Posts published during September, 2005

September 30, 2005

The Big One

Around the office lately, there’s been a lot of talk about “The One.” The One is this mysterious techy superstar who has skillz that like only .0000000000001% of the world’s population can attest to.

And even though I’m no tech superstar, I want you, dear hannihaus readers, to know I’ve got skillz to. I’ve got mad skillz, but somehow I don’t think the ability to sweat on only one half of my body or eat five pounds of pureed turnips in one sitting makes me a highly marketable candidate for… for… well, let’s face it, it doesn’t make me a qualified candidate for anything really.

But I digress.

Okay, to recap, around the office we’re always talking about The One, right? That being said, I didn’t raise an eyebrow when I got an e-mail from a coworker with the subject line “The Real (Big) One”.

Nope, there were no alarms going off in the bat cave, there were no red flags being raised, and no elevation on the that’s-some-crazy-crap-o- meter. Things were, for all intensive purposes, business as usual.

So, included in said Real (Big) e-mail is a hyperlink that I assumed would take me somewhere work related, as I was, indeed, at work. But then, I see it. At the end of the URL are these words:

“godspenis.html”

I clicked through, and this is what I saw: (Click here for the divine dillywacker).

As a result of having seen this glorious, nature-made spectacle, I had no choice but to engage in a game of verbal, penis-centered ping pong. Between doing actual work, the day was fairly peppered with witty commentary that included the likes of “It’s not that big” or “that’s what she said”.

And now I need your help. What say you dear hannihaus readers? Have we a caption for the floating phallice?
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PS we are still taking applications for the super fabulous Hännihaus personal assistant. Although the decision rests solely with me, I would like to invite you to chime in. We’ll have a poll posted on Sunday, so apply today!

12 comments

September 29, 2005

I’m Freaking Famous!

Well, well, well look who got her own dedicated post on a very special lady’s blog?

It’s me baby, me!

I am uber flattered, because yes, I love mrtl’s blog. I am so enamoured that I have decided to take it as my lover. I will kiss it’s eyelids in the morning, whispering, “You are the sweetest piece of blog this side of the arctic circle.” I will make it herbal tea and wheat-free crumpets for snacking on at mid-day. At night I will make sweet, sweet bloggy love, telling it over and over “je t’adore.”

But enough about me and my lover. I’ve got a problem today that I didn’t have yesterday, and I need to get it worked out right quick and in a hurry.

You see, now that I’m famous, I’m going to need a personal assistant.

Because of my sudden rise to stardom, I think it only appropriate that I employ an assistant to help me handle all the phone calls, e-mails, and talk show appearances that will clearly result from “Hännification”.

My criteria, should you have an interest in applying to be my assistant, is simple. One need only be able to perform, with complete competency the following types of tasks:

• Tell me I am “so gorgeous dahling” about fifty times a day, even though I have assbrows (TM summer), even though I oft do things like wear clearly-visible black, granny panties beneath light, linen khakis.

• Keep me in a constant supply of Evian. Substitutions such as zephyr “that’s not water, it’s shite” hills and dasani “you make me wanna vomit” water are *not* acceptable as they taste like they came out of the wrong side of a sewage pipe, and I have a very discriminating palate.

• Relatedly, I will require that you put some of this toilet bowl cleaner- looking stuff in my water, because I like my blue green algae shaken, not stirred.

• I will need you to knit sweaters for my cats when they shave themselves.

• I will need you to make friends, and introduce me to boys who wear makeup, especially boys who sing in a band called My Chemical Romance.

• Because all the other hot, young celebs are doing it, I will need you to find me a kabala teacher and one of those cute, red bracelets.

•For that same reason, I will also need a homeless man to take pictures with so that others may be repulsed by my pompous behavior.

• I need the thrill of the road, and the smell of salt air in my face

• I need a high colonic spa treatment given by you bi-weekly

• I need life, liberty and the pursuit of Hänniness

• I need

Oh yeah, one last thing, this position doesn’t pay… you just get to piggyback on my infamy. But maybe, if you’re real lucky, the paparazzi will take pictures of us drinking pumpkin spice frappucinos together at Starbucks. That being said, why don’t you live life like a rockstar? Interested applicants can apply today!

6 comments

September 28, 2005

I’m Sick of Being Serious

The other day, worried that I was being too staunchy and uptight around the office, I turned to the girl at the desk next to mine and said, “Hey, I’m worried I’m not fun. Do you think I’m all business?”

For a brief second, a wave of surprise played out on her, typically, serene face. And then, without warning, she began laughing maniacally. Amused by my comment, she took an impromptu survey. Great news! Everyone polled in the same. I didn’t get voted off the island, but I did get laughed out of my cubicle!

Long story short, I guess I’m not all business after all. And thank goodness for that.

