Posts archived in Friends

February 25, 2002

PDA is A-Okay

A few weeks ago, I updated my list of future careers to include spy. I recently went on a spy mission; I was to find examples of PDA and write about them for my soc. class. Sorm and I headed to the Midwinters Ball in search of Cinderellas with sore feet. Although this is the “semi formal” evening, girls are prancing in gowns that glitter, and guys are neatly groomed in crisp suits and dapper neckties.

I myself am wearing a winter parka and blue jeans. Sorm is wearing a winter coat as well, and a knit cap that makes his ears stick out ridiculously. All I can think is, “Who let the elves out?”

From my cushy couch, I can see a large group of Asians to my right. Some military brats with adorable girlfriends in modest gowns sit adjacent to me. A group of about 8 kids with glasses and bad hair brush past me on their way out. These girls and guys are somewhat segregated, and I imagine this group is into computers and fantasy games. Ballrooms and chivalry are not their forte, but they are trying. There are also some pompous singleton guys milling about. They are mostly members of the German Club, the event hosts.

After getting an eyeful in the epicenter of this event, I head outside into the deep, dark, night where the giddy couples, forced out by the closing of Squires, descend. This is where I see the most interesting form of PDA. Across the parking lot my eye catches on a gorgeous black and white dress. It looks like the one Julia Roberts wore to the Oscars the year she won for Erin Brockavich. This dress is fabulous, it?s very deep black, but in the night, a splinter of white shines and beckons for attention.

I notice the girl in her exquisite gown is walking with two gentlemen. All three seem to be in a playful mood, as they hop on benches and periodically push into each other. I assume this girl is with one of the guys, and that the other dude is just a friend. But as I watch a little more, I realize my assumption may be wrong. As they exit the parking area, both men draw closer to each other, until there is probably an inch between their hands. The girl, meanwhile, is lagging behind, and is definitely being ignored.

The proximity between the men leads me to believe that perhaps they are in a relationship with each other, or at least that there is some romantic tension between them. I imagine the latter, that perhaps they are straight boys who enjoy football and beer, and are having a hard time denying the curiosity.

Maybe there is inquisitiveness in the two boys that can only be cured by a good sexual romp behind bedroom doors.

… So how did I feel about the PDA I witnessed that night? I thought it was fabulous. Why be offended by kisses and caresses? No, I’m too busy being offended by bigotry, violence, intolerance and those Elimidate tv shows. In short, I cannot wrinkle my nose in disgust, but look to the cuddly couple playfully smacking each other’s rumps, and smile.

This is 007, and I’m out.

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February 15, 2002

It’s the end of the world as we know it

Hello beloveds,

As you may have noticed, I have taken a little sabattical from blogging for the past week. In lieu of recent life-changing events, I had decided to lay off the blogging till I got some things together, and guess what? You are lucky lucky lucky lucky, cause i figured some things out, and like polyester pants, I’m back.

———————————————————————————————————————————-
What have I learned most recently? A) I am an empowered woman. A trip to the Vagina Monologues reminded me that I’m damn lucky to be a Vagina. I could relate the whole experience, but would just like to leave you with this quote from my male Hanni House fan club prez dr peej, ” I feel inadequate.”

I think I speak for every Vagina when I say women feel inadequate on a daily basis, whether in looks or in the workforce, or whatever. But i’ve learned that, in fact, by virtue of our very existence, we women are fabulous. Watch out boys. In the words of my neighbor, darling Amanda, “We are wicked bitches!”

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t hate men. They can’t help that their vaginally – impaired. And they’re awfully good at certain things. Like mowing the lawn. And scratching their nuts. Hurray for that.

B) I have learned that I have senioritis, and it’s totally cool! Forget the fact that I’m not a senior or anything. Anyway, I have been falling asleep, and failed to fully study for two tests this week. For those of you who know me, you may be thinking “did hell freeze over?”. No, hell didn’t freeze over, the world did not come to an end, and Canadians, unfortunately, are still with us.

