:: American Angst ::

  1. Home

  2. Archives

  3. About

  4. Contact

  5. DiaryLand


Click here to join angst_update

Join the Angst Update List and get email when I update my site



Praise? Suggestions? Vitriol? Email Me!

moi






Puttin' the FUN in dys-FUN-ctional!!

It's the holidays! Time for Ding Fries Are Done!

Thursday, May. 05, 2005
I'm NOT baaaa-aaaack


So I'm in my third hotel in 5 days. Vacation...Business Conference...Vacation again. And let me just say that Internet connectivity in ALL hotels in Vegas? Sucks ASS. Just so ya know. I even switched rooms here in my last hotel to FIX this issue, when it has just become clear that it is, once again, the G.D. hoTEL 'net service that bites. Not the room jack.

Anyway. Vegas. Love Vegas. Though I have to tell you that it is not even close to the same level of glee since George isn't here with me.

*********************************

So I've had notes on this for over a week now, but this is the first chance I've had to sit down and write, so it's a little late, but whatever.

We have GOT to talk about Jennifer Wilbanks, the Runaway Bride. Yep, she's from my state. 'bout 20 minutes away (though, to be fair, EVERYthing in Atlanta is 20 minutes away...everyone says that, but thing is? It's totally true. You can get just about anywhere in 20 minutes. Wow. TOTALLY digressing here.) (Note that I did NOT say "BUT I digress." Nope. I do not feel the need, as sooooo many others do when declaring the obvious...to wit: going completely off-topic, to say "BUT I digress." WHY the 'but'? Why is it ALWAYS 'BUT'??)

Where the hell was I?

Oh yeah. Jennifer Wilbanks. No, I have no desire to discuss what she did and whether I agree or not with any of the parties involved (Note: I am able to look out my hotel window right now and see one of the places where she hid out) but instead I wish to discuss what the HELL IS WRONG WITH HER EYES?? Did she have her eyelids surgically removed? WHY does she allow pictures to show her eyes bugging out like that?? You HAVE to know that if that were me I would be making all SORTS of concerted efforts to ensure that my eyes were NEVER that terrifyingly OPEN.

Actually, to be perfectly honest, I think I know why she does it. Or at least I can speculate. I used to know someone who did the same thing...freaked us ALL out and ruined many a picture with the freakish bugging out of the eyes. We would be flipping through the pictures and would come to one with that person and would jump a little with fear at the sight of it. We would laugh nervously and ask our spouse (WHY am I talking in the third person???) "WHY does the person have to DO that in EVERY FREAKIN' PICTURE?? WHY can't she just look NORMAL?? She doesn't walk AROUND like that...all bug-eyed, so WHY, then, does she feel the overwhelming need to do it when her image is being captured for all eternity?? WHY does she wish to be remembered as a circus freak??" And I came to the conclusion (or perhaps George did...I forget) that it's because she (any 'she' who bugs her eyes out in pictures) is so insecure and worried about appearing just so perfect and she's afraid that she will blink and the picture will end up showing her with closed or half-closed 'I'm so stoooooned' eyes that she refuses to blink until the flash has expired and then (and ONLY then) will she put her eyelids back on the outside again. It's very sad. And also I HATE it. Freaks me out.

*********************************

So let's get back to Vegas. Like I said, I had to move rooms to get the proper level of internet access so I could send love to my peeps. And when the bellhop (bellman? bellcap? The fuck're they called???) came to move my bags from the non-high-speed access room to the High-speed-access-included (and newly renovated) suite, I was making small talk with Mr. Bellhop. He seemed like a nice guy; very, very short, latino, and had a lisp that just wouldn't quit. I didn't care, though. He's a jovial guy and I'm on vacation, so what the hell, right? Besides, I like to chat with bellhops, cab drivers, any service person who is probably rarely acknowledged and thanked. I tip them well and I let them tell me their stories, or we just make small talk, as we were tonight. So we get in the elevator and exhaustion just washes over me. I've had about an average of 3 or 4 hours sleep each night since...God...at least 2 weeks ago and this conference just wiped me out. So in the elevator, when it hit me, I sorta ran my hand from my forehead down to my neck, as wearied people do, and I said "Man. I am sooooo exhausted." And do you know what this assface said back? Do ya? Ohhhh let me share:

He said "You LOOK exhausted!"

That's right. People just can't seem to resist what appears to be an irresistible urge to insult the shit out of me lately. Since he was a nice little man who was just trying to chat and be conversational and obviously has NO knowledge of how to speak to women and meant no harm, I didn't say the following rant, which was running RAMPANT through my head: "Hey! Fucker! I was just making small talk! I did NOT ask for your opinion! And guess what else? Yer a short latin lisper! *I* can take a nap! What're YOU gonna do, eh??? Fucktard."

Instead? I just smiled fakely and said "Yeah...it's been a long week." and gave him 5 dollars for moving my bags from one room to another and insulting the hell out of me.

