Funny T-Shirt. Funny Like, Ha Ha.

Mint.

(Courtesy or Funny Designs dot com.)

I sang to a fork because I was high.

What did you do??

Pick the month (number) you were born in:

1----I fell in love with
2----I ate a
3----I smacked
4----I sang to
5----I gave my number to
6----I murdered
7----I shot
8----I gave a lap dance to
9----I chocked on
10---I bitched out
11---I had sex with
12---I humped

Pick the day (number) you were born on:

1-------A homeless guy
2-------your mom
3-------a banana
4-------a fork
5-------a Mexican
6-------a gangster
7-------a hooker
8-------an ipod
9-------my best friends boyfriend
10-------a goat
11-------my dog
12-------a ninja
13-------the computer
14-------a football player
15-------my neighbor
16-------myself
17-------a Jones soda
18-------a llama
19-------a pickle
20-------a stuffed animal
21-------a permanent marker
22-------my dad
23-------a condom
24-------my psychiatrist
25-------a policeman
26-------my brother
27-------my sister
28-------a baseball bat
29-------a dvd player
30-------a paperclip
31-------my cell phone

Pick the color of shirt you are wearing:

White-------Because I was high.
Black-------Because I was drunk.
Pink--------Because I'm NOT homosexual.
Red---------Because the voices told me to.
Blue--------Because I'm sexy and I do what I want
Green-------Because I hate myself.
Purple------Because I'm naked.
Gray--------Because that's how I roll.
Yellow------Because someone offered me 1,000,000 dollars
Orange------Because I hate my family.
Other-------Because that's how I roll.

TGI NFL Draft Weekend

I have lost all motivation to work today. I was doing pretty well all week and today, I'm just a slug. I think even my dog has a better attention span than me today, and that, my friends, is no easy feat for a Springer. Speaking of the Stinkster, that mofo ate my sunglasses yesterday. For the 2nd time. It was cute listening to St Pauly Boy giving him a lecture about it too:

"Now Pete, you're really not making a good case for us to allow you to be alone in the house. Kennel. Good boy."

I'm looking forward to getting a manicure at 5pm and then meeting my beloved and our friends down at the neighborhood watering hole. It's rainy and cold and very dreary, making a good atmosphere for having some pints. In bulk.

And the best part of all is that tomorrow is Day 1 of the NFL Draft. In the last few years, I have become a draft junkie. Rainy Saturday, minor (ok, possibly major) hangover, snacks, couch, TIVO remote, 43" Plasma, and the drama of the draft. God, that's like poetry to me. Who's going to be the first pick? What team needs a running back the most? Is there going to be a good linebacker left when the Vikes number comes up? How many embarrassment will Vikings fans endure this year in the draft? (Good chance we come out clean in this one, given the great Mike Tice got his walking papers last season....stopwatch, anyone?) Who's going to get Matt Leinart? He's so hot. And to watch it all go down live, in front of your eyes...I can't imagine a better marathon to commit to (except for maybe Season 1 of Road Rules, I'm a sucker for the old school MTV "reality" shows).

Our hopes is that draft day ends on a good note for our team. We like our picks, we feel confident about our free agent signings (and this year, we should), the majority of the bad blood has been righfully fired or traded by this point (capped off this morning by the release of Onterrio Smith, who is the self-titled S.O.D. (Steal of the Draft) and now more commonly known as The Whizzanator. Bye bye, S.O.D. We will miss your endless suspensions and the cloud of green smoke that follows you everywhere.

I owe my draft devotion to my brother, Bubs, without whom I would have virtually no interest in sports, but has successfully molded me into a true freak. I'll TIVO day 1 for you, brother, while you're at the tasting with your wedding caterer!

Just Change My Oil, Jerk-Ass.

I discovered a flat tire on my car yesterday. I had pulled out of the garage and onto the street, recognized that the vehicle was not operating appropriately, pulled into the gas station lot across the street and called my husband.

There were two reasons for calling my husband. 1) I needed a quick ride to work and he was working from home, right across the street. 2) I don't know a damn thing about changing tires. Ok, ok. I don't know a damn thing about cars, in general. I've tried understanding cars, but I can't seem to retain the knowledge. I hate representing that stereotypical woman, but unfortunately with this topic, I do.

Anyway, St Pauly Boy drove me to work. Then he went back to the truck, put on the spare tire, and drove down to the Tire Store. At the Tire Store, he ordered me a brand spankin' new tire, which comes in today, and will be replacing the spare with the new tire this afternoon.