What can I say? I’m just different. I actually thought i’d study last night for a test I had this morning at 11 am. However, about two glasses of sparkling white wine convinced me otherwise. Instead of studying, I basically watched movies and ate some candy hearts. After all, it was Black Thursday – or Valentines Day for the coupled world. Or “Deez Nutz Day”, if your name is Hino Banzon.

So A + B = I’m one lazy feminazi! And you should be one too!

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February 6, 2002

True Romance

As you may have noticed, I’ve given the ’sparkler a fabulous makeover. While, unfortunately, the comments section is still broken, I was able to replace the shitty looking color set with something a little more attractive. In lieu of my difficult relationship with blogspot and it’s server issues, I will be moving this blog, very soon, to filebox. The marriage has ended – but don’t worry kids – bigger and better things are yet to come.

Enough shop talk. Let’s talk about romance. ‘Tis the season after all.

I gotta tell you, nothing says romance like electric panties . Who cares about roses and chocolates, when you can vibrate in public/pubic places? Ewww.

It’s electric
boogie woogie woogie
and you can’t hold it
it’s electric
boogie woogie woogie

that one was more for the ladies, but I wouldn’t want to exclude the men. For Mr. Machismo, nothing says sexy like a big cock. What lady wouldn’t want to be woken at daybreak by this rooster? Cock-a-doodle-do.

Hot yet?

Sexy enough?

Need to go smoke a cigarette?

Then go now my child, but take the things you have learned in this blog to heart. There may be no sex in the champagne room, but you can put sex in your pants – if you’ve got a sense of romance, and a credit card.

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February 5, 2002

SORM loses his virginity, a saga

When I woke up this morning, I didn’t realize what a glorious day it would turn out to be. I didn’t realize that the heavens would shake, the moons of jupiter would collide, or that the doves of Rome would sing a new beatiful song. Yes, someone’s life changed today. And that someone is my good friend, Son Of Richard Marx. At approximately 12 pm today, SORM lost his virginity – his cottage cheese virginity.

like a virgin
touched for the very first time
like a viiiirgin
Madonna – like a virgin

I remember about a year ago, conversing with someone who had never tasted the fairer cheese, of which I am partial. To me, a person who had never had the ‘cheese was inconceivable. What a horrible plebian existence! where do these people come from? Caves? Space? Canada?

So today SORM IM’s me, saying, “this cottage cheese junx isn’t so bad.” Then i remembered it -! SORM was the uncultured cottage cheese virgin! You can imagine the excitement as I learned that SORM had come into full blown cottage cheesehood. Yesterday he was but a boy, and today he is a man.

I’ll spare you SORM’s thoroughly disgusting analogy about the loss of his ‘cheese virginity (let’s just say it involves a “cottage cheese cherry”), but I will tell you that SORM is definetly a fan.

Cottage cheeses of the world, look out! There’s a wild SORM on the loose, and he won’t rest till he’s had a peice from every curd on the continent.

This one is dedicated to: SORM and his throbbing member.

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January 27, 2002

Sweet Dreams are Made of These

I had the most beautiful dream last night. I dreamed that I took some sort of travelling singing class, which required me to spend lots of time careering around construction sites on a yellow school bus. On the bus, I had the good fortune of sitting of sitting next to the heavenly ashley angel. That’s my blonde boy from O-town.

all for love baby,
{ashely} what I do, I do it for you
all for love baby
baby, my love, it’s all for you
- O-town, all for love

Anyway, this dream was not sexual (matt), just v. nice to be squished in a bitty bus seat with a singing angel.

So my friend Enola emailed today. She told me everytime she sees o-town on MTV she thinks of me, and she thinks of a rap she made up for me. I was forcing her to watch the “o-town, live from New York DVD” over the break. She found the cover of P. Diddy’s “all about the Benjamins” hilarious. She couldn’t stop laughing at the boys rappin’ in their thug-life style. So she improvised her own rap, which went something like this: “I want a real girl, that’s what I want. I want a real girl, … with a real crotch.” Confucious say, lady who talks without thinking say strange things.

