... that and who knows when I will have sex again?! It's been almost two weeks now and the bonding affects are wearing off from the last person I will probably never talk to again.

I am at a coffee shop where I have had a bit of a flirtation with a fellow I am sure has a drinking problem (he's so dreamy). However, today he was sitting outside (off-duty) and inside was an even HUNKIER bag of tall dark and handsome. There is one similarity: they both leave hearts in my lattes- HEARTS! I don't know where you come from, but where I come from (3rd grade), that is a BIG deal. The only question is: do they want marriage and stuff? How do I present this question?

Ideas:

"Excuse me, I couldn't help but notice you love me... is there anybody else here you love too?"

[Pointing to latte] "So you love me, that's a lot more than my parents did... do you want to be a parent?"

"If this is going to work, you are going to have to have more ambitions than working here... what's your 5 year plan?"

END

If I decide to take the direct approach, I will use one of those three examples. If I decide to be passive (always a GREAT idea), I could just stand at the counter all day as women come up and order lattes and watch the tops of their drinks. If I see a fucking heart on a drink other than mine... there are a couple of options:

1)
HIM: [handing over latte hearts]
ME: [sighing loudly] Oh yeah, like that will work! If that's what you want buddy, go for it...

2)
HIM: [handing over latte hearts]
ME: [slamming fist] Are you fucking crazy?! There is no way you're getting out of that without an STD... wait, do you have an STD?

3)
HIM: [handing over latte hearts]
ME: [gently looking into his eyes] You are going to mature emotionally, someday and when you do, you will look back at me, at us; you will remember how great I was, how I challenged you and loved you. You will regret throwing it away on this vapid, emaciated girl with herpes. I'm going to go honor myself now.

END

Until I figure out the exact approach I am to take with my future husband(s), I will continue turning down poor people on the bus. My friend and I were dressed up for salsa dancing last night. We were sitting on the back of the bus, minding our own- beautiful business, when two meaty men sat in front of us with a pizza and a 2-liter of generic orange soda. They made no effort to show discretion as they blatantly stared at my breasts, gyrating to the rhythm of poorly maintained roads. It was so uncomfortable, I tried to deter them by tucking my chin, crossing my eyes and loudly saying "I have to go poo poo!". Let's just say if they showed that much determination in school, they wouldn't be so poor right now! I will continue to avoid low-cut shirts as much as possible.

FOR REALS, END.