Here's what pisses me off. Last Summer, I got a flat tire (same car) while I was en route to bring Stinky Pete to Grandma & Grandpa's house for the weekend while SPB and I went on our annual DMB/Camping excursion in Wisconsin. SPB was in the air, flying home from The OC at the time, so I was on my own. No problem, I can handle this. It was 98 degrees out and humid as shit. Stinky had just come back from a night spent in the Emergency Vet Clinic, after having gotten into some cold medecine. He was just fine after being treated by the wonderful vet but I was still feeling like a nervous mommy and was concerned about leaving him alone for the weekend. Now I've got a flat tire and can't go anywhere until I resolve the issue. So I'm at the Tire Store, with a sick dog, and this piece of metal protuding from my tire. God only knows what this piece of metal was from or how the hell it got stuck in my tire, but whatever, I just needed it to be fixed so I could be on my merry way.

Tire Guy was very nice, he let me bring Stinky into the Tire Store so he wasn't stuck in the hot hot car. They took a look at the tire and told me that they'd try to patch it up but if the patch wasn't good enough, I'd have to buy a new tire. That's totally fine, just get it done, I've got places to be. Then Tire Guy brings another Tire Guy over and the Tire Guys proceed to tell me that because I have 4 wheel drive, I'd have to buy all new tires because if they just replaced one tire, it would mess up the alignment.

Immediately this doesn't sound right to me. Luckily, I didn't have to deal with that option because the patch worked and I was able to drive away without spending $1400 on all new tires.

Now, when SPB went to the Tire Store (same one as I went to) there was absolutely no mention of needing to replace all 4 tires just because of one flat. And you want to know why?? Because he's a man. And men are born with the knowledge that you don't need to replace all of the tires in the case of one flat. Women, on the other hand, are there to be taken advantage of.

It happened to me at an Oil Change Place once too.

It absolutely burns me up to know that they actually do get away with this stuff too. Luckily I was smart enough, not to fall for their shameless ploy. But other women are not.

The funny part of this story involves the 20 minute timeframe where Stinky Pete and I sat on the sidewalk in front of the Tire Store, while they investigate the weird piece of metal in my tire. The street on which the Tire Store resides is a busy one, in an urban area. It also happens to be on the corner of a busy intersection. So Stinky and I were sitting on the sidewalk...correction...I was sitting on the sidewalk, Stinky was attempting to pull my arm out of my socket while I tried to hold his leash, preventing him from running into traffic. As it turns out, Stinky needed to go potty. And I wasn't quick enough to get him to any sort of grassy area. Out comes the poo, onto the sidewalk. Ill prepared for the appropriate disposal of the doggie-doo, I tried to figure out what to do. Wearing my flip flops, I kicked the poo off of the sidewalk and onto the street. I completely understand the dirty looks I got from passers-by and would have exibited the same disgust if I had witnessed the scene myself. But to my defense, they had no idea what kind of day I had. And quite frankly, the kind of day I had was appropriately represented by my poo-flinging actions.

The Tire Guys are just lucky that I didn't have the balls to pick up the poo and throw it in their face.

What? Your Name Is Erin? I Think I'll Call You Harold.

Nicknames are hilarious. I come from a family that has mastered the art of nicknaming people. When I was little, my nickname was Peanut. Everyone in my family called me Peanut. My younger brother was nicknamed Bubba. Everyone in our family called him Bubba. These nicknames have slowly progressed throughout the years....

Peanut...Peanut-Head...P-Head
Bubba...Bubs...Bubbies...Wubbies...Wub-Head

Because of this, my brother and I inherited the nack for nicknaming. Since neither one of us have children yet, we use our pets in the meantime. Here is the evolution of our pets and their nicknames:

Stinky Pete...Pete...Peter...Petey...PP...PP-Pants...Stinky...Stinkster
Pumpkin...Punky...Punk Punk...Bump...Bumpy...Bump Rooter...Rump Roast...Chump Chicken

There is no way that either my brother or I could possibly call someone by their given name. The name Jill becomes Jillie Bean Pie Face Head. WTF is all of that? How does this make any sense? It doesn't. The words just sound funny together. And there you have it.

I feel sorry for our future children. They will not escape the wrath of the nickname monster that runs through my veins.

Jack Ass of the Day Award

St. Pauly Girl is proud to announce the winner of the Jack Ass of the Day award (brought to you by the letters J and A).

Keith Hernandez. Give it up for baseball legend, Mr. Keith Herdandez.

A Woman's Place is in the Kitchen, Not the Dugout

Oh but don't worry, ladies. Keith still loves you. He always has.

Excuse me while I go throw up.

Juggling. It's Not Just For Clowns Anymore.

Most amazing juggling act. Ever.