*********************************

Speaking of insulting the hell out of me, let me share with you how my trip began:

It started when I got to the airport around 8:30 in the morning. My flight was to leave at 10:00. By 1:00 in the afternoon, I was still waiting to board the plane and, along with all my fellow passengers, was becoming increasingly irritated. The weather (and idiot pilots in South Africa, who were bringing our plane to Atlanta) contributed to what was nearly a five hour delay. NOT pleased. So during this ridiculous delay, I went to the book shop next to my gate to get a book since I had already read all of my magazines. I also grabbed a neck pillow and a wheel-cart for my laptop bag and purse since I was making several trips to the smoking lounge, and lugging all that crap (along with a still-messed-up -- and, quite possibly, fractured -- foot from my Deck Mishap, which never healed properly since Gracie was too impatient to remain on crutches...and, yes, made the idiotic decision to wear heels at this week's conference cause flats just aren't flattering) made the trips back and forth to the smoking lounge longer and longer. So I grab what I need and walk to the counter, where there are currently 2 people in front of me; a girl in her late teens, early twenties, and a 50-something year old man who is coming close to having sex, right there in the book shop, with his wife or secretary or whomever she happened to be. The girl ahead of us both has just walked away from her spot at the check-out counter and out of the store. The man in front of me wasn't standing too close to the counter, even though the girl was gone. He hasn't moved an inch, really...except to continue making out (friggin gross) with his old hag...uh...I mean his secretary, so I wait for a little bit to see if he's going to move, but he didn't. I started wondering if he was actually IN line at all; maybe he was just browsing or waiting for everyone to leave so he could ask for a gay porn magazine from behind the counter...I have no way of knowing, and what if he ISN'T in line? That means that I'm just hovering there...gazing at his fondling action. Yick. So I lean forward and -- politely -- say "Excuse me...but are you in line?" and he whirls around and glares at me. I raise my eyebrows and kinda tuck my head back a bit in that 'Whaaaaat?' motion we do when we're taken aback and he narrows his eyes at me and hisses "YES. I AM in line." and here's how the rest of our shared moment went:

Gracie: "I'm sorry. I just wasn't sure if this was the line or not."

Fucknut Grouch: "Well I AM in line, OKAY!? She just went to GET something! GOD!"

Gracie: "Hey! Ya don't have to get RUDE about it. I simply asked if you were in line. She LEFT the STORE and you hadn't moved. I didn't want to be rude and stand right BEHIND you if you weren't, in fact, in line."

He moved up to the counter when he realized that I was correct...the girl was not grabbing another item, she had, indeed, left the store. He slammed his items down on the counter and, while the clerk was ringing him up, he turns around a couple more times to glare hatefully at me. I smirked at him. The last time he turned back to the clerk I muttered under my breath "Grouch." Oooooo, this did NOT please him. AT. ALL. In fact, it pissed him RIGHT off. He glared at me again and spit the following words at me:

Fucknut Grouch: "I. AM. N-O-T. A. guh-ROWWWWWCH!!!"

I actually burst out laughing at that. I couldn't help it. I also said the following before thinking better of it (typical Gracie...aaaaalways forgetting George's rule that I am only allowed to voice every THIRD thought):

Gracie: "Bwwwwaaaaa--ahahahhahaha. HOKAY! Riiiiight."

And to reward my lack of verbal filter, this jackass actually said: "I'm not a grouch, just like YOU aren't FAT!" and stormed off. As he walked away I tossed out at him "Well. It's a good thing ya aren't a GROUCH!" and then -- rather loudly and to anyone and everyone in the little store and while looking at the clerk, who probably could not have cared LESS about the whole exchange -- I said "I'm always just so impressed by the intellectual superiority of a person whose only comeback to being called on their assholic behavior is to make reference to a person's weight. GOOOOOD one."

And really, if you think about it, what he said was quite flawed, since I am, in fact, fat. So him saying "I'm not a grouch just like you aren't fat" is saying that he IS, in fact, a total fucking grouch.

So there.

What made it all the more disappointing...this obvious lack of common goodness in my fellow human, is that this man looked like he had money and an education. He was quite tan and well-dressed, and he carried himself like an executive. And to hear the words he spat at me when I really only wanted to know if there was a gawdam line? Well it just irritates me. And we see it everywhere. The fat jokes lately are rampant. I'd like to blame Kirstie Alley, but it's been going on a lot longer than that.

Also, I plan to write a strongly worded letter to CNN about late-night reporter Mike Galanos. I was watching the other night and he was doing a piece on an Asian beauty pageant for big girls. They showed video of the girls, and it was cute and amusing and I was all set to feel warm and fuzzy over it all when this jackass says "...big girl pageant -- minimum weight requirement: 175 pounds -- in Malaysia to benefit the dwindling elephant population." Then he giggles and mutters "Couldn't have written it better myself!" and giggles again. Asshole.

