HANNA
The cosmos know just when it's finally ok for the smurfs of dating hell to return. You know what I mean... you've firmly decided that he's not a threat, so much so that you don't even think about him. In just this past week the cosmos have reminded me of a lot of douchebags via technology. I suppose that's to be expected with all of this social interconnectedness. My only conclusion is that these are some of my tests. Yes, the cosmos are testing my sanity to see if I will do the same things over again expecting the same results. You decide:
Smurf who I dated briefly over the summer "tagged" me in a photo and then must have changed his mind because I couldn't find the picture. This is odd for many reasons, but my reaction was to remove him from my friends. Deleted.
Buble smurf started to chat me up on FB for no apparent reason. Deleted.
My First Smurf found me on FB and wanted to add me as a friend. Now this requires just a bit of background... He was my first and he was older, had his shit together, I really liked him. Then, out of the blue, he just stopped communicating with me at all. It was over. I found out through a mutual friend that, unfortunately, he liked someone else just as much. He cheated on me through the whole thing and he was going to be with her. I haven't seen or heard from him since and now he wants to be my friend?! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? Delete.
Now you may be thinking, "Hanna, you made the same decision for each of these instances. Isn't that the first part of the definition of insanity? What are you expecting?" I'm expecting to never hear from any of these guys again. And that feels good. I'm also considering getting rid of FB....
12.04.2010
10.23.2010
David Hasselhoff Smurf
HANNA
When you work with someone, it's inevitable that you will eventually see the highlights and lowlights of his life through some odd moment when he doesn't think you're paying attention. See, I have begun to learn that smurfs who share workspace with a woman feel that they are somehow closer to that woman. Maybe it's because in most workplaces you get to see the true colors of a person when they are sick, stressed, elated, shattered... the list goes on. But always this sort of attitude makes smurfs feel empowered to hit on a woman after an undetermined period of time has passed. Thus, my story:
After work I went to a bar with a few coworkers. Now, this smurf has been slipping in little comments here and there at work that make me pretty aware of the fact that this period of staking me out has made smurf feel empowered. I decided to mix in a bit of alcohol and a fun atmosphere to get the chance to see how he really feels, (I know, I'm a glutton for punishment). Well, at the bar we were a group of four- me, a smurfette and 2 smurfs- indulging in beer and shots (yes, I am getting a little old for that) and this smurf's amorous nature starts to come out. We find a mask on a popcicle stick in the bar which happens to be the face of David Hasselhoff. That mask was the best idea for a talk-piece at a bar (I found out later from the bartenders that they just put them all over the bar to see the reactions of the patrons). So this smurf wears the mask, and he has a blast flirting with me and the other smurfette. No skin off my back, but then he starts to try and kiss both of us at sporadic times. Now, I don't really know why he thinks that it's ok to be polyamorous at with two coworkers in the same setting, but he is determined. I shrug off his efforts, but smurfette indulges in her less-than-coherent state. The night continues to a local's loft and we drink a bit more, and smurf is not giving up on either of us. Again, I brush him off (I still have to work with him) and I move to the next room. A few moments later after distinct spit-swapping sounds and giggles, I hear the rhythmic creaking of the living room couch. Thanks for lulling me to sleep, assholes.
But oh, it gets better. After that day I have been asked out no fewer than 3 times from this exact same smurf. Apparently one workplace hook-up just wasn't enough. Now I know that you deserve the title of The HOFF Smurf... the comparative douchebaggery is astounding.
When you work with someone, it's inevitable that you will eventually see the highlights and lowlights of his life through some odd moment when he doesn't think you're paying attention. See, I have begun to learn that smurfs who share workspace with a woman feel that they are somehow closer to that woman. Maybe it's because in most workplaces you get to see the true colors of a person when they are sick, stressed, elated, shattered... the list goes on. But always this sort of attitude makes smurfs feel empowered to hit on a woman after an undetermined period of time has passed. Thus, my story:
After work I went to a bar with a few coworkers. Now, this smurf has been slipping in little comments here and there at work that make me pretty aware of the fact that this period of staking me out has made smurf feel empowered. I decided to mix in a bit of alcohol and a fun atmosphere to get the chance to see how he really feels, (I know, I'm a glutton for punishment). Well, at the bar we were a group of four- me, a smurfette and 2 smurfs- indulging in beer and shots (yes, I am getting a little old for that) and this smurf's amorous nature starts to come out. We find a mask on a popcicle stick in the bar which happens to be the face of David Hasselhoff. That mask was the best idea for a talk-piece at a bar (I found out later from the bartenders that they just put them all over the bar to see the reactions of the patrons). So this smurf wears the mask, and he has a blast flirting with me and the other smurfette. No skin off my back, but then he starts to try and kiss both of us at sporadic times. Now, I don't really know why he thinks that it's ok to be polyamorous at with two coworkers in the same setting, but he is determined. I shrug off his efforts, but smurfette indulges in her less-than-coherent state. The night continues to a local's loft and we drink a bit more, and smurf is not giving up on either of us. Again, I brush him off (I still have to work with him) and I move to the next room. A few moments later after distinct spit-swapping sounds and giggles, I hear the rhythmic creaking of the living room couch. Thanks for lulling me to sleep, assholes.
