X-ER-THIGHS

For the last hour I've been coming up with brilliant reasons to avoid going to the gym after work today. See, if I don't eat anything for the rest of the day, it'll be like I burned off at least 600 calories and I don't even burn that many calories when I do go to the gym, so why even go? Duh. I really really do need to go since I didn't do hip hop dance class this week nor did I go to the gym at all though I pinkie swore with myself that I would do 30 mins of workout each and every day after work. . . guess I'll have to break my own pinkie . . . . AGAIN. The only working out was done on Sunday, when Axel snuck me into Gold's Gym in the Castro where he is a member. We spent the whole time doing a bajillion butt machines. I have never seen so many butt machines in one gym in my entire life. . . . then again, it is in the Castro . . . . sooooooooo (sheepish shrug) whatcha gonna do? The worst machine is called the Butt Buster and it is this crazy contraption where you actually have to strap your arms and ankles into the machine, then seductively apply KY Jell. . . ummm never mind. Whilst working out we kept having stupid conversations like this under our cumulative breath:

Axel: See that guy with the butt?

Leslie: The one in the unitard?

Axel: I bet he's a dancer.

Leslie: Whatever he is, he's been giving me the hairy eyeball.

Axel: No, he was totally checking ME out.

Leslie: You wish.

I sorta believe that that Sunday workout should carry me through until next Sunday, though I'm pretty positive that's not how it works.



I kid you not, my hair looks EXACTLY like that kid's right now.

P Port Pix

Wanna see the worst passport picture of me ever? When Axel saw this his immediate response was "you can get a new picture taken, right?" to which I responded accordingly, "No . . . . . my anchorman hair will withstand the test of time, travel, and beyond."

Did you know this movie existed?

Huh, whaaaa?

WHY IS THE WORLD SHARING MY BRAIN!?!? Magillicutty!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayrantee It!

Do you remember back in the 80s when the radio used to play all those Men's Wearhouse commercials where it was like an actual voicemail from a 'customer' left on the Men's Wearhouse answering machine? Some customer would leave a message and gush about their experience at Men's Wearhouse and how it like saved their career/wedding day/life? Did I ever tell you that I used to call Men's Wearhouse and leave fictional messages about how my husband had a last minute conference in Chicago and didn't have a suit and how he waltzed into the Chicago Men's Wearhouse and in less than an hour walked out in a brand new suit and his career was literally saved by the fabulousity of that Men's Wearhouse suit? And shock of all shocks, my messages never made it to the radio and that really pissed me off. . . like they could tell the difference between a 12 year old girl pretending to be a satisfied wife and a real wife? Whatevsssss!

Today at work, Yedi goes "Why is it that whenever you go to the bathroom you run like crazy? I can hear you running in the hallway. Do you have some sort of bladder problem?" So I explained to him, "I imagine I'm in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom when they are in that little cart on those tracks and that huge, gigantor ball is rolling down the tracks after them and they are about to get crushed . . . I pretend I'm outrunning that massive ball" . . . and by Yedi's blank expression I sorta wish I had just lied and said I've got a bladder infection.

Rhoid Rage

I just got back from the women's bathroom on our floor and whilst washing my hands I noticed a half used tube of hemorrhoid ointment sitting next to the soap. What is THAT all about? How do you accidentally leave that behind in an office building restroom!? Also, next to the women's restroom is a door and above the door is a sign that reads 'Telephone Room' and one can 99.99999% of the time hear a phone ringing from behind the door! I picture this gigantor telephone in there just ringing and ringing and ringing . . . . and I bet it's red and I bet it links you to the President of the United States of America.

MY HAIRS

This chick is SOOOOOOOOOOO copying my 'wing' haircut it's not even funny.

Greatest Picture of My Dad Ever

Yes, that is a huge foot my dad is about to enter.

T Morgan

And what is up with 30Rock? It used to be so freaking funny. Now, something has changed. And have you noticed that Tracy Morgan is anorexic? He looks like he dropped 60 Lbs? But when I google 'tracy morgan skinny' nothing comes up!? QTF?

Things that make me cry

THIS freaking commerical

2 Lips

So I get this lovely card in the mail yesterday. It's a picture of a bouquet of red tulips.

Methinks to myself "Self? Who sent me this beautiful, classy card? Did someone just now remember my birthday only 7 months late? . . . . Dad?"