That reminded me of the this time. Nolie and I were attending this Japanese class at the community center. There was an old man in our group, Jack. We called eachother with the honorific “san”. So, Jack was Jacksan (jacks – on). Well, one day in church, Nolie was giggling about something Jack had said. From nowhere she goes “his name is like in the karate kid … Jacksan, jacksoff” as she did the little wax on wax off hand thing. She actually repeated Jacksan , jacks off several times before the woman behind us gasped and gave us a look of disapproval. What church lady mistook as a discussion on masturbation was actually good clean fun!

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January 23, 2002

where’s the beef?

Wow, did I pick a winner when I decided to study at VT! Apparently, in addition to being on of the 15 most wired campus’s in the country, we also have the unique distinction of ranking 7th in meat production This is kind of disgusting. Now, i’m no veggiehead, don’t misunderstand me. There’s nothing I like better than some flank steak, but meat being produced en masse is kind of nasty. Every spring the meat department, or whatever they’re called, holds a big, meaty barbeque in a quad. This barbeque always strikes me as horribly un-pc. When was eating red meat last considered okay? Back in the good old days, I suppose. You know, before the Brady Bunch was on Nick at Night, and when June Cleaver and her pearl neclace served huge, steaming pieces of meatloaf to her perfect children? In any event, it’s always amusing to watch the local peta population assault the meat department’s flesh circus, with their hairy armpits and animal rights slogans.

Also, apparently we have the best wood science department in the U.S. Maybe I’m perverted, but i’m reading that Tech’s got meat, and Tech’s got wood, and well I can’t help but giggle.

I just keep thinking of euphamisms for masturbation and erections. For example, you can beat the meat, slap the salami, choke the chicken, or play the meat flute. And wood: you can polish it, sport it, sprout it, pop it, or buff it. You can have morning wood, or even afternoon wood, i suppose.

Of course, i’m not an expert on any of these things – i just don’t have the equipment. Oh man, I can see the after effects of this one. Now all my guy friends are going to feel all uncomfortable around me, because i discussed “wood.” Then they’ll accuse me of being a feminazi, who’s just jealous of the male mechanics. Then i’ll be tarred and feathered in a public square, by billions of sensitive men who want women to leave their erections alone.

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January 15, 2002

ASS SEX and trendy handbags

About two years ago, I attended a 4th of july picnic at my friend alaskanlaura’s house. Trying to keep in the spirit of the holiday, I pulled on a red t shirt with the greek letters for ASS (my pretend sorority) on the chest. I thought it was v. cute, because the letters are cut from a fabric with little white stars on it. Well, as soon as I got there, this girl, who i will call AA for Angry Annie, approached me, eyes wide and staring at my shirt. She went off on a ten minute rant about how great it was that i was in a sorority. She confided that she was president of her sorority. I had met her before, but this was the nicest she had ever been to me, so I let her think I was in a “real” sorority. I got bored of her crap-talk about sisterhood eventually, and that’s when i made the mistake of telling her I was actually in a “made up” sorority. ASS actually stood for “the anti sorority sorority.” And then, further throwing salt in her poor sorority girl wounds, I laughed when I told her our brother fraternity was called SEX. “ASS SEX? Get it?” I laughed. She got it, but she didn’t like it.

I saw AA at a couple functions after that, but she always very cold to me, which only confirmed the stereotype of sorority princess as ice bitch. – Hmm, this is v. appropriate, because she is president of an Alaskan sorority. Alaska = icy, get it? – Anyway, over christmas break i had the pleasure of accompanying a group of friends, and AA, for lunch. While there I became v jealous of her kate spade bag . She said she had been given one for a birthday or something, but that now she was really enamored by them, and had started purchasing them on ebay. Oh man, i felt bad. I was jealous of AA. I was, for a brief time, I envied AA. So pathetic.