In the spirit of all things fun and funny, I present my gift to you on this, the most humpiest of hump days:

Click here for a message from Hänni

Just for today, dear hannihaus readers, let’s forget about attaining world peace, ending global hunger, and locating weapons of mass destruction. I say we all just grab a frosty beverage, (Evian for me, please), and Woogle ‘til the cows come home.

Why don’t you show me what you made? Your participation delights me.

11 comments

September 27, 2005

Eating Crow

Ok, I am an idiot. I feel really bad about the last post so, for the first time in hannihaus history, I removed something that had already been published.

It was rude, and highly uncouth, and totally misrepresentative of who I am and what this blog is about. It was one of those things that seemed like a good idea at the time, but then, eight hours later when you wake up, and your brain is all foggy from some misspent monkeyshines, you realize that you have been a Grade-A Jackass.

Note to self: If you ever have the notion of “I think I might regret this in the morning” then DON’T EFFING POST IT.

I’m so sorry, dear hannihaus readers. For my trespasses, I hope you can forgive.

So, I’m not sure how to make this right, except maybe we can do a little trash talking.

Let’s talk about me and my toes.

My 10 little piggys, they are entirely hairy. And when I say hairy, I’m not talking about a cute little poof, no I’m talking full-on, werewolf lady, kids-mistaking-them-for-fuzzy-black-caterpillars hairy.

And … I’ve never said this here before, but if I don’t take care of it, the same can be said of my upper lip.

Ooh, what do we think about that?

And yeah, while we’re at it, let’s add my enormous eyebrows to this scary-hairy discussion.

You know, I read online that like an umbrella shields us from the rain, our eyebrows shield our eyes from excessive sweat. I guess that’s a good thing for me that they’re huge,because I sweat like a pig at a luau when I’m running… or driving… or let’s face it, I’ve got tide pools forming in my armpits this very second!

And guess what folks, (this one should really gross you out), I hardly ever wear deodorant!

Yeah, it’s disgusting. I mean, it’s freakin’ 90 degrees out every day, and I’m going au natural. You know why? Because I have the worst hygiene habits ever, and sometimes I forget.

And even worse, at other times, I just don’t feel like giving the effort.
crystal
And you know what, when I actually do make an attempt to address my armpits, I’m not wearing deodorant! Too much aluminum, too many harmful chemicals too close to my tiny boobs. I am a hippy, and as such, I rub my pits with a salt crystal.

No joke.

I am also having a really bad about of acne right now, and there’s a volcanic-looking eruption right in the center of my forehead.

I have chronic halitosis.

I jut in front of people at the grocery store.

I am scum.

I was wrong.

I am sorry.

8 comments

September 25, 2005

Doing My Scottish Ancestors Proud

At long last the spinning has stopped and cellular homeostasis has (nearly) been restored. Having purged itself of a Friday night spent drinking and debauching, Hänni’s body is, once again, happy.

Yes, I attended a swank cocktail party this weekend where the night’s main activities included dancing ‘til my tootsies bled and tossing many, many adult beverages down ye olde hatch.

My dress of choice: Little, black.
My drink of choice: Appletini, green and – if you’ve had enough of em – mean.

And now, for your reading pleasure, I would like to present Friday Night: A Poem.

1 martini, 2 martini, 3 martini, 4
Hänni did a bad thing,
And dropped one on the floor

The crowd did gasp
Whence broke the glass
And Hänni had no more…

Glass that is, not alcamahol silly

Because…

Sans glass stems
Hänni made some friends
Who served with plastic cups!

Rock lobsters, lemon drops and buttery nipples, oh my.

So…anyone else kill some brain cells this weekend? Confess in comments and let your sins be absolved dear hannihaus readers.

Til next, adieu!

PS Happy Birthday Niccy B!

15 comments

September 22, 2005

Stress Sucks

Take caution gentle readers… the mistress of the haus is in a foul, foul mood.

Work was the worst today! I’ve got unbearable deadlines as four major projects loom like dark, heavy clouds just on the horizon. And these clouds, they aren’t your regular, garden variety black clouds. Hell no, dear hannihaus readers, these particular clouds signal something more sinister.

I am afraid, gentle readers, that a shit storm is a-brewing, and I, Employee Supreme, am on the front line waiting for the ugly, and quite possibly ungodly, fall out.

Ever spent an afternoon contemplating how to clone yourself in an effort to increase productivity using only those tools immediately available to you – i.e. paper clips, highlighters, and those breast milk pills you take for indigestion?

Guess what? I have.

So yeah, in an effort to cope with my S-T-R-E-S-S I’ve found myself needing a little something to get me through the day. No, I’m not talking about alcohol. I’m hardcore.

I like to put a little something on my tongue.

I might be an addict, but I’m not ashamed. My drug of choice, it’s no bake cookies. And guess what? I’ve just had a half dozen of those tasty little bitches.