I open up said card and read the following: This is to remind you that it is time for your gynecological check-up

Sooooooo many questions.

Why is this elaborate doctor's appointment reminder so over the top? Whatever happened to the phone call or a simple, plain post card reminder? And Tulips? TWO LIPS? A bit heavy handed aren't we Dr. Gynecology? My gyno is about 110 years old and I love the guy, but I've never received such a smarmy card from him in the past. Also, check out the freaking stamp he used on the back of the card. Is this Vaginatown USA or what?

A&E Intervention - Leslie

My name is Leslie, L-E-S-L-I-E . . . . (facing camera) and I am a chronic A&E Intervention watcher. (cut to photos of Leslie age 3).
Du, no but seriously, I freaking love this show and it's gettin' kinda hectic. So I come home from work today and I walk through the hall and WHOA . . . I'll paint a picture . . .
Leslie: Whoa! What are all you guys doing here?
Ken Seeley (interventionist): Hi Leslie. You're in a room full of people who love you.
Axel: Have a seat.
Leslie: Ummm, okaaay. (sits next to Axel and Potsey).
Potsey: Mom, you're not a mom to me anymore.
Leslie: Huh? When did you starting speaking English?
Potsey: Never mind that. I need to read this to you. (puts on reading glasses and clears throat). Your addiction to watching Intervention all the time has negatively affected me in the following ways . . . . (30 minutes later) . . . I LOVE YOU MOM.
Ken: I usually don't let dogs speak during these things but . . . .
Leslie: But I DON'T HAVE A PROBLEM!!!
Eddie: (through tears) Please accept this wonderful gift we are offering you today. (sniff)
Leslie: Eddie? What are YOU doing here?? Your wife is about to give birth! You need to be in San Diego! Does she know you're here? QTFFFF!?
Eddie: That's all noise. . . unless you say yes today, that's all just noise.
Leslie: Whaaaaaaaaa?
Axel: If you don't accept this help that we are offering you today, our relation will change in the following ways.
Leslie: Laughing, no seriously guys. . . . are you for real?
Eddie: NOISE! (blows nose)
Axel: I will take my laptop away from you and block Youtube from showing recaps of Intervention. I will block the Intervention website as well. I will not do the dishes.
Leslie: You never do the dishes anyway.
ummmm . . . . . this is turning into a big fat coldy. . . .. methinks this joke has gone on long enough. .. . hmmm?

Domo Arigato, Mr. Roboto

So for a while I was being all hardcore communist on limiting myself to only black coffee in the mornings because of my past as a NutraSweet junkie. I used to drink like 2-3 Diet Peach Snapples a day and pour a packet of NSweet in my coffee in the morning along with my sweet sweet sugar beat chemical partially hydrogenated soybean and/or cottonseed oil, sodium stearoyl lactylatemate CoffeeMate creamer shabadoo. For the past month I've been going black . . . . but that whole saying about "never going back" doesn't really apply to me. I've started adding the ol 'Mate' to my coffee in the morning and it's like I crave that nasty chemical now. Eh . . . . at least I've still given up the cancer inducing faux suges, right? (or am I trading one carrageenan for another hmmmm? maybe we'll never know).
Dude, you have to start watching the Bachelorette. . . . though now the point is moot and the moot is point, since next week is the final finale. Last night 'D' kicked off Jeremy who was like a robot man. Seriously, he had this insanely muscular body, as if created in a lab. . . by a mad gay scientist and his posture was like so ridic erect (yes POSTURE) and when he walked, it was like watching somebody do the robot. . . like his arms bent 90 degrees at the elbow and moved perfectly with his stride, and his eyebrows moved independently of each other? What's up with that? Don't you know only robots do that, guy!?! He was a robobachelor and she should have started calling him "Bots" . . . but she didn't . . . she just broke his little animatronic heart. Look at him and digame, Bot Or Not? Movingon.org, so D's down to 2 and it was so fake fakery b/c after breaking up with Bots last night, she did all this super lame wiping of the eyes as if she were crying, and she kept sniffling, but there was no snot and/or tears, and then she just turned around and went back to the remaining 2 finalists and was all unicorns and gumdrops and smiling all over the place. APOX ON YOU Bachelorette!