A Bit of Advice

I think its time I used this blog to better the world. I need to put my selfish ways aside and help my fellow citizens make the right choices in their lives. So, from now on, I will be adding an occasional entry full of "worldly advice that will make you a more awesome person, and possibly keep you out of jail".

Today's advice:
If you move into a new home, and then go to a local liquor store for a bottle of wine, and the cashier gives you a free bottle of Crown Royal to welcome you to the neighborhood....say thank you and leave....and don't go back.

If you do happen to go back one night, a few weeks later, with your slightly intoxicated boyfriend, you could get into a sticky situation. It is possible that the same generous cashier will engage you in an angry conversation about the bastard that is 'Total Beverage' when you ask why he doesn't carry any wonderful local Colorado beer. He then may somehow convince you to help him turn off all of the neon signs in his store, teach you how to use his high tech register, and convince you to give him a ride to his home...which is a basement apartment half a block away. He may then tell you that his name is Moses and he is a convicted felon with six bachelor degrees. He may not explain why a man with six degrees is a liquor store cashier. Perhaps he will even invite you into his apartment for some herbal therapy, which you may agree to because the situation is so awkward that your and your boyfriend's curiosity simply gets the best of you. As you enter his apartment, he may explain that the two small children sleeping on the couch do not look remotely familiar. You may recall that he is a felon. A teenage girl checking her myspace on a computer might remind him that one child is his neice...and the other child is a mystery to her as well. He may invite you to his bedroom where you may smoke something from a certain device while Moses tells you that the country is owned by a bank which may be owned by aliens. He might even introduce you to his wife....Sugar. She might not appreciate your laughter when you learn that her name is Sugar. She may inform you that she was given that name at birth but now prefers to go as "Shug Dizzle Izzle". She may not appreciate when your drunk, stoned boyfriend quickly responds with "for shizzle my nizzle". You might feel the need to leave at this point. It may be a good idea. You will probably not be able to stop laughing or calling your boyfriend "Shug" for at least three days. You will both agree that you are far too old to ever again engage in such activities. You will also probably have a heightened level of love and appreciation for your boyfriend for experiencing such a night with you...and later regretting such a night.
Probably. Maybe. Perhaps.

I need more vitamin c

Have you seen the commercial for that cold/flu medicine with vitamin c? There's a lady in her office all sniffly and sneezy and her coworkers are talking smack about how she's addicted to vitamin c and won't take conventional medicine because the good ole c is far superior. So they trick her into taking their medicine because it says 'vitamin c' on the box. I hate that commercial. Don't those bitches know that there was once a time when Dayquil didn't exist and your only hope of beating your cold is chowing down on every orange in sight? Yeah, so maybe back in those days it was a bit more common for folks to straight up die from a wee little cough, but whatever. Some people can't take cold/flu medicine. Some people made bad choices in high school, took a few too many dayquils, got really high, blurred their vision for three days and forgot their own name, and now their bodies freak the hell out when a gel cap comes into the room. Some people might take a cold pill and end up violently shaking, throwing up, and spewing obscenities to the heavens. So maybe those bitches shouldn't talk shit about oranges because maybe, just maybe, that's some peoples' only hope, ok!? Back off my 'c' bitch. Yeah, I'm stuffy and achy and cranky and sneezy. Yeah I feel like a dump truck is doing donuts in my skull. But you can't trick me with your cleverly disguised medicine. I know whats really in that box. That's no vitamin c mister. Now, if someone feels like doing a good deed, please go buy me some oranges because I am all out and I think its effecting my thought process.

Angry Beavers and Coors Light

Last night, the boy and I made a trip to the Adam's County Fair. Growing up in Germany, I have high hopes for a fair. I imagine great beer, juicy brats, loud music, beautiful soldiers, and scary rides. Apparently, stateside festivals are a little different. They attract a type of person that I did not think resided in Colorado. I was wrong. So very wrong. I learned a lot about people, culture, and farm animals yesterday and I'd like to share this awakening with you.

We got to the fairgrounds around 4:30, which it seems was far too early. The rides were not running, the games were not playing, and the food was just hitting the grill.

We wandered around for a bit, got some bbq on a stick and crappy beer, and talked to a vendor about how my moisturizer is giving me cancer. After that enlightening conversation, we discovered the farmer's mecca at the fair. There were giant tents filled with animals, and people hustling about everywhere. After a few confused moments, we realized these animals were engaging in some sort of beauty contests.