But oh, it gets better. After that day I have been asked out no fewer than 3 times from this exact same smurf. Apparently one workplace hook-up just wasn't enough. Now I know that you deserve the title of The HOFF Smurf... the comparative douchebaggery is astounding.
One week, Two Gentle-Smurfs
HANNA
Now, I have been spending a awful lot of time chatting about smurfs who goof up. And I have plenty more of those stories to share, but let me just reflect upon some gentle-smurfs who I met this week. That's right, I'm taking a moment out of my day to say that not only is chivalry alive, but that I'm impressed.
I should first clarify that both of the smurfs I'm about to mention I found online. I don't know if any of the rest of you had any doubts about it as I have, but I found two NICE smurfs the first go. Since two is hardly enough smurfs to create an accurate statistic I am not going to make any claims that this is the norm or even a trend, but maybe, just maybe there is something to this whole concept of "asking for what you want" online.
Both gentle-smurfs were excellent conversationalists, they listened to my stories as intently as I listened to theirs, and they had pleasant dispositions. I was impressed. However, I didn't feel that chemical spark as I would have liked to. I mean, I would happily become friends with either or both, but I don't think that we're all online to find new friends, are we? Still, I have renewed my faith in men at just the right time. It seems that I am finally ready to fall in love.
Now, I have been spending a awful lot of time chatting about smurfs who goof up. And I have plenty more of those stories to share, but let me just reflect upon some gentle-smurfs who I met this week. That's right, I'm taking a moment out of my day to say that not only is chivalry alive, but that I'm impressed.
I should first clarify that both of the smurfs I'm about to mention I found online. I don't know if any of the rest of you had any doubts about it as I have, but I found two NICE smurfs the first go. Since two is hardly enough smurfs to create an accurate statistic I am not going to make any claims that this is the norm or even a trend, but maybe, just maybe there is something to this whole concept of "asking for what you want" online.
Both gentle-smurfs were excellent conversationalists, they listened to my stories as intently as I listened to theirs, and they had pleasant dispositions. I was impressed. However, I didn't feel that chemical spark as I would have liked to. I mean, I would happily become friends with either or both, but I don't think that we're all online to find new friends, are we? Still, I have renewed my faith in men at just the right time. It seems that I am finally ready to fall in love.
9.28.2010
UnSmurfette and Clash Smurf
BARBARA
Any time you go to Vegas you're bound to return with millions of
stories. Some I'll take to the grave, but this one needs to be in a
stand-up comedy routine....
One of my fav smurfettes and I were staying at the Hard Rock in vegas,
and we decided to stop by the bar in the middle of the casino. We were
people watching, checking out the men, when all of a sudden we both
winced and said, "Oooooh girl!" We spotted the most embarrassing
outfit in the entire world. She looked like a lost soul, like she had
only 1 clean shirt and 1 clean skirt, so by default she was forced to
wear them together. It was a drapey, rouged pink skirt that went to
that awkward mid-calf length. I decided it was like the old red
theater curtains that fold up before the movie starts....but in a
dirty pink color. Her top was a plain khaki shirt with some glitter
design on the front. She also had the matching rouged gold clutch,
that just screamed Dollar Store. Oh, and she was wearing wicker flip
flops. She was certainly working it, prancing around the bar, feeling
confident. She wasn't showing enough skin to be a hooker, and she was
too coherant to be on drugs....she had no excuse to be wearing that!
As we often do, we were playing bar dare, and of course Smurfette
dared me to compliment one article of this fireworks spectacular
fantasmic fashion show. We take a seat next to her, and I say, "I love
that purse, it's so cute!" UnSmurfette says, "This piece of shit?" HA,
so we start chatting, drinking, getting to know one another.
Apparently she's waiting for her friend to get off work, but he's
taking a long time. We mutually entertain each other until he arrives.
We'll call him Clash Smurf because he loved my T-Shirt with The Clash
on it. He buys us a round of drinks, and all 4 of us chat for a bit.
Then we kindly give the 2 friends some space, and we chat amongst
ourselves. He can't get over my badass t-shirt, and he buys another
round for all 4 of us. We begin another group chat when all of a
sudden, UnSmurfette storms off. The 3 of us are shocked by the
tantrum....what the hell just happened? By this time we can see that
she is jealous of the attention he's giving us. We discover they were
more than friends at one time, and she's most likely still into him.
We talk about how she must have seen this as a date and he's leading
her on. Then thunder strikes me! I say, "Wait wait wait! So you're
telling me that she got dressed up for you tonight!? She must have
tried on six of seven outfits tonight to try to look good for you!!"
Well ok, about halfway through that I was on the ground crying, but I
did manage to get all those words out eventually. I hate to say it,
but I've never laughed so hard in my life! He didn't really get it,
but Smurfette and I were rolling.
On a side note, I still text Clash Smurf, he's hysterical. I find new
friends in the oddest places.
Any time you go to Vegas you're bound to return with millions of
stories. Some I'll take to the grave, but this one needs to be in a
stand-up comedy routine....