Are you kidding me? How on gods green earth did this guy possibly come up with this act? My jaw is on my keyboard.

And could he have picked a cooler song?? No.

Speechless.

New York, New York

I have a love affair with the city of New York. I've only been there once and that was all the impact that I needed. I love the look, the feel, the smell, the sound, I even love all the walking...and I'm not one to embrace "long walks". "Long walks" may sound romantic, but in reality, the dog is yanking on the leash, the shoes you're wearing are killing you, you have a charlie horse on your left calf muscle, you're dying of thirst and didn't think to bring a bottle of Evian, and you have to pee. Badly. FYI, I already know I'm a whiner, so there's no real need to point it out. That's what I'm embracing instead of "long walks". Being a whiner. And dammit, I'm good at it, too. But anyway, back to what I was saying before I got all self-absorbed, walking in NYC is so much different. It's something in the air, I think, that makes you feel like going a mile has only been 1 block. My love affair with NYC continues even though it's been about 4 years since I've been back. I will watch anything on TV that is set in NYC. Anything. I'll watch 2 episodes of Sex and The City, on 2 different channels, flipping between them for the full 1/2 hour. I'll even sit through a Keanu Reeves* movie, if it's set in NYC. Sometimes I even dream NYC.

The funny thing is, I don't think I could ever live there. I'm so conditioned to my midwestern way of life, I don't think I could survive such a transition. But I can pretend. Instead of transitioning an entire life there, I'd rather visit. Much more frequently than every 4 years.

With that said, my dear sweet husband, knowing full well the details of my love affair, secretly planned a New York get-a-way for our 1st anniversary, coming up next month. Did I marry the right man, or what? We're staying at a hotel 2 blocks from Central Park. We're going to see The Odd Couple on Broadway. I've never seen a Broadway play! And it was St. Pauly Boy's idea! Then we are having dinner, on the eve of our actual anniversary, at Tavern On The Green. It's already reserved and everything. I could not. be. more. excited.

Our original anniversary plans were to spend a night at the hotel where we had our reception, downtown St. Paul. It's by far my favorite hotel in the Twin Cities and they hosted one hell of a beautiful wedding for us. But we live 15 minutes away from said hotel and St. Pauly Boy wanted more distance from our hometown. More of a real vacation and since we can't recreate our honeymoon in Ireland (due to attempts at financial planning and lack of vacation time on my part), he thought this would be the next best thing.

And for me, he hit the nail right on the head.

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*Outside of Speed, I'm fairly anti-Keanu. I know he's pretty and all, but when he opens his mouth, it's like nails on a chalk board to me. Just not right.

That's One Hell of a Technical Glitch

As a member of the Human Rights Campaign organization, I get every email update that they send. They provide very handy links to email our state senators regarding issues in which we would like to voice our opinion. There is a canned email and also the opportunity to add your own verbiage, to personalize your message to your govermental representatives.

My recent participation was in relation to the Marriage Protection Ammendment and my letters went to the MN Senators, Norm Coleman (R) and Mark Dayton (D).

I received a response from the Coleman camp, almost immediately. I found that refreshing, although I am not at all a Norm supporter. But, the response that I received has left me in a state of shock. Check this out:
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Dear Mrs. S:

Thank you for taking the time to contact me regarding the Marriage Protection Amendment (S.J. Res. 1).

You will be pleased to know that I share your view that marriage is intended to be between one man and one woman. I support a constitutional amendment that would constitutionalize the Defense of Marriage Act, ensuring that the citizens of a state, through their legislature, have the right to define marriage as they see fit. Moreover, I believe that state legislatures and citizens, not activist judges, should determine what constitutes a marriage.

The Marriage Protection Amendment was introduced on January 24, 2005, by Senator Wayne Allard (R-CO) and referred to the Senate Committee on the Judiciary where it was reported favorably by the Constitution Subcommittee on November 9, 2005. This resolution proposes a constitutional amendment holding that only marriages between men and women will be recognized as legal marriages in the United States . In addition, this resolution would prohibit any state or federal laws that seek to confer marital status to unmarried couples or groups.

My two chief concerns about this particular resolution are that the language may to go beyond the issue of defining marriage and into other matters like employer-provided health care programs, for example, and that it substitutes the judgment citizens of each state should make through their legislatures. While this right is protected by current Federal law, recent court rulings suggest that a constitutional amendment may be necessary. As you know, the Defense of Marriage Act passed the House and Senate by overwhelming, bipartisan majorities, 342 - 67 in the House and 85 - 14 in the Senate.

