Monday, February 27, 2006

Math dorks.

If you respect yourself as little as I do, you will think this is funny. If you respect yourself more than I do, you probably aren't my friend and therefore aren't reading my blog.

I recommend listening to 'Finite Simple Group' under the Media tab...hysterical. And totally dorky.

Support these their cd. They need all the money they can get...otherwise they will never get a date.
70 days donut-free.

Donuts are my addiction and one great love. Hi, my name is Christy and I am addicted to donuts.

From the desk of Kate:

I love donuts. I love donuts so much. Especially white frosted with sprinkles.

Friday, February 24, 2006

Top 13 Greatest Nights EVER (I assume the list will be ever changing, so check back for updates):

Note: It has been brought to my attention that there is no way that these nights could be the best nights EVER, seeing as how they don't center around 'the best thing ever' (make your assumptions). My response to that comment is that the list that revolves around 'the best thing ever' is an entirely different list and will not be posted on my blog because my mom reads it, and that's just wierd. That's not to say that 'the best thing ever' didn't happen on any of these nights, it's just saying that the night would have been great regardless of whether or not I scored (hard to believe, I know). Go team.

10. Thanksgiving break, freshman year in college: The time when I felt the need to jump into bed with my parents. This event was preceeded by a trip to Have a Nice Day Cafe where Ian's brother served me many many fishbowls of booze.

9. Sometime my junior year in high school: The night when me, Ben, Ian and that annoying girl Cassie drank tequila shots in the road in front of Ian's house. Went home and mom wanted me to help her paint. Ouch.

8. January 2006: Mullet Night at the Aeros, followed by Mullet Day at St. Arnolds and The Wet Spot. 3,000 people in Joe Dirt wigs - can life get better? I submit that it cannot. More pictures of the moo-lay can be found on my picture gallery...

7. Decemeber 22, 2005: BRI Christmas Party 2005. Thanks for the booze, Lino. You really helped a sista out that night!!

6. Feb 2005: Kate's birthday party at the Gallant Knight. Drinking, dancing and fabulous music. Kate sang "Kiss" for us, even though she didn't know the words. Ian's tab came up to $0...even though we all somehow got sufficiently wasted.

5.5 At some point my first senior year in college: Maggies Date Party with Gilmore. We had the bowling alley rented out and the theme was western. Screw that western theme, I wore a taffeta full length skirt with a Christmas tree on it. Gil and I bought a deck of cards at the gas station and played War instead of bowling...which proved to be much more conducive to our drinking of the beers. Somebody dropped us off at our homes. I think Gil ended the evening hiding under the hammock giggling waiting for his girlfriend to find him.

5. March 2004: My 23rd birthday...1 of 2 good birthday celebrations. We were the only people in the Hole in the Wall, so they let us play Green Day's "Dookie" over and over again. We pretended the table was a drum. Erik kicked a man out of the bathroom.

4.5. March 2004: My 21st birthday...the other good birthday celebration. We were in Austin for a dance convention, and by dance convention, I mean, we had to dance for 8 hours the day after my 21st birthday...starting at 8am. So, we went out. My best pals, Ben and Bez, took me out on the town. Great times were had by all...especially when Sara and I woke up in the morning, put on our leotards and realized we had email addresses written on our stomachs. Ballet that morning did not go as well as planned.

4. Sometime my 1st senior year of college: Northgathalon. 16 hours of Northgate. We had a drink at every establishment on Northgate and its surrounding bars. Then I punched a guy in the face.

3. August 2003: Drink Houston for the Houston Hottest Mom Contest. Got into a fight with the father of one of the women about who the hottest girl was. Gross.

2. August 2004: Drink Houston for Aggie Happy Hour. I danced the night away with a man who resembled a commodore and wore a lime green silk leisure suit.

1. March 2005: The Gingerman Weekend. Friday night was movies with the girls - I think we watched The Notebook? Saturday, Kate and I took our pets to The Gingerman where we met Ron Burgundy and Bull Rider. Saturday night, Kate made us dinner, (she was drunk), and then we watched Ladder 49. I cried. Seth and Mary were scared. Sunday we went to Astro World, saw butt acne and realized that if those girls can find love, so can we!! Sunday night, we watched some sports game with Lino and our sunburns.

0. February 18, 2006: St. Arnolds Brewery followed by 10 hours at the Sundown Saloon. Went to the brewery for one last hoorah before they start charging $5 for admission. Everyone had 4+ pints of beer - they just had the bowl of tokens lying around, so we decided to keep those tokens company in our pockets. Post St. Arnolds, the coaches decide we should go to the Sundown Saloon. We walk in. The curtains are paper clipped closed. There are Playboy magazines on the tables. There are about 20 people in the bar - all over the age of 70 - some are playing Texas Hold 'Em, some are just drinking beer out of cans at the bar. The Sundown Saloon doesn't have bottled beer. They don't have draft beer. They only have cheap beer and they only serve it out of cans. They provide you with a coozie though. That is important. By the end of the evening, we had Nancy and Judy (70+ year old women) playing King's Cup. They are screaming 'f**k me' and rubbing their breasts. Nancy grabbed her crotch. I almost peed my pants. Judy poured the beer from her can into a glass with ice. We signed the Playboys. We danced. We played every single song in the jukebox. It was incredible.

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

Both from our dear sweet Erik. Thanks buddy.

There is nothing like taking something a little too far. Gotta respect this guy. Gotta respect Bode Miller.

Why this guy is still living with this girl, we may never know, but if he moves out, we might miss the funniness. So, let's hope they always stay together.

Friday, February 17, 2006

Creating Strategic Partnerships.