One of my fav smurfettes and I were staying at the Hard Rock in vegas,
and we decided to stop by the bar in the middle of the casino. We were
people watching, checking out the men, when all of a sudden we both
winced and said, "Oooooh girl!" We spotted the most embarrassing
outfit in the entire world. She looked like a lost soul, like she had
only 1 clean shirt and 1 clean skirt, so by default she was forced to
wear them together. It was a drapey, rouged pink skirt that went to
that awkward mid-calf length. I decided it was like the old red
theater curtains that fold up before the movie starts....but in a
dirty pink color. Her top was a plain khaki shirt with some glitter
design on the front. She also had the matching rouged gold clutch,
that just screamed Dollar Store. Oh, and she was wearing wicker flip
flops. She was certainly working it, prancing around the bar, feeling
confident. She wasn't showing enough skin to be a hooker, and she was
too coherant to be on drugs....she had no excuse to be wearing that!
As we often do, we were playing bar dare, and of course Smurfette
dared me to compliment one article of this fireworks spectacular
fantasmic fashion show. We take a seat next to her, and I say, "I love
that purse, it's so cute!" UnSmurfette says, "This piece of shit?" HA,
so we start chatting, drinking, getting to know one another.
Apparently she's waiting for her friend to get off work, but he's
taking a long time. We mutually entertain each other until he arrives.
We'll call him Clash Smurf because he loved my T-Shirt with The Clash
on it. He buys us a round of drinks, and all 4 of us chat for a bit.
Then we kindly give the 2 friends some space, and we chat amongst
ourselves. He can't get over my badass t-shirt, and he buys another
round for all 4 of us. We begin another group chat when all of a
sudden, UnSmurfette storms off. The 3 of us are shocked by the
tantrum....what the hell just happened? By this time we can see that
she is jealous of the attention he's giving us. We discover they were
more than friends at one time, and she's most likely still into him.
We talk about how she must have seen this as a date and he's leading
her on. Then thunder strikes me! I say, "Wait wait wait! So you're
telling me that she got dressed up for you tonight!? She must have
tried on six of seven outfits tonight to try to look good for you!!"
Well ok, about halfway through that I was on the ground crying, but I
did manage to get all those words out eventually. I hate to say it,
but I've never laughed so hard in my life! He didn't really get it,
but Smurfette and I were rolling.
On a side note, I still text Clash Smurf, he's hysterical. I find new
friends in the oddest places.
9.27.2010
Direct Smurf
HANNA
I turned 30 just a bit ago and have been reassessing life. I don't have any answers yet, but the fact that I'm perpetually single has made me wonder if I need to take more risks and give more guys a chance. I've even been considering doing that online dating stuff. When I looked into it, it's just the same as being at a bar: You don't really know what a guy looks like until the lights come on and you can finally see him face to face, AND you have be patient with all the douchbaggery that distracts you from what you're really after. But I digress...
So, taking more risks was a decision I came to. When my neighbors invited me out to meet their friend, I decided to go along even though I had to work early the next morning. I threw a sweater over my nightgown (hey, taking more risks means going as you are too) and headed to the bar. I spent the evening chatting with the smurf who was ok looking but really smart and terribly motivated. I was pretty impressed to hit it off so well. Consequently I stayed much longer than I should have, and by the time I brought us all home I had about 4 hours to sleep before work. Smurf walked me up to my apt and wanted to see my "library" of books. I do indeed have one and I suppose this was an acceptable segue to getting in the front door. He came in, looked around and started to make small talk. He was sober, and I was a little embarrassed by the fact that all my laundry was hanging out. He turned to look at me and after he mentioned that it was really late he surprised me with, "So, am I going to get laid tonite?" Holy directness, Batman! Thank you for asking, guy with sleeves who I just met in a lesbian bar whilst parading around in my nightgown, but I don't move that fast. It's time to work on your come-on lines.
I turned 30 just a bit ago and have been reassessing life. I don't have any answers yet, but the fact that I'm perpetually single has made me wonder if I need to take more risks and give more guys a chance. I've even been considering doing that online dating stuff. When I looked into it, it's just the same as being at a bar: You don't really know what a guy looks like until the lights come on and you can finally see him face to face, AND you have be patient with all the douchbaggery that distracts you from what you're really after. But I digress...
So, taking more risks was a decision I came to. When my neighbors invited me out to meet their friend, I decided to go along even though I had to work early the next morning. I threw a sweater over my nightgown (hey, taking more risks means going as you are too) and headed to the bar. I spent the evening chatting with the smurf who was ok looking but really smart and terribly motivated. I was pretty impressed to hit it off so well. Consequently I stayed much longer than I should have, and by the time I brought us all home I had about 4 hours to sleep before work. Smurf walked me up to my apt and wanted to see my "library" of books. I do indeed have one and I suppose this was an acceptable segue to getting in the front door. He came in, looked around and started to make small talk. He was sober, and I was a little embarrassed by the fact that all my laundry was hanging out. He turned to look at me and after he mentioned that it was really late he surprised me with, "So, am I going to get laid tonite?" Holy directness, Batman! Thank you for asking, guy with sleeves who I just met in a lesbian bar whilst parading around in my nightgown, but I don't move that fast. It's time to work on your come-on lines.