You will be pleased to know that on July 14, 2004, I voted to end a filibuster and allow an up or down vote on this issue. While that procedural vote failed 48-50, Majority Leader Frist has expressed interest in bringing this legislation to the floor this summer. I will keep your views in mind as we once again take up this issue in the Senate.

I am humbled to serve as your Senator, and hope you will not hesitate to contact me on any issue of concern to you or your family.


Sincerely,
Norm Coleman
United States Senate
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Um. Did he just say that we're on the same page? Oh no you di-in't.

Then I got this:
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Dear Mrs. S:

First, I would like to apologize for a technical glitch in our mail system which resulted in my sending an incorrect response to your recent email. Opinions of Minnesotans matter to me, and your opposition to the Marriage Protection Amendment has been recorded. Your advice will remain important to me while I consider this issue.

However, I support a constitutional amendment that would constitutionalize the Defense of Marriage Act, ensuring that the citizens of a state, through their legislature, have the right to define marriage as they see fit. Moreover, I believe that state legislatures and citizens, not activist judges, should determine what constitutes a marriage.

I have not, however, agreed to support the Marriage Protection Amendment which was introduced on January 24, 2005, by Senator Wayne Allard (R-CO) and referred to the Senate Committee on the Judiciary where it was reported favorably by the Constitution Subcommittee on November 9, 2005. This resolution proposes a constitutional amendment holding that only marriages between men and women will be recognized as legal marriages in the United States. In addition, this resolution would prohibit any state or federal laws that seek to confer marital status to unmarried couples or groups.

My two chief concerns about this particular resolution are that the language may to go beyond the issue of defining marriage and interfere with things such as employer-provided health care programs, for example and that it substitutes the judgment that citizens of each state should make through their legislatures.

Though we may agree at times and disagree at times, I value your advice.

Once again, I apologize for my earlier response. I am humbled to serve as your Senator, and hope you will not hesitate to contact me on any issue of concern to you or your family.
---------------------------------------------------------------------

I love how the automated responses try to sound so personal. "I apologize for my earlier response." .....where I completely disrespected your opinion. "I value your advice."......but only follow it if you promise to vote for me when I run for president.

Norm, tell your techies to kiss my fat liberal ass. And while you're at it, you can go ahead and pucker up too.

Say Whaaaaa?

There's this trend that's been going on for a while now involving tattoo's of certain words like "love" and "happiness" that are written in Chinese characters. It's an iritating trend, in my opinion. And this article really solidifies this fact for me. Turns out, people aren't doing the appropriate level of research on the Chinese language and as a result, some tattoos do not actually transulate into the intended insprirational (i.e. cheesy) word or phrase. This pleases me. Specifically this pleases me: (from NY Times)

"Britney Spears was apparently not so cautious. She reportedly got a tattoo she thought said "mysterious" but actually meant "strange."

(Article in it's entirity: "Cool Tat, Too Bad It's Gibberish")

That is brillant.

I cannot tell you how happy I am knowing that Brittney is wandering this earth, in all of her white trash glory, with a tattoo that says "strange".

I think the moral of the story here is.....don't fall for these ridiculous trends. And if you do, make sure you have Yao Ming transulate it appropriately for you.

Marriage Protection Amendment = Discrimination

Do we really want the transulation to soon become Constitution = Discrimination? No? Then go sign this petition:

Million For Marriage

And if you haven't already done so, contact your state senators. They deserve to know how we feel.

Don't Mess with Kenny Rogers.

Apparently I was the butt of everybody's joke yesterday. And rightfully so, I fully admit. From the moment I awoke, feeling delightfully rested and comfortable in my bed, it just took seconds for my brain to register that the reason I felt rested was because it was 9:30 in the morning and I was not at work. And then, the panic. I frantically email my boss, fully admitting that I had overdone the birthday celebration the previous night and that, well, I was just not going to make it into the office that day. Nor was I planning on making it to our 8am meeting, that was already over. I even offered to allow her to take disciplanary action against me (because if I didn't give her my blessing to punish me, she probably wouldn't). And when I had my 1:1 with her today, I reiterated my generousity. All she said she wanted was her $5 back.

Heh?

Turns out, my boss and a coworker of mine placed a wager on the possibility of my appearance in the office that day. And my boss lost. She really should have played the odds better on this one. But I respected the punishment like a big girl and I dug in my handbag, found a $5 bill crinkled up at the bottom next to my chapstick (and luckily the gum was still in it's wrapper), I straightened it out and ironed it on the edge of my desk, and with a big fat pouting of my lower lip, I delivered it to her. And then we laughed. Loudly. The funny thing is, she was a bit hung over herself yesterday (although, ever the professional, actually made it into the office) from the happy hour that they had for me. Is it still called happy hour when the drink & appetizer specials have ended and it's 10pm? I think that's just called "getting drunk at the bar" but I'm not one to judge.