Well, when I got back to school I noticed that a friend, (who i will remain unnamed), had a red Kate Spade bag. I was V. jealous. She told me she had a polkadot one at home too. I asked how much she paid. Grudgingly, friend informed me that she had paid $25 for the clever knockoff from some street bum in Georgetown. Of course, she doesn’t tell people it’s not a real Kate Spade, and honestly, the labelling and everything is exactly the same as the $300 bag. The real bag.

And then it all became clear to me. I didn’t have to be jealous of AA and her fake Kate bags. Instead, I had to laugh. Undoubtedly AA is paying $100 a piece for $25 imitation bags! Ha!

And the world was good again.

I feel so alive
for the very first time
I can’t deny you
I feel so alive
alive – pod

life ranking on the jealous of AA-o- meter: 0%! (no jealousy here kids)

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December 4, 2001

she’s mine, for better or for worse

i was all pumped to write a riveting entry about dog show life, when I got distracted. Smug Ellie gave me the coolest present. It’s a little silver neclace with our ASS sorority logo on it. It really is so nice, and this year I’ve been completely spoiled. I think this may be the best birthday year yet! Hurrah!

I talk about smug ellie a lot, but only in snippets. I’ll give a brief history. Smug Ellie was my roommate freshman year, and I didn’t know what to expect. She was pretty great from the beginning, inviting me to hang out with her friends, etc. Then one day, I walked in and she was wearing a pair of victoria’s secret panties on her head, having a conversation with a group of friends who also had victoria’s secret panties on their heads. I didn’t know what to do, so i just left.

Well shortly thereafter, she told me she had a song for me and began serending me to At A Medium Pace by Adam Sandler. It’s v. dirty so I won’t quote completely, but let me tell you a key phrase is “Sit on the corner of the bed and watch me wack off” Then she began singing I touch myself, which is not much cleaner. So here was my darling new roommate singing that when she thought about me she touched herself. That’s when I knew we’d be friends forever.

So she has this ex boyfriend – the pink berry. We don’t like him. He is obsessed with his mother, and i beleive, is secretly a homosexual. Not that there’s anything wrong with homosexuality, – as i have often said, after considering a life spent enslaved to the heterosexual males ego – if given the choice between fruit and nuts, why not take the fruit?

Anyway, pink berry who is kicking himself for letting the smug one get away, sent darling ell an email today. (we are happy he is gone. The 10cent sparkler highly endorses prince will of tacobell fame. Noone makes a burrito like prince will – who’s coworkers call him “liam”, and don’t know he is using an alias for work. V. funny really) Here’s what we had to say about dingle berry, i mean pink berry:

ebelle44: speaking of exes…pink berry wrote me an email
hannibehr: oh shitay!
hannibehr: what did he say? would really like to know about it.
ebelle44: he said happy b-day *Smug ell and I celebrate our birthdays together
hannibehr: man whore
ebelle44: it was pretty short
hannibehr: anythinggood?
ebelle44: i wrote him back…said i’m going to school nad stuff
hannibehr: did you say “nad”?
ebelle44: made me sound really cute and nice so he’ll still want me and never get over me
hannibehr: girls are so cruel
ebelle44: haha…no, no NAD…
ebelle44: aren’t we!;-)
hannibehr: i’m going to post part of our convo in my blog
ebelle44: don’t use his name though
ebelle44: he might read it
ebelle44: he’s not blocked from your list
hannibehr: he’s not ?
hannibehr: are you sure?
ebelle44: i don’t know…did you block him?

Happy Birthdays: To Smug Ellie who is 21 just like last year, and the year before… and to Anne Switzer, I remember when she was 17 and now she’s 20! Time to stock up on depends or something. i’m getting old!