9.12.2010
8.25.2010
Michael Buble Smurf
HANNA
I met a guy at a friend's party and he found me on facebook the next day so that he could ask me out. He had recently received his PhD and was interested in going back to law school. Now, I LOVE the smarties, and couldn't wait to pick this guy's brain so I readily accepted his offer to have some beers at a local brewery. After it took him 45 minutes to get ready (I assured him I wasn't going to get pretty for him) he picked me up in his huge SUV (can we say overcompensation?) and opened the door for me where good ole Michael Buble pumped from his speakers. Really now, I'm glad that you're in touch with your feminine side, but this juxtaposition of manly meets wussy was already too much to handle. BUT I went with him for drinks... well, I should say I had two drinks, he had one. He talked about himself more than he should and then explained that he wasn't going to have anymore to drink because he didn't want to drive under the influence. Fair enough, but we were there for two hours. I'm pretty sure he could have had another one. But I'm almost an alcoholic, so I guess I can't blame him for being responsible.
We left the brewery and he was heading to my place to drop me off when he surprised me by wanting another drink. "Some where in your neighborhood" he told me. Now, some of you might think that this is a bit diabolical, but I assure you that I told MB Smurf exactly what he was getting into. I took him to the local gay bar. In fact, there are usually transvestites there as well. It's a local watering hole with pool and karaoke and, of course, lots of people watching. So yes, I told him where we were going and he agreed. Throughout our adventure there he kept moving closer and closer to me as more men eyed Buble. I think the thing that put him over the top though, was when the two trannies in nun habits with disco make-up on, came up to him with leather whips asking him if he'd been naughty or nice. Now I thought this was hysterical, but he was ready to leave. He was wrapped so tightly around me I practically had to carry him out. And I did smile in some respects, because he did survive and was a good sport about it. Not that this was enough to win back any points with me, but I had more respect for him.
He brought me back home and couldn't find parking by my apt, so he just left his car running in someone else's driveway as he walked me to my door... then into my apt... then tried to get hot and heavy with me... WHILE HIS CAR WAS RUNNING. Boring. I kindly declined and sent him back to that gas guzzler outside pumping out reinvented rat pack standards.
Moral of the story: Even if you put a guy through hell during a date with the intention of just making him squirm, he will still try and get you naked. Perhaps my hints weren't subtle enough...
I met a guy at a friend's party and he found me on facebook the next day so that he could ask me out. He had recently received his PhD and was interested in going back to law school. Now, I LOVE the smarties, and couldn't wait to pick this guy's brain so I readily accepted his offer to have some beers at a local brewery. After it took him 45 minutes to get ready (I assured him I wasn't going to get pretty for him) he picked me up in his huge SUV (can we say overcompensation?) and opened the door for me where good ole Michael Buble pumped from his speakers. Really now, I'm glad that you're in touch with your feminine side, but this juxtaposition of manly meets wussy was already too much to handle. BUT I went with him for drinks... well, I should say I had two drinks, he had one. He talked about himself more than he should and then explained that he wasn't going to have anymore to drink because he didn't want to drive under the influence. Fair enough, but we were there for two hours. I'm pretty sure he could have had another one. But I'm almost an alcoholic, so I guess I can't blame him for being responsible.
We left the brewery and he was heading to my place to drop me off when he surprised me by wanting another drink. "Some where in your neighborhood" he told me. Now, some of you might think that this is a bit diabolical, but I assure you that I told MB Smurf exactly what he was getting into. I took him to the local gay bar. In fact, there are usually transvestites there as well. It's a local watering hole with pool and karaoke and, of course, lots of people watching. So yes, I told him where we were going and he agreed. Throughout our adventure there he kept moving closer and closer to me as more men eyed Buble. I think the thing that put him over the top though, was when the two trannies in nun habits with disco make-up on, came up to him with leather whips asking him if he'd been naughty or nice. Now I thought this was hysterical, but he was ready to leave. He was wrapped so tightly around me I practically had to carry him out. And I did smile in some respects, because he did survive and was a good sport about it. Not that this was enough to win back any points with me, but I had more respect for him.
He brought me back home and couldn't find parking by my apt, so he just left his car running in someone else's driveway as he walked me to my door... then into my apt... then tried to get hot and heavy with me... WHILE HIS CAR WAS RUNNING. Boring. I kindly declined and sent him back to that gas guzzler outside pumping out reinvented rat pack standards.
Moral of the story: Even if you put a guy through hell during a date with the intention of just making him squirm, he will still try and get you naked. Perhaps my hints weren't subtle enough...
8.23.2010
New York-scapades
SISTERS
We hit up NY to get away from the routine of life. As we've been in the glorious city a few times, we decided to do the Tranny Hot Mess Tour on this visit. Yes, I do mean that there were Trannies and thus oodles of gay men surrounding us throughout our adventures. Without going into EVERY single detail, I will go through the high lights... think of it as Tranny Center instead of Sports Center.
Hanna:
-Got to do the walk of shame on the subway; alas from a gay man's apt, but she's still checking that one off her list.
-Sang for two hours straight at a karaoke bar- check!
-Got hand-me-down vintage from a friend.
-Fell over in a waist-deep wave, shame.
-Kissed a sparkling giant penis on the wall.
Barbara:
-Slept on a doorstep to the apt that she was locked out of. "Hi Neighbors!"
-Bought Marc Jacobs purple amazingness.
-Had the best steak dinner ever!
-Watched in awe as two 70 year old men danced in their underwear to blasting David Guetta.
Shared:
-Swapped phones so as not to be tempted to drunk text/dial.
-Went to gay Bingo, then saw a straight man from Wall St strip at the same bar.