…And I know what you’re thinking. You’re like Oh My God, Miss Veggie Queen is eating something that wasn’t harvested from the earth just this afternoon. But you know what folks? I can’t believe I’m saying this – because I’ve certainly never said it before and I’ll probably never say it again – but this dear hannihaus readers, this is no time for nutrition!

Regardless, I realize the cookies will run out soon, and I’m too lazy to make more. That being said, I need to learn to cope real quick. I’ve tried breathing, running and yoga, but I gotta be honest, I don’t find downward-facing dog all that relaxing. Staring at your belly button while bent in half like some crazy jackknife, well that’s more screwy than soothing.

But I digress.

Anyone else got any ideas on how to beat the workin’ woman’s blues? Be a saint and share, why don’t you?

203 comments

September 21, 2005

Gerard Way’s Lover?

Question O’ The Day:

The still on the left is the hottie from My Chemical Romance’s new, epic Ghost of You video. The gurl on the right, well that’s me. People keep telling me that I look like the MCR girl, but after having watched the video a zillion times, I’m just not sure. (View the video here.)

Even if I don’t see a definite resemblance, I am happy to be compared to a music video vixen. It’s much cooler than being likened to a… let’s say… a purple fraggle. Oh wait, been there, done that.

And yeah, what makes this comparison doubly flattering is its connection to screamo-emo outfit, My Chemical Romance which I love, love, love. Admittedly though, more than kick ass songs about prison, revenge, and cemetary drives, what I really love about MCR is its sexy lead singer, Gerard Way.

Yes, for some it’s Brad Pitt, and for others there’s Collin Farrell, Johnny Depp, or even Fabio. But for me, there is no one more crush worthy than Gerard.

Dear Gerard,

If you’re reading this, I just want you to know that I have something all your other fans don’t. I am not 14. I am, in fact, old enough to smoke, drink, drive and (here’s the clincher)

have consensual sex.

Just thought you should know…

xoxo

Hänni

*Whew*, is it getting hot in herre?

Anyway, dear hannihaus readers, do I look like the MCR video vixen? Yay or nay? Am looking forward to your comments!
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For the fans:

NEW! The My Chemical Romance dvd, Life on The Murder Scene has been released! It rocks. If you don’t own LOTMS buy it here
Wanna see the promo? Look here:Quicktime
Mikey Way has MySpace. Check it out.
Check out more I’m-obsessed-with-the-sexiness-of-Gerard-Way stuff here.

5 comments

September 20, 2005

Googlebomb

Because it’s only Tuesday –*sigh*- and we need to have some fun.

Do this:

1. Go to Google
2. Enter “failure” into the search box
3. Choose “I’m Feeling Lucky”

4. – If you are a liberal – Chuckle with evil glee, maybe throw in a little mwa ha ha somewhere.

4. – If you are a republican – You should laugh too. It’s funny! And I know you have a sense of humor. How else can you explain how a grown man who needs to ask permission to go potty was elected president of the United f*ing States?

9 comments

September 19, 2005

Yarrrr!

The bad news is… it’s Monday. The good news is… it’s a holiday!

Avast me beautys and bilge rat swine alike! Buckle your swash and bring to the starboard yer finest barrel of grog. It’s International Talk Like a Pirate Day!

That is all ye swarthy land lubbers.

Regards and yo ho ho,

Cap’n Hester Sharkbait
Scourge of the Seas
Wench o’ The Haus

P.S. Aye my hearties, get yer pirate name here. And then, leave yer new name in me comments. Do it smartly, or I’ll make ye walk the plank!

4 comments

September 18, 2005

Regardless, I’m Still Not Shaving My Legs Today

Back in February 2004 the Onion did a satirical piece about the razor wars entitled “Fuck Everything, We’re Doing Five Blades.” From the article that brought us this tasty jingle, “Hey, shaving with anything less than five blades is like scraping your beard off with a dull hatchet,” we also read the following:

You’re taking the “safety” part of “safety razor” too literally, grandma. Cut the strings and soar. Let’s hit it. Let’s roll. This is our chance to make razor history. Let’s dream big. All you have to do is say that five blades can happen, and it will happen. If you aren’t on board, then fuck you. And if you’re on the board, then fuck you and your father. Hey, if I’m the only one who’ll take risks, I’m sure as hell happy to hog all the glory when the five-blade razor becomes the shaving tool for the U.S. of “this is how we shave now” A.

Obviously, in 2004 the idea of a five blade razor was ridiculous. Today, according to CNN, it’s a reality.

The Onion – Feb. 04

CNN Money – Sept. 05

There’s an old saying that goes, “It’s funny, because it’s true.” But perhaps, in this case, the saying should be “It’s funny, and then it’s true.”