I was required by a work mandate to attend assertiveness training. Of all the people in the world who don't need assertiveness training, I am queen of their tribe. But whatever. They want to waste money to make me sit still for 2 days, whatever. I'd have preferred a cash donation instead, but they didn't ask me.

So I go to training. The leader of the class is a man named Yahya (pronounced Ya-ya). He is Iranian. He has a thick accent. And his name is Yahya. Thus my day begins...

Yahya is a nice guy - very amiable and I would probably enjoy him a lot if I understood a single word that came out of his mouth. But seeing as how I am deaf and already have trouble with accents, I heard nothing. The 3 inch long stand alone mustache he had going on just aggravated an exisiting problem...I couldn't even read his lips. The 'stache was so long you couldn't even tell if he was smiling or not. But his eyes smiled. I think. Or he was just leering.

In addition to his stand-alone 'stache, Yahya showed up to training in quite an ensemble. He must have purchased his shirt on his way to the seminar, because it still have the creases from how the shirt was folded in the store. One crease right across the stomach and 2 down each side of his chest. It also still had the cardboard in the collar, but I won't mention that. The side of his shirt won't stay tucked in because he has his pants sagged down so low you woulda thought he was a gangsta. I think the pants were super-saggy that day because he kept sticking his hands down the back of his pants. I guess he wanted to make sure his arse was still there. His fly was unzipped the entire morning and my view from the front row was compromising. When he returned from lunch, he must have fixed the problem because I didn't get anymore peeks at little Yahya. But he made sure the cardboard collar was still in place.

The seminar was long and boring. But the Star Trek jokes he kept making kept me alert. Oh wait, I don't watch Star Trek. I am a girl and I respect myself just a little bit. Not much. But a little.

Friday, February 03, 2006

These are the type of dorks I spend most of my days with...

Email from a co-worker:

"Thank you guys for staying open minded and taking some additional time to gather all the information so that we can make the best decision for the project and the company, this will save us a bunch of money (unfortunately it will not be on my car insurance!)

Best regards,
Email from Erik yesterday morning:

"I don't know what finally made it click for me: was it when I walked by the mirror after breakfast and realized that I'd put gel in my hair but didn't comb it, or was it when I nearly left the apartment with my fly open? It could have been when I was tying my shoes and realized I'd rolled one sleeve up and then didn't bother with the other. I do know this: I took a roll call this morning, and one of my mind's comrades answered "here".

The only thing that got me out of bed my last dream: my car was stolen, and then my cell phone. I finally escaped being attacked by a gypsy with a slingshot, and made it into a mall where her and the midget couldn't get to me. At that point I was stranded and cut-off, and I didn't know anyone's phone numbers. I was so pissed about not being able to call any of you people to complain that I just woke up.

I guess the Aggie HH last night was just too much for this old man."

Wackos. All of yous.

Vince sent this hysterical link - might be the funniest thing I have read in a loooong time. I laughed so hard, I cried. Potty humor kills me.

And from the desk of Lino - also funny, but not as funny as link number 1:
My crappy neighborHOOD!

Last night, I was minding my own business at the tail end of my jog, running on the proper side of the road, I might add, when I hear the screaching of tires and a huge crash. I don't think much of it, because frankly, I live in the ghetto and there is lots of tire screeching all the time, and there is so much construction that big crashes aren't un heard of either. I mean, just the other day, the 37 Mexicans that live next door had a family argument and bashed all of the windows out of one of their 23 beat up Toyotas. That's totally normal. On my other side is a plaster warehouse and sometimes the 37 Mexicans from next door will go to work there and make plaster. That's not relevant to the story. Sorry.

Anyways, so I do finally look behind me and I see a beat up Toyota that got t-boned by a BMW. From what I can tell, the Toyota ran the stop sign, on its way to run me over - I was only a few feet from the intersection, and Miss BMW was minding her own business and hit the piece of crap at about 35 mph. Ish.

14 Mexicans pile out of the Toyota and 1 white chick in a velour jumpsuit eases herself out of her Beamer. I go back and ask if they need help, or need me to call anyone. None of the 14 Mexicans speak any English (yea right) and the white lady, her name is Sherry, I find out later, doesn't have a cell phone. She drives a Beamer, but doesn't have a cell phone? Oh, but one of the 14 does. He has a Razr. He put 14 people in his crappy Toyota, AND he found the cash to get a Razr phone? That's just good multitasking. But I tell Sherry that if she needs anything I live in that house over there...[I point].

I go home, call mom, get some bad news - whole long other depressing blog which we won't write about here. In the middle of the call, I hear knock knock knock. Sherry is at my door. Turns out, Miss Velour Jumpsuit does have a cell phone (phew, I thought the sky was falling), and she also has a drivers license and insurance card, but of course all of those things are in her other velour jumpsuit at the office. Who keeps their insurance card in their jumpsuit?

We discuss her options and determine that the best course of action is just to call the cops and she will get a ticket for no DL and insurance, but all that can get taken care of since she does have a DL and insurance. So, the cops come. I am the only witness (even though I didn't actually see anything), so I have to chat with the cops for forever. At this point, all the 146 Mexicans that live on my street have no congregated in the street - this is the most excitement we have seen since I have lived there. The window bashing was more of a private affair - I only heard it because I live next door. Well, and then there was the time when my car got pushed into the ditch. But all of these events paled in ocmparison to the wreck last night.

Anyways, the cars get towed. I go watch gee tv and go to bed at 8:30. It was a rough day. THEN I overslept this morning. How is that possible? I went to bed at 8:30pm. That means at 4:30 (when the alarm was supposed to go off), I had already had 8 hours of sleep. How much do I really need? Let's be serious here.

On another note, the guy in work group that we don't like is dragging up today! Yeah! No more cursing at his wife or listening to him work his side job. Hopefully whoever moves into his cube doesn't smell.