15 comments

April 17, 2006

One Nation, Underpants

Some people like to skulk on Blue Monday. They complain, cry, rant and rave.

I personally like to sit on Blue Monday … mostly because that’s what I have stamped across the ass of my underpants.

And that’s what you do with underpants – sit on ‘em.

…Except of course, if your name is Smug Ellie and you’re my college roommate. In that case you’re fond of wearing your knickers on your head like some sort of dormroom do-rag with controltop coverage and an elastic waistband.

On multiple occasions you’ll also force your roommate, Hänni, to wear the Headdress o’ Shame Hanes as well.

Sad thing is, Smug, I totally miss that.
—–
It’s not just another manic Monday here at the haus. Tonight we kick off our second drink in the AI Cocktail Countdown. Go vote!

26 comments

April 12, 2006

Games Are Lame

Hi, my name is Hänni.

I am irreconcilably bitchy.

I don’t know if it’s because I’m listening to a lot of screamo lately, or if the sugar-free/wheat-free/dairy-free lifestyle is going to my head, but damn!  The littlest shit is setting me off.

Today the cornucopia of my wrath is teaming with the yams and maize of my repulsion towards online gaming.

If you’re hardxcore into Internet role playing, you probably won’t like what I have to say ….And you’re probably 36, living at home, wondering what a real booby feels like.

For the record, I hear they feel like jello.  In my case they just feel like small.

But anyway, the dudes at my work are obsessed with this war-themed computer game.  They talk about it all.day.long.  I don’t think my cubiclemates can go one mother-lovin’ afternoon without saying something about snipers or maps or killing virtual villains.

This is disturbing.

Especially when you hear a grown man shout, “You shot my privates!” from the confines of his cubicle.

…Perhaps the only thing more disturbing than this geekspeak is my coworker Buddy’s frequent shouts of “fire in the hole!” More jarring than this announcement is the blast of stench that proceeds it … but that’s a different story for a different day.

But anyway, yeah.  I can’t stand games.  And every day, as work is winding down, a gaggle of geeks starts playing them.  And it’s not like they’re discreet about it. No, they gotta have their speakers on full-effing-blast so as to flood my space with the annoying sounds of digital gun fire.

And then there’s the swearing.  Something happens when otherwise decent men flip the switch on this role playing shit.  Everything out of their mouth is “eff this, eff that, eff YOU!”

It’s excessive.  And I worry that they’re using up the world’s supply of “eff.”  I’d hate to be the one to tell the Osbournes “No more ‘eff’ for you.  These geeks in a cube farm in Florida have used it all up.”

And my co-workers just don’t understand why I won’t join the gaming nerdherd.  “It’s so much fun,” they say.

Yeah.  I bet.   I’m sure it’s just as fun as that time in junior high when my best friend told our lunch table I had chronic halitosis.  Everybody laughed at me.  And then I developed a complex.

Games are for nerds.
—–
AI Cocktail Countdown update: The Internet has spoken.  Carmel Coke is out.  If that was your favorite, too bad.  Keep voting.  We’ll knock one more off next Monday.

10 comments

April 10, 2006

The Popular Vote

I read in the news this morning that American Idol contestant, Mandisa will not be performing at a pro-gay event. The unquestionably Christian singer speculates these kind of beliefs are what got her kicked of the show last week.

I disagree.

Having seen her last performance, I think it’s perfectly obvious why she lost the votes.

America is superficial. And Mandisa – for some inexplicable reason – was styled most unflatteringly, like a helium balloon.

mandisa.jpg

And it’s a shame. A big, beautiful woman with one helluva talent, I would’ve picked Mandisa to win American Idol by a backside.

Because you know baby got back(side).

Heh.

But yeah, I’m kind of having a hard time coming to grips with this loss. You see, hot air is the reason American voted Mandisa off, but when Gdub employed it, he got voted in. WTF?!
—–
Don’t let a Mandisa happen here at the haus! I want you… to get me trashed. Pick your poison every day in the AI Cocktail Countdown. First drink gets kicked off tonight!

15 comments

April 5, 2006

I’ll Drink To That: American Idol Cocktail Countdown

Wanna get me wasted? Here’s your chance!

Here at the haus, we love us some American Idol. Sometimes the performances really touch us and we’re driven to laugh, cry, smirk or smile. Most often though – after enduring 60 minutes Paula’s bad hair and the contestants’ bad vocals – I just wanna drink.

And here’s where I need your help.

On the night of the finale I’m going to attend an American Idol party. At said shindig I will be toasting with a tasty beverage of your choosing.

That’s right. I said you’ll be getting me (and about 10 of my foolish fabulous friends) trashed.

Here’s how it works: Starting today, for the next 8 weeks I’ll have a poll posted here at the haus. Each week, you vote for your favorite drink. The drink with the least votes gets kicked out. At the end of 8 weeks, the last beverage standing will be the big wiener. And it will also be responsible for making me, inevitably, freak dance with strangers.