I am reeeeally so tired of this. I know plenty of people -- male AND female -- who eat just as much, if not more, than I do; who exercise just as much -- or LESS -- than I do, and they are rail thin. WHEN are people going to realize that everyone is different? We're all made up of different genes and metabolic processes and some of us like garlic bread and would everyone just please get the hell over it?? And I'd also like to stop the people who give snotty looks and whisper to their friends about the hilarity of how big someone is and how LITTLE they are....I want to stop them right then and there and say "YOU try living with constant fucking pain that never, ever goes away and never, ever will and YOU try exercising your ass off. YOU try dealing with the simple need to pee, yet dreading the act of getting up because you know that, by the time you get there, you will be in tears due to the excruciating pain caused by the spinal defect, arthritis, and degenerative disc disease. YOU deal with all that...just for a couple of days, while I get to have YOUR body and YOUR life and remember what it's like to exist without pain, and THEN we'll see how smug and giggly you are. HOKAY??"

Sorry. Went off a little there. I just get so tired of the way people look down their noses at people who aren't skinny. Who think it must mean that we're ignorant, or disgusting, or lack self-control. Some of us have bad metabolism...some of us have bad genes...some of us DO lack self-control...some of us have pain and decide we'd rather not exercise because it will end in tears...some of us just wish you'd get yourself a life and quit worrying about ours.

Okay. Done now.

*********************************

Ohhhh ouch. I'm watching the Idol results show (though I missed the Tues. nite singing show) and the group-song is on, which you all know pisses me off. And while they have good voices independently, I canNOT get past how horrific they sound together. The harmony is just ear-bleed-inducing. WHY do they have a singing coach who is deaf? Hmmm? WHYCOME??

I am really getting tired of this 'psych-out' results show where they make people THINK they are safe, then send them home. It's hateful. And we all know that there's only enough room here for one hateful bitch, and I'm WAY better than semencrust.

Did y'all notice Scott's attempts not to let loose his emotions at being kicked off tonight? With his lip-chewing and harsh blinking? WOW. That was a wee bit disturbing to watch. And also makes me realize that he IS his father's son.

*********************************

Someone Arrived Here Searching For:

screw my sexy sister [apparently his STEP sister is no longer enough for him]

radio shack sucks [word. worst customer service and TOTAL lack of in-stock supply EVER.]

farts - pee pee - flush sounds

paypal thong

twat

twenty-four dollars [WHY?? Why not twenty-FIVE or twenty-SIX?? WHY do they torture me like this??]

Carrie Underwood nude [this is so annoying. EVERY idol and other reality star who has ever appeared on television instantly gets searches from people looking for nude images of them. It's stupid. Friggin perverts.]

vote for the worse american idol [how about we vote YOU right off the planet, eh? Let's just throw ya right off the spinning ball here for not being intelligent enough to know the difference between 'worse' and 'worst'. Now GO BACK TO SCHOOL!]

paula abdul winged monkey

oprah poop

why does paula abdul clap funny?

we hate paula abdul [us too]

birthday porn

look mee tits [of COURSE this was done from Belgium. I wonder if they actually think we say things like this. If they think we walk around Wal-mart and Target looking for men and, when we see a man...ANY man...we fling our shirts up around our ears and holler "LOOK MEEE TITS!!!"]

pee in gas tank picture

paula abdul fart

pictures of laughing llamas

scott savol pimp

nancy grace is a

fuck nancy grace [well, I'm glad you were able to finish that thought...]

why does paula hate carrie? [same reason all non-white people hate pretty white girls. Judge Mathis anyone?? Oooh, sorry...I mean Judge 'MAFFIS']

who's paula abdul screwing

pee-traffic [yet another foreign search. Thank GOD I live HERE.]

why the gas went up in american [heh. hehehehe. I know what they were going for...but the way they typed it is WAY funny.]

ellen degeneres boobies

old ass slip [sorry...only NEW ass slips here.]

she fuck up with me and i screw her guestbook [aaahhhh...apparently LOTS of fuckwads practice this little hobby.]

fuckin paula abdul [funny...this is what I say about a dozen times during idol every week.]

guys screwing dogs

fran drescher nipples

nancy grace is nuts

ding dong fries are done

free nude ryan seacrest [honey, there isn't ANYTHING free about that prissy little high-maintenance bitch.]

i hate guinea pigs

sister fart face [brother dicknose. i LOVE this game!]

sexuality showing ass skin [ass. skin. ass-skin.]

i have sexy dreams about llamas

plaque - woo hoo

*********************************





Write me a Note here.

Read my notes here.

Read a Random Entry


Previous | Next

Last 5 Entries:

How Much Are YOU Worth? - Sunday, Jan. 08, 2006

Perfume and Lazy Bastards.... - Wednesday, Jan. 04, 2006

Like Poop Through a Goose.... - Saturday, Dec. 31, 2005

Bling and Bullets.... - Thursday, Dec. 29, 2005

Get Into The Frickin Spirit.... - Friday, Dec. 23, 2005


Much love to: BlogSkins, Rick (the design), and (of course) Powered by Diaryland(TM)