-Danced all night at an underwear party with thongs on, at a gay bar, and STILL managed to get felt up.
-Walked 60 blocks consecutively and then had some straight (shocking) men buy them drinks.
-Went to Fire Island, the Cherry Grove side of existence, but avoided the meat rack.
-Drank every type of liquor possible in one night: beer, wine, cider, champagne, sambucca, jack daniels, vodka, jager, port... after that we lost count.
-Saw the wondrous Porsche in all her chanteuse glory.
-Ate at the most tickity tack cafe decorated with fezes and red lighting.
-Took the following types of transport in 4 days: Airplane, Train, Taxi, Subway, Car, Ferry, Speedboat
-Saw a tragic woman from Long Island in a magenta fringe bikini trying to start a conga line at a gay pool; apparently even that's too gay for Fire Island.
We hit up NY to get away from the routine of life. As we've been in the glorious city a few times, we decided to do the Tranny Hot Mess Tour on this visit. Yes, I do mean that there were Trannies and thus oodles of gay men surrounding us throughout our adventures. Without going into EVERY single detail, I will go through the high lights... think of it as Tranny Center instead of Sports Center.
Hanna:
-Got to do the walk of shame on the subway; alas from a gay man's apt, but she's still checking that one off her list.
-Sang for two hours straight at a karaoke bar- check!
-Got hand-me-down vintage from a friend.
-Fell over in a waist-deep wave, shame.
-Kissed a sparkling giant penis on the wall.
Barbara:
-Slept on a doorstep to the apt that she was locked out of. "Hi Neighbors!"
-Bought Marc Jacobs purple amazingness.
-Had the best steak dinner ever!
-Watched in awe as two 70 year old men danced in their underwear to blasting David Guetta.
Shared:
-Swapped phones so as not to be tempted to drunk text/dial.
-Went to gay Bingo, then saw a straight man from Wall St strip at the same bar.
-Danced all night at an underwear party with thongs on, at a gay bar, and STILL managed to get felt up.
-Walked 60 blocks consecutively and then had some straight (shocking) men buy them drinks.
-Went to Fire Island, the Cherry Grove side of existence, but avoided the meat rack.
-Drank every type of liquor possible in one night: beer, wine, cider, champagne, sambucca, jack daniels, vodka, jager, port... after that we lost count.
-Saw the wondrous Porsche in all her chanteuse glory.
-Ate at the most tickity tack cafe decorated with fezes and red lighting.
-Took the following types of transport in 4 days: Airplane, Train, Taxi, Subway, Car, Ferry, Speedboat
-Saw a tragic woman from Long Island in a magenta fringe bikini trying to start a conga line at a gay pool; apparently even that's too gay for Fire Island.
8.17.2010
All Smurfed Out at Coachella
SISTERS
Our story here isn't so much about individual smurfs, but about being smurfy in general. This is a photo of us at our favorite musical event in SoCal. Here you'll see our hand crafted rompers along with matching fannypacks. Don't judge, just let the jealousy flow. Our adventure began with costuming ideas, which we will address in another blog, and ended with an empty polo field. For those of you unaware, Coachella is a 3 day music festival in the desert. Yes, that means 100+ degrees F but also a lot of diehard music fans. We set out and bought our 3-day pass along with the other necessary, um, items to take along to such an event. We bought our camp space and gathered our things, only to realize that we had way more space than we actually needed. Hanna's lightbulb went off and decided that it would be fun to share the campsite. A few posts on Facebook and we had a nice little crew of friends who we would be sharing the weekend with. This, my friends, is the definition of smufy- sharing the adventure with others and taking a chance that we might all have more in common than we realize in this relatively small world.
Smurfs in Power
HANNA
Ok, this is going to be a bit of a rant, but wtf is up with men who are my superiors and are ALREADY married or in a relationship hitting on me? I don't know if it's the chase or the thrill of the hunt, but these shennanigans have got to stop. Your world exists with one woman in it, and as this isn't Utah, I suggest you keep with that one. If you're done with her, do yourselves both a favor and be and man and END the relationship with her instead if incessantly looking like and idiot to those around you. You should not be confiding in me all the things that are unsatisfactory about your current relationship, and you definitely shouldn't be telling me how hot I am after every sip of beer you take. Thanks for nothing, jackass. Let me fill you in on a few things:
A) I look better because I'm being sympathetic and giving you attention
B) BECAUSE I don't see you as an option or a threat
C) BECAUSE I don't like you and know you're in a relationship
D) AND BECAUSE you're my BOSS.
That's the end of the story. Stop trying to flex your power over me because you think that chicks dig men with power. You're right, we totally do love men with power who respect their job and their partners.
Ok, this is going to be a bit of a rant, but wtf is up with men who are my superiors and are ALREADY married or in a relationship hitting on me? I don't know if it's the chase or the thrill of the hunt, but these shennanigans have got to stop. Your world exists with one woman in it, and as this isn't Utah, I suggest you keep with that one. If you're done with her, do yourselves both a favor and be and man and END the relationship with her instead if incessantly looking like and idiot to those around you. You should not be confiding in me all the things that are unsatisfactory about your current relationship, and you definitely shouldn't be telling me how hot I am after every sip of beer you take. Thanks for nothing, jackass. Let me fill you in on a few things:
A) I look better because I'm being sympathetic and giving you attention
B) BECAUSE I don't see you as an option or a threat
C) BECAUSE I don't like you and know you're in a relationship
D) AND BECAUSE you're my BOSS.