Details: Each round of voting starts when new polls are posted at 9am EST each Tuesday. Look for the poll in my sidebar (over there —->)

**You can vote once every day, so come back damn it!**

Pick my poison: Drink details are listed alphabetically below. The thing they have in common? They all contain coca-cola. We figure if American Idol can whore some coke, so can we. We’re easy like that.

  • Blonde’s Death: Rum, red wine, coke, ice | Voted off on 4.24

  • Carmel Coke : Butterscotch schnapps, coke, ice | Voted off on 4.10

  • Christophe’s French 75: Sparkling white wine, cognac, lemon, coke | Voted off on 4.17

  • Coconut Coke: Coconut rum, coke, ice | Voted off on 5.15

  • Coked out Bee: Honey liqueur, coke | Voted off on 5.8

  • Jack-Off: Jack Daniels, coke, iced tea, ice | Voted off on 5.22

  • WINNER—–>Stephanie’s Coke Lobster: Crown Royal, chambord, cranberry juice, coke

  • Vodka Swish : Vodka, soda water, coke, lime | Voted off on 4.17

Your lovely parting gift: Should you help get me trashed, you *will not* be allowed to put your hands down my pants. You *will*, however, get the distinct pleasure of saying “I did that!” while laughing your tush off at the trainwreck that will be my post-party pics.

You can also, should you be so foolish fabulous, choose to slam a few of the winning bevvies back with me, on the day of the finale.

Oh, and if you really wanna, you could post this on your blog (huzzah!):

cocktailcountdown.jpg

(Click here for the code).

Now that you know the basics, go get your vote on!

—-
FYI – if you tried to get the banner before 2PM EST on 4.6.06, it probably didn’t work. Banner is now fixed. Try again please.

16 comments

April 4, 2006

If I Had A Million Dollars

People always ask me, “Hänni, if you had a million dollars, how would you spend it?”

That’s easy.  I’d buy a big house, a hybrid car, and this t-shirt .

Some people, however, would blow the million bucks on strippers and coke.

I don’t get that.

Mostly because soda is so bad for you.

…But I digress.

—–
What you do with a million dollars, dear hannihaus readers?

*Thanks mrtl, for the theme.

13 comments

April 2, 2006

Of Tights And Men

Now that I live in Florida, I rarely wear hosiery.  Instead I slather bronzer on my cankles and call it good.  Because it’s always so effing hot here, most people do likewise.

Imagine my surprise then, when I walked into a party and the vast majority of attendees were wearing tights… and they were men.

Yesterday Angelface and I attended our first ever renaissance-themed wedding.  Although we were encouraged to, Angel and I did *not* dress the part.  Angel wore a suit and I wore Cheetah Chic, the Sexiest Little Cocktail Dress…EVER.

When you’re wearing the Sexiest Little Cocktail Dress…EVER, you need fantastic hair to match.  I told Angel I was going to try a faux hawk.  When questioned as to what a faux hawk was, I explained it’s like a mohawk in the front with a ponytail in the back.  Angel, eyebrows raised, said, “Alright baby, but if you faux hawk it up, you won’t have time to fix it.”

Heh.  He said “faux hawk it up.”

The only thing funnier than the fact that I am (apparently) married to a comedian, was a sign I saw during the two-hour drive to the wedding site.  Forced to travel country roads, I laughed at a backwoods billboard that said Pray for teachers, in Jesus’ name.  I’m not sure why they needed to specify the Jesus thing, except it would be real bad if someone prayed in the name of Paris Hilton and instead of eternal salvation they got herpes.

But anyway, the wedding was lovely.  The bride arrived in a horse drawn carriage and her 14 attendants were all beautiful.  The reception was great too.  At some point, my inhibitions lowered by much merry making (re: alcohol), I decided that this would be an attractive pose:

smooch.jpg

And I also thought it acceptable, nay crucial, that I freak dance with some random chick dressed like She-Ra.  Boy am I glad someone thought to capture that moment.

she_ra.jpg

After the wedding, the trip home went really fast.  Mostly because I was passed out drunk in the passenger seat for two hours.  Angel told me later I woke up once when he asked me for toll money.  Apparently I yelled at him and threw my purse.  It’s good to know, even when I’m inebriated, I still act like my usual self.

And with that, this recap is done.  I’m off to sleep and drink fluids.

Til next, dear hannihaus readers, adieu.

9 comments

March 31, 2006

Sicko

It's fun to confuse someone who has a head cold. You see, their brains just don't work right, being that they're filled with snot and such.

Angelface, sniffling, looked at our adopted kitty and asked, "Where did Bella come from?"

Matter-of-factly I replied, "Her mom."

Angelface, attempting to clarify said, "That's not what I mean. We know that Sphynxy was born on the streets, so I just wonder where Bella came from before she came to us."

Rolling my eyes, I responded, "Bella came from her mom. You don't think kittens make themselves, do you?"

Angel looking flushed and flustered said, "What I'm trying to say is, before we adopted Bella…"

"Fine," I interrupted. "That's just Fine! If you don't want to talk about the miracle of life, then we'll just say it was the stork. Bella came from the freaking stork okay?! Geez!"