And here's why. By 10pm that night, I was at another bar, playing a drinking game that was designed specifically for me on my special day. It consisted of two men with guitars, playing The Gambler by Kenny Rogers, while spicing up the lyrics just a bit. Everytime they used a specific word, I had to drink. Turns out, this word must have been their favorite because I went through a 25 oz. beer by the time the song was over. It went a little something like this:

You gotta know when to hold 'em.
Know when to fold 'em.
Know when to walk away,
And know when to mother fuckin' run, dog.
You never count your money, mother fucker,
when you're sittin' at the table.
They'll be time enough for countin',
when the mother fuckin' dealin's done.

And repeat.
Again.
Again.

And.............refill.

It was simply delightful!

Around 3am, it was finally time to leave. As I'm writing this I'm sitting her wondering if I paid my tab. So I sent an email to the bartender to see. Afterall, it's 99% his fault that I can't remember. I didn't order half of what he put in front of me that night. It was somewhere between the JagBull and The Gambler that I decided I would not be attending my 8am meeting the next day. Had I known there was a wager, maybe I would have tried a little harder to beat the odds. At least I know for next year.

Go Shorty.

It's my birthday. Yep, that's right. 4/4. In the year 2044, my birthday will be 4/4/44. I'll be 67 that year. And I'm throwing a huge birthday party with all my friends from the nursing home I'll be in by then*, and I'm getting kegs. And we're going to have drunken wheelchair races and play BINGO. Drunk. We'll be total party animals during that game of BINGO, let me tell you.

Although my dear sweet St. Pauly Boy is out of town for my birthday this year and the fact that the age of 29 is relatively meaningless**, I am in very good spirits. My coworkers are taking me out for happy hour, SPB sent me the most beautiful bouquet of roses and tulips, my in-laws also sent me a bouquet of all sorts of flowers (yes, they do in fact spoil me and no, I will not share them), my wonderful future-sis-in-law is heading over to my house to let Stinky Pete out to go potty, so I can go have drinks, and then she's taking me to get birthday hugs and kisses from my bar family at Tiff's. I love birthday kisses. And you know what's even better? It's 55 degrees and perfectly sunny. And you know what's even better than that?? I was just able to get closure on a situation that has been plaguing me for the last 2 years. Today. I finally stood my ground and said, enough is enough. I have forgiven myself for all the wrong things I did with that situation and I have the support of the people that I love and all I have left is the feeling of relief. And that is the best birthday gift. Ever. And I gave it to myself. Go figure.

So let's raise our glasses to 29th birthday's, coworkers that I actually look forward to spending my birthday happy hour with, my future-sis-in-law for taking care of me when SPB is out of town, and finally, to no hard feelings. And that, my friend, is what they call.....closure. (All you FRIENDS fanatics out there should remember that line).

Have a good day, internets! I sure will!

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*Not saying 67 is old and that all 67 year olds belong in a nursing home. I just have this feeling that my body will be so pissed at me by then, for all the bad shit I do to it, that I'll have an early retirement from self-sufficient living.

**Unless you're one of those people who mourns the loss of your twenties and getting old and all that stuff, which I don't. And don't try to tell me it's because I'm not old enough to mourn my age because I have every hope in the world that I will always embrace the new stages of life that I enter with age. I love age. It rules.

The Donald

Just about everyone in the world thinks I'm crazy and I'm sure you will too when I say this, but I love Donald Trump. I LOVE The Apprentice. Those people make such asses out of themselves and The Donald just gets to lay into them and it's just beautiful to watch. Bad hair, I don't care. I love watching him fire people.

Like tonight, for example. The project manager on the team that lost the challenge (deservedly so, their jingle for Arby's was ridiculous) has to choose two people from his team to bring into the boardroom so The Donald can fire someone. This jack ass brings Lee, the Jewish guy who had to take 2 weeks off to observe a Jewish holiday and as a result missed the entire challenge. Are you kidding me? Did you really just discriminate against a guy because of his religion? On national TV? In The Donald's boardroom?? Take's balls, guy. But it doesn't really matter, because..........you're fired.

God I love that. You go, Donald. Damn I wish I could fire people. You're FIRED. That would feel sooooooooooo good. I think tomorrow I might just randomly start firing people. It's my birthday tomorrow, I should be able to fire people, right?? Well, I'm sure gonna try.

So, to all you Donald Hater's out there on the internets, lay off the coiffe. Just let him fire people so that I can continue to get my fix of cheap entertainment.