That's the end of the story. Stop trying to flex your power over me because you think that chicks dig men with power. You're right, we totally do love men with power who respect their job and their partners.
8.13.2010
Wussie Smurf and Dentist Smurf
BARBARA
I was at a local watering hole with my good friend Smurfette, when two smurfs approached us. They appeared to be on the average side: middle aged, average looks and personality, and one was a dentist... at least I thought they were average. After chatting about nothing for a while, I slipped away to go to the bathroom, when another smurf started to chat me up. He was a massage therapist, but hopefully he had a day job. Let’s just say Clay Aiken would have had a firmer kung fu grip.
“How does that feel?” Wussie Smurf asked.
“I don’t feel anything,” I yawned. Another pointless conversation, but I do think I blew his mind when I told him I had 6 types of oil in my kitchen alone: canola, olive, sesame seed, almond, grapeseed, and truffle... alas, no massage oil. I
digress. I was trying to figure out how to get out of this slick situation when I received a text from Smurfette telling me she was outside ready to go. When I got out there she showed me one of the greatest texts of all time. I cannot describe it, I won’t try. Just enjoy this real life text:
this is one of the songs I wrote recently. Tell Barbara to drop that looser and hang with us.
Dork Mofucka Dentist:
My name is DMD
That's a dental degree
when it comes to rhymes and you read the facts
i'm better than that motherfucker dmx
Even in the webster under "rapper"
in the alfabet i'm before that gangster.
You think he is tough cuz he has ho's,
slangs dope, shoots guns and all,
Shit I'm dealing with drugs like tylenol.
Using my special skills,
I can make my own grills,
They are not just cool and not just charmin',
They even have perfect margin.
Florida got a mouthful of cavities,
Cuz his grill was done by a bunch of nobodies.
Now he is calling me to fix his smile,
Cuz he has an overbite over a mile.
I just pimped up my baby's smile,
She was hot before now she is off the dial.
When she walks down the street and smiles,
She distracts all the drivers.
Constant honking and that is no lie,
She has to wear earphones just to get by,
And guess who she listens to without no end,
Her motherfucker dentist boyfriend.
The answer to your question is yes...Yes I did rap this out loud on the street, and yes I did dance along.
Note to smurfs: if you’re trying to impress a chick, write a rap about
your occupation. 20% of the time it works every time.
8.10.2010
Pantera Smurf, Magician Smurf and watermelon
SISTERS
It had been a long day for the sisters by 4pm. Our hangovers were just now subsiding and it was time to get out and enjoy the overcast day. We started out with a lovely little wine bar, and not feeling particularly inspired as to what to do on the 4th of July, we bought some gelato and did a walk around the block. We came upon a hotel with a rooftop bar and decided that it would be as good a place as any to watch some exploding gunpowder. We found an empty cabana, grabbed a few beers and sat down. Let me clarify, the table in front of us was not empty, it contained a bowl of watermelon slices and a bowl of half-eaten cookies.
"How much you wanna bet this is gonna be eaten before the end of the night?" asked Barbara.
"Oh, someone will definitely get drunk enough to eat it, that's a non-issue," yawned Hanna.
"But, which ONE will be eaten first? The delicious, untouched watermelon?! Eh? OR the chunky chocolate chip cookies with bites taken out of them?"
"I'm gonna have to go with the watermelon."
"We'll see."
Just then a few guys in oversized sweatshirts smiled sheepishly and brought over a pink colored drink which they offered to Barbara. Now, we don't expect that men buy us drinks, even though it is a very nice gesture. HOWEVER, when there are just two girls sitting together and it's still light outside, I think it's pretty obvious that you buy both girls a drink! Anyhow, one particular guy was extremely shy but totally mesmerized by Barbara. He would not leave her alone and what was worse was that she was actually entertaining his flacid personality. "I'm waiting for him to come out of his shell. I keep asking him questions and he only agrees with what I say." There was nothing outside of "I've been abducted by aliens" that could have made this guy interesting. And when we finally asked him what his favorite band is, he not only couldn't come up with one, but when we asked for the top 3 the first word out of his mouth was "Pantera". Boring. Now I totally understand why you're wearing a huge blue hoodie and outdated jeans, because you're still living in the 90's. However, Barbara was still giving this loser the benefit of the doubt. Hanna's the only one who's heartless.
Speaking of which, she was sitting off to one side of the cabana now not drinking for fear of falling asleep. She was greeted by another man who was very into himself, despite being a friend of Pantera. Come on guys, when you rock out with a loser it doesn't speak very highly of the rest of the crew, especially when they're the first one to hit on a girl outside your group. Let the charismatic ones make connections, then let the others be wingmen. That's the evolutionary order of things. So this guy decides to chat up Hanna who indulges him because it's more entertaining than falling asleep. Now, sarcasm is Hanna's MO, so she really puts this guy through the ringer and he does surprisingly well. She asks him what he does for a living (yes, that is an acceptable question) and he leans over and tells her, straight-faced with a twinkle in his eye "I do MAGIC". Really?! Barbara leans over and asks with a smirk on her face, "Do you have one of those t-shirts that says you're HUGE in Japan?" To which Magician smurf replies matter-of-factly, "I don't need one because it's true."