The first animal I met was this horse. I took his picture because he reminded me of Matthew McConaughey.

Next, I discovered Olivia Newton John's fan club. I'm still not sure why these sheep were wearing spandex, but it was entertaining.

They weren't getting physical, physical...but they were looking fly and that's all that mattered.

Next, I met a pig who's either narcoleptic, or a lush. Or perhaps both.

About two minutes after taking that last picture, I was attacked by his cousin. Okay, maybe attacked is a slight exaggeration, but there was a large pig, running in my direction, and a boy chasing it with a stick. It was traumatizing.

Next, we moved on to the "Small caged animals" pageant. There were quite a few interesting rabbits. Did you even know there were multiple kinds of rabbits? There are actually rabbits who are small, and not just because they are babies, and there are also rabbits that are almost as big as my dog. Well, maybe as big as your dog.

This rabbit used his double chin as a pillow, which I thought was genius.

This bunny's hair was so crazy that you couldn't even find his face. Unless that's his butt. I'm pretty sure its his face.

This one was just cool.

He was for sale. I considered bringing him home, but then I remembered that rabbits eat your face while you sleep. So I changed my mind.

Next, I learned that if you kneel down and attempt to take a picture of a caged turkey, he instantly think you are going to pluck all his feathers out, stuff an onion up his butt, and throw him in the oven. This turkey was trying to make this process easier by fluffing himself up to make his feathers more accessible for the plucking. That was nice of him. Then he tried to bite my face.

It was about this time that I realized there was poo on my shoe. That's when we headed to the Monster Truck show. At the Miss Adam's County Piggy show, there were lots of wranglers, big belt buckles, and cowboy boots. At the monster truck show, there were many tank tops, receding hair lines, and not so many teeth. There was however this rebellious little girl who seemed to like beaded bracelets. The boy made jokes about raving skanks and Ecstasy. Who knows. Oh, there were also trucks. Big ones. Monsters, if you will.

After the show, I ran into this guy, twice. I took the second encounter as fate, and a reason to take his picture.

Before we went home, the boy won a prize for me...well more for our dog.

He was quite proud. He informed me that the stuffed animal was from the show "Angry Beavers". I made the angry beaver ride a tractor.

When we got home, Rosco was quite please with his beaver. Then he ripped its nose off and spilled his insides all over my living room. The angry beaver made me angry, so he now lives in the dumpster.

Well, that was my night. I learned a lot about animals, and poo, and trucks, and overalls. I learned that the boy likes to tell baby cows about his love of veal. I don't think he even eats veal, he just likes to tell stories to animals. And I learned that its perfectly ok to go to the fair in overalls and no shirt. G'night.

I fought the law...and the beer won.

So if you know me at all, you probably know that I have a ghetto entrepreneurial urge living inside me. More often than not, this leaves me broke and disappointed. Today, it leaves me drunk at a bar.

So I did a little research and discovered that Colorado, as a state, has no scalping laws. Within about four minutes of this discovery, I owed ticketmaster around a thousand dollars. I bought the maximum allowed tickets to the shows I was sure would sell out. My first venture was for a band I'd never heard, but after a little research I discovered are quite popular with the tweens. Little did I know that grown men would sell a testicle to get their daughters a ticket to see these Jonas boys. I still have my doubts about their supposed sibling..ry. Crazy marketing if you ask me. So anyway, those boys bought me a tank of gas which I was very grateful for. And they also convinced me that I could make more than just gas money in this business.

However, I quickly learned that there is a reason the guys selling tickets on the corner always have holes in their shirts. Being a professional ticket scalper ain't no easy task. Long story short, if a show doesn't sell out, and instead decides to drop ticket prices by ten dollars, you end up alone, broke, and drunk at CB&Potts. It's a sad life. Thank god my iPhone has typing correction. If it weren't for that, this blog would look more like this...

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That's right bitches, be grateful.



Update...

I just logged in to see what sort of mess I'd typed up yesterday, and its a bit of a doozy. I arrived at the concert three hours before my boyfriend, and (after selling my extra tickets for a painfully low price) instead of waiting outside in the heat, I chose to go to a bar. Seemed like a good idea at the time...

Also, thank you to the 14 year old boys who bought my tickets, you saved me some tears.

And for anyone that may be curious...Both the Flobots and Offspring rocked the fuckin house. Go see them. Twice. (Just don't ask me for tickets, cause I won't be buying extras)