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November 6, 2001

this one’s got breasts boys

Look at me, spending time blogging when i have fifty thousand papers to write. I tell you, the sacrafices one makes for an adoring public – they are numerous.

I am becoming increasingly facinated with this girl in my english class. She’s about 5′3″ and has no waist! Additionally, her hair color changes bi weekly, with the shades of coppery orange getting ever more intense with each new dyeing. But worst of all, she has a penchant for flashy spandex tops. There is nothing wrong with flashy spandex,… that is, if you are a sorority girl or hooker. In any event, coppertop, mistaking spandex as an uplift device, refuses to wear a bra and has the saggiest old woman boobs I have ever seen – Well, this is not entirely true. I saw something similar when my 84 year-old grandmother walked out of the shower with the towel wrapped exclusively around her waist. But despite the weird boobage, or maybe because of it, i really like little orphan annie. She is always smiling, and it’s always good to get a shock when she comes in wearing fuschia and yellow baby t’s – keeps me alert for the boring lecture.

Also, i just wanted to say, I have now reached total nerdhood. Prompted by a link on the Dawson’s Creek website, I signed up to have “my favorite Dawson’s Creek Character send me personal emails”. I chose Jen , and today *hurrah* I got my first e. It is as follows: “Hey! Well, after a really hard week of crying my eyes out… I’m back in Boston, alternatively exploring school and new relationships… and all the while worrying about how our friend back home in Capeside is faring. I figure the last thing he wants is people asking him that very question every 20 minutes, so I’ve refrained… I just hope he knows we’ll all be there if and as much as he needs us.
In the mean time, things are going dangerously well with Charlie… I don’t want to trust him too much because in my experience, completely trusting anyone you’re in a relationship with is a recipe for disaster. I’m keeping my fingers crossed…

Anyway, how are you doing?

Love
Jen

Jen loves me!

Life ranking on the nerd – o – meter: 80% and rising fast

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October 28, 2001

7 inch pumps, and the day i became a stripper

As I get closer to graduation, the reality that i must enter the work force looms heavy. In contemplating these matters, I’ve found that talking with people about their fields can provide a wealth of valuable information. For example, I decided the seafood industry was out after spending three months with j. schmerin, a floppy-haired fellow who cursed the day he ever walked into the remote salmon egg processing plant that would become his smelly home away from wifey, mcdonalds, and anything else good in his life.

I’ve found only two people who loved their careers. One, a corporate lawyer, has great life making lots of money and trips to california. The other, has spent the happiest 6 years of his young life slinging fast food at taco bell.

recently, someone new came into my life. I will call her “lisa”, which is her dancing name. It’s not important how I know lisa. What is important is that lisa has opened my eyes to a new and lucrative career option: strip club dancing (in case lawyerdom or taco bell don’t work out). I first met lisa at her apartment, where she cooked an excellent dinner of chicken courdon bleu with all the fixins. i instantly liked lisa, because she made the best asparagus i had ever eaten. lisa struck me as a little shy, but she was very cute and bubbly. lisa asked how much i weighed, which is normally very taboo, but lisa is an exoctic dancer, and talk about weight, height and bust size is considered small talk in her circle. i was pleased when lisa underestimated my weight by ten pounds, which made me like her even more.

Carla the stripper
Straight from L.A.
You look good for a naked Chick in a booth
Let’s be pals someday
Stranger, Presidents of the United States of America

later that night lisa brought out her favorite dancing outfit. the long dress had a flag print. the shoes were fabulous. they had silver glitter straps and seven inch heels – of course, i had never seen anything like it. lisa put on her shoes and danced across the living room in a stripper fashion. it was kind of exciting for me, because this was the closest i had ever been to strip club life. Anyway, long story short, Lisa made me put on her shoes and sashay around the living room. I was a clumsy mess, but I’m sure lisa thought i had potential, as she kept asking me if i wanted to borrow her outfits, etc.