At this precise moment, as Pantera smurf has been left unattended for a mere 5 seconds, he leans over and takes a cookie from the table and offers it to his other friends and proceeds to take a bite out of it.
"You win!" whispers Hanna. "Can we please go now? We got the lamest guy eating herpies infested cookies over here and then the magician who I'm sure could conjure up some roofies if we stay around here long enough."
"Yes, but how do we escape?"
"Fireworks are starting, but they block our exit. There has to be a fire exit around here somewhere. You go to the bathroom over there and if you don't come back in 30 seconds I'm leaving too."
So Barbara left, soon followed by Hanna who was almost intercepted by Pantera. She did a swim move though, and skipped away down the fire escape. When she reached the bottom she didn't see Barbara but received a text- "Karma's a bitch. I slipped down the staircase and my leg got caught under me and my heel got caught in my underwear." Yes Barbara, Karma is a bitch.
It had been a long day for the sisters by 4pm. Our hangovers were just now subsiding and it was time to get out and enjoy the overcast day. We started out with a lovely little wine bar, and not feeling particularly inspired as to what to do on the 4th of July, we bought some gelato and did a walk around the block. We came upon a hotel with a rooftop bar and decided that it would be as good a place as any to watch some exploding gunpowder. We found an empty cabana, grabbed a few beers and sat down. Let me clarify, the table in front of us was not empty, it contained a bowl of watermelon slices and a bowl of half-eaten cookies.
"How much you wanna bet this is gonna be eaten before the end of the night?" asked Barbara.
"Oh, someone will definitely get drunk enough to eat it, that's a non-issue," yawned Hanna.
"But, which ONE will be eaten first? The delicious, untouched watermelon?! Eh? OR the chunky chocolate chip cookies with bites taken out of them?"
"I'm gonna have to go with the watermelon."
"We'll see."
Just then a few guys in oversized sweatshirts smiled sheepishly and brought over a pink colored drink which they offered to Barbara. Now, we don't expect that men buy us drinks, even though it is a very nice gesture. HOWEVER, when there are just two girls sitting together and it's still light outside, I think it's pretty obvious that you buy both girls a drink! Anyhow, one particular guy was extremely shy but totally mesmerized by Barbara. He would not leave her alone and what was worse was that she was actually entertaining his flacid personality. "I'm waiting for him to come out of his shell. I keep asking him questions and he only agrees with what I say." There was nothing outside of "I've been abducted by aliens" that could have made this guy interesting. And when we finally asked him what his favorite band is, he not only couldn't come up with one, but when we asked for the top 3 the first word out of his mouth was "Pantera". Boring. Now I totally understand why you're wearing a huge blue hoodie and outdated jeans, because you're still living in the 90's. However, Barbara was still giving this loser the benefit of the doubt. Hanna's the only one who's heartless.
Speaking of which, she was sitting off to one side of the cabana now not drinking for fear of falling asleep. She was greeted by another man who was very into himself, despite being a friend of Pantera. Come on guys, when you rock out with a loser it doesn't speak very highly of the rest of the crew, especially when they're the first one to hit on a girl outside your group. Let the charismatic ones make connections, then let the others be wingmen. That's the evolutionary order of things. So this guy decides to chat up Hanna who indulges him because it's more entertaining than falling asleep. Now, sarcasm is Hanna's MO, so she really puts this guy through the ringer and he does surprisingly well. She asks him what he does for a living (yes, that is an acceptable question) and he leans over and tells her, straight-faced with a twinkle in his eye "I do MAGIC". Really?! Barbara leans over and asks with a smirk on her face, "Do you have one of those t-shirts that says you're HUGE in Japan?" To which Magician smurf replies matter-of-factly, "I don't need one because it's true."
At this precise moment, as Pantera smurf has been left unattended for a mere 5 seconds, he leans over and takes a cookie from the table and offers it to his other friends and proceeds to take a bite out of it.
"You win!" whispers Hanna. "Can we please go now? We got the lamest guy eating herpies infested cookies over here and then the magician who I'm sure could conjure up some roofies if we stay around here long enough."
"Yes, but how do we escape?"
"Fireworks are starting, but they block our exit. There has to be a fire exit around here somewhere. You go to the bathroom over there and if you don't come back in 30 seconds I'm leaving too."
So Barbara left, soon followed by Hanna who was almost intercepted by Pantera. She did a swim move though, and skipped away down the fire escape. When she reached the bottom she didn't see Barbara but received a text- "Karma's a bitch. I slipped down the staircase and my leg got caught under me and my heel got caught in my underwear." Yes Barbara, Karma is a bitch.
8.08.2010
Genie Smurf, Smurf Mayor, and Tannest Smurf
As this is the first post, I will explain the platform: We are not here to make men look stupid, they usually do a pretty good job of that on their own. We are actually appreciators of men, and we enjoy the abundant variety- tall, dark, handsome; short, red, awkward; straight; gay; successful; loser... they can all provide some sort of entertainment. We will not throw anyone under the bus by revealing his real name so instead we will use smurf references for easy understanding. That way you can keep up with the times we will undoubtedly accidentally run into the same smurf, as I did last night. Oh, and for the first few posts we will need to catch you up to the chaotic karma that is our life, so bear with us.