"Oh and by the way," I added, "Santa is real, there's a boogie monster living in our closet, and Mariah Carey is *not* endangering the world's snack cake supply."

Speechless, Angel blinked twice and walked away. His robe clutched tight to his congested chest, my befuddled better half went back to bed.

Poor thing.

Angel may have the head cold, but I suspect I'm the one who's really sick.

18 comments

March 29, 2006

Pregnant Pause

I’m not sure how to tell you this…

The indicator on the display is red.

And I’m sitting here biting my nails. My forehead is covered in a cold sweat.

My life is about to change in a very big way, and I’m not sure I’m ready for it.

I keep telling myself, whether good or bad, everything happens for a reason. Still, I can’t shake this feeling:

Nothing good will come of this.

And I know I shouldn’t panic –this is just life. I set into motion a series of events, and now, inevitably, I must face the consequences.

My brave sisters who have gone before me, I’m looking to you for support.

You see, yesterday, in the mail, I got this. (< — go on, click it.)

Now I’ve got the DVD player cued, its red light flashing as it prepares to run.

And omg …

I’m actually considering watching this junx.

Someone please alert the media because HELL HAS OFFICIALLY FROZEN OVER.

—–

Dima , though your gift greatly disturbs me, thank you *squeeze*.

14 comments

March 27, 2006

Chronic-wha-cles of California

Who had a gay old time in San Francisco this weekend?

I did! I did!

My second time to the city filled with boys who like boys, San Fran did not disappoint. From the charm of Chinatown, to the beauty of the Bay, to screaming down steep hills on the Powell Street trolley, San Francisco is, quite simply, the bees knees.

lombard_street.jpgOne thing San Francisco is famous for is Lombard Street. As we wound our way down the cobblestones, past cheery Victorian homes, I heard Angelface say that Lombard is the most crooked street of the world. I think he might be wrong about that –after all, George Bush doesn’t even live in California… but I digress.

Another popular place in San Francisco is the Fisherman’s Wharf. The historic waterfront is home to great seafood, gorgeous views, cheap shopping, and of course, The World Famous Bushman. A street performer, people call the dude The World Famous Bushman because he makes bank scaring the bejesus out of folks, by leaping out from behind bushes. People also probably call him The World Famous Bushman because that’s what he has written in permanent marker on the front of his tip jar.world_famous_bushman.jpg

And that makes me think… I’ve got a sharpie and some Tupperware. Maybe I should set up shop on a street corner too. I could call myself The Incredible BitchAss. Maybe people would toss some shit in my tip jar, and maybe they’d toss some dollar bills in there too.

But anyway, obvious targets in our tourist uniform of discount jackets with SF emblazoned across the chest, the ‘Bushman scared us pretty bad. My sister-in-law who is an ER nurse said “That’d be real funny if he scared someone and they ended up having a heart attack.” I said I agreed, but actually I think that wouldn’t be funny at all. Everyone knows that heart attacks just don’t get the laughs like scaring someone into having herpes does.

pier_39.jpgOne thing about vacationing in California is, you never know when you’re going to see a celebrity. I was pretty sure I saw Mariah Carey down at Pier 39. But actually it was just a fat-ass sea lion – one of about 50 sunning themselves on the docks – which had his flipper raised high, like he was reaching for heaven…or ho hos.

Down at the pier there a ton of cute little shops where you can buy all kinds of crap. Since Angel’s maaa wanted to get a cable car ornament, we stopped somewhere. When we got to the register, Angel kept asking if the ornament qualified as a “model.” I couldn’t figure out why he was repeatedly asking this dumb question, but then I read the sign where his eyes were transfixed: “Buy a model, pull the cord.”

The cord, mounted above the register, was attached to a trolley bell. Even though the ornament didn’t technically qualify, the clerk let Angel pull cord. This is probably because Angel is 25, and most times when someone nearly pees themselves over the pulley, they are 10.

the_rock.jpg

In concluding this travelogue, I would just like to leave you with this thought: Alcatraz: it’s known as “The Rock,” but yet, when I had a look around, I found no evidence of screaming guitars, too-tight hot pants, or boys who wear makeup.

Perhaps we should call it “The Soft Rock” or “The Smooth Jazz” instead.

Discuss.

Til next, dear hannihaus readers, adieu.
—–
Update B/c you asked for it, here they are: click for my San Fran pics.  If you’re bored, Angel’s got some too.

12 comments

March 24, 2006

Remedial Math

Angelface is out in California, visiting his mom and sister. Tomorrow after work I’m going to fly out and join them.

I talked to Angel this evening about my travel arrangements. He said my flight would last from 7pm until 1am.

“Holy cow!” I said. “That’s only 4 hours, coast to coast. I can’t believe it!”

Angel couldn’t believe it either –

Mostly because even kids who flunk remedial math know that 7pm to 1am = 6 hours.

But I digress (because my math skills do not impress).

Til next, dear hannihaus readers, adieu.  I’m off the land of fruit and nuts.

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