HANNA
I left work after a bit of a slow night and walked with another smurfette to the local drinking hole. No sooner had we started on our way when an older gentleman followed us, walking at an excellerated pace to catch up to our speedy gait. He reeked of booze and spoke in a thick accent, asking where we were headed and what we were up to. He told me that he was known all through our local area, to which I replied, "you must be very popular" and he agreed. Even old men can be tools. He then begged me to guess what he did for a living. As we were in a part of town rife with restaurants and bars, I suspected he sold meat or booze. Wrong. He told me to "think outside my American box" so I guessed that he sold obscure animals to the zoo. Wrong again. He bored us, but luckily we had arrived at the busy bar and could plan our escape. Wrong AGAIN. Now some of you are thinking, "he's just a drunk old man, tell him to piss off" and I should have but I couldn't when he wasn't being rude, just annoying. After we got our first bucket of delicious depressants he proceeded to tell me that he could grant wishes. Damn! A Genie! I should have asked for a million bucks in retrospect, but then again, I had just started drinking and I wasn't on any hallucinogenic drugs so naturally I wasn't biting.
I made a comment on an innocent bystander's spectacles, and he was quick to pick up on my genie dilemma. He looked as you would expect Where's Waldo to look after a business meeting and he attempted to step in and save me but to no avail. So his move was to start sharing blatantly all the things he was going to do to me when he "took me home to bone". Really? Grown men in pleated pants still say bone? I suggested that perhaps I know what he does before we go back to his place, and he told me he was an entrepreneur and that he was mayor of our little neighborhood of restaurants. Wow, a Genie and the Mayor in one night!? It must have been a full moon. He assured me that the right amount of money would buy you into any mayor seat (of that I have no doubt) and then wandered off with his enormously tall friend. Rude! At least I could have checked Government Official off my list of people to bone... then again...
The third man to attempt to hit on us was unbelievably tan. We're talking worse than Magda on 'There's Something About Mary'. And if you're wondering, yes, his hair gel was offensive too. He tried twice to chat us up, and on both occasions I confronted him about his possible addiction to sunlight and suggested he go on celebrity rehab with Dr. Drew. He was overshadowed only by another guy who seemed to be promoting my porcelain-ly challenged friend as a rockstar. Who cares? This guy proceeded to tell us that we were both beautiful. Thanks. And that he would buy us a drink if we could spell his name correctly. What's with all the F$@%ing guessing games at 1am? But in this case the joke was on Rumplestiltskin Smurf... he'd hit on me two weeks prior. Same lines, same challenge. Boring. Lucky for me, I did not have to remind him of this as last call was made at the bar, and smurfette and I made our escape.
HANNA
I left work after a bit of a slow night and walked with another smurfette to the local drinking hole. No sooner had we started on our way when an older gentleman followed us, walking at an excellerated pace to catch up to our speedy gait. He reeked of booze and spoke in a thick accent, asking where we were headed and what we were up to. He told me that he was known all through our local area, to which I replied, "you must be very popular" and he agreed. Even old men can be tools. He then begged me to guess what he did for a living. As we were in a part of town rife with restaurants and bars, I suspected he sold meat or booze. Wrong. He told me to "think outside my American box" so I guessed that he sold obscure animals to the zoo. Wrong again. He bored us, but luckily we had arrived at the busy bar and could plan our escape. Wrong AGAIN. Now some of you are thinking, "he's just a drunk old man, tell him to piss off" and I should have but I couldn't when he wasn't being rude, just annoying. After we got our first bucket of delicious depressants he proceeded to tell me that he could grant wishes. Damn! A Genie! I should have asked for a million bucks in retrospect, but then again, I had just started drinking and I wasn't on any hallucinogenic drugs so naturally I wasn't biting.
I made a comment on an innocent bystander's spectacles, and he was quick to pick up on my genie dilemma. He looked as you would expect Where's Waldo to look after a business meeting and he attempted to step in and save me but to no avail. So his move was to start sharing blatantly all the things he was going to do to me when he "took me home to bone". Really? Grown men in pleated pants still say bone? I suggested that perhaps I know what he does before we go back to his place, and he told me he was an entrepreneur and that he was mayor of our little neighborhood of restaurants. Wow, a Genie and the Mayor in one night!? It must have been a full moon. He assured me that the right amount of money would buy you into any mayor seat (of that I have no doubt) and then wandered off with his enormously tall friend. Rude! At least I could have checked Government Official off my list of people to bone... then again...
The third man to attempt to hit on us was unbelievably tan. We're talking worse than Magda on 'There's Something About Mary'. And if you're wondering, yes, his hair gel was offensive too. He tried twice to chat us up, and on both occasions I confronted him about his possible addiction to sunlight and suggested he go on celebrity rehab with Dr. Drew. He was overshadowed only by another guy who seemed to be promoting my porcelain-ly challenged friend as a rockstar. Who cares? This guy proceeded to tell us that we were both beautiful. Thanks. And that he would buy us a drink if we could spell his name correctly. What's with all the F$@%ing guessing games at 1am? But in this case the joke was on Rumplestiltskin Smurf... he'd hit on me two weeks prior. Same lines, same challenge. Boring. Lucky for me, I did not have to remind him of this as last call was made at the bar, and smurfette and I made our escape.
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