Monday, May 30

I'm proud of you, Storm Trooper

Holy crap balls, I'm alive!

I've been such a major suck on my blog of late, and yet I've been quite productive in the real worlds. I have even only been checking my facebook every 2 days or so *GASP!*

The job has been keeping me busy, and am trying to gather up some material for some tales from the work place. Mostly I'm still learning the ropes and learning the hierarchy of the restaurant biz. You know, some servers think they are so much better than we, the mere host staff, and even higher than the lowly bussers. Which I think is total bullshit. On a high note, my manager said this to me the other day, "We're working on getting you started serving, so just be patient. But I think you'd make a much better manager" To which I said, I would definitely be down with that. But anywhoodle.

My BFF came to visit me from Arizona for 2 1/2 weeks and I was literally sober for 2 whole days. TWO WHOLE DAYS in the last 17 days. I'm in a MAJOR detox right now. Well, today was actually the "hangover" period, in which I ate everything in the house for most of the day. I feel like I'm going to explode. I also napped for 4 hours. So tomorrow will begin the health cleanse. My liver will thank me for it.

Oh-- and we took pictures
the beach! still sober here..


"hurry up beer man"
"nipple"
let's just call this one "Oakshire Brewing Sample Night"
Ankle failure. Twice. Yes, we're drinking in a dugout. At 1 am.
"Portlandia"
Wenatchee
He wanted to call this one "Gaga" because 'Judas' came on for the millionth time.

Oh yeah, and his shirt says "You discussed me"
Bought at the Portland Saturday Market. Funniest shit ever.

The pitcher actually had "PBR Only" written on it.
Why? Cause it taints everything it touches.
Lots of ridiculousness occurred.

'Judas' was in our heads constantly for the first week. I loves me some Gaga, but sweet Jesus, you can only sing it so many times. That and Adele's Rolling in the Deep.

Somehow we ended up watching a Real Housewives of New York City and became strangely addicted. What a SHITSHOW! Oh that Ramona... I want to kill her. And her Pinot Grigio!!! But I digress...

I also nearly broke my ankle again. Remember when I wrenched it during the Rise Against concert? Well basically it happened again. TWICE.We had spent most of the evening out drinking (surprise, surprise). The sky was perfectly clear and my friend wanted to "go look at the moon". So we picked up a six-er of tall cans of Miller Lite and headed to the park. For some reason the ball park lights were all on, at 1 am. So I proceeded to prance around the bases while holding my beer. No failure there, and actually you'd think that would have been the most likely place for ankle failure. Oh no.

We're sitting in the duggout and realized we needed to TAKE PICTURES!! So I ran off to the car to get the camera. Wait, no I froliced off. Sort of a skipping-jogging-frolicking action. The duggout is dirt, then transitions to sand, which then transitions to the grass throughout the rest of the park. Well, once I hit the sand... BAM! I ate shit. I laughed and laughed and rolled around grabbing my ankle. Biffing it is pretty funny, especially when you're wasted. But I was fine, so I made it to the car, and then headed back.

LITERALLY... in the exact same spot I ate shit. AGAIN. AGAIN!!! What the crap!? This time my stuff went flying. Camera. Beer. Keys. Hat. All strewn about. Again I was laughing so hard, but this time the tears came with it. My friends came running over and were trying to help me up asking if I was alright. (this part is hazy for me, so I'm going off what my friends relayed to me afterward) I guess I yelled "NO TALKING!!" because I was laughing so hard and it hurt SO BAD. Then they tried to help me up and I yelled "NO TOUCHING!!" At this point I was on my knees, laughing and laughing and crying and laughing, trying to figure out if I'd broken my ankle and if I could walk on it. Meanwhile my friends stood there histerically laughing at me.

I hobbled back to the duggout and managed to figure out that I didn't actually break it. I'm sure I tore some stuff up in there something fierce though, because two weeks later it still hurts. It was swollen huge for a week, and its more or less back to normal size. But it still hurts, especially in the monring when its stiff, or when I step weird.

We also went to Portland, went to a gay bar and got capital "T" Trashed, went to Powell's the world's largest used book store, to the Saturday Market. Then do the beach, and this last weekend, up to Leavenworth Washington for some awesome rafting action. We nearly froze to death, but that's a story that's really not as funny when retold, however we were crying/laughing in the back of the pickup when it was pouring POURING down rain. I just kept saying "This is a memory of a lifetime!!" I'm such a dork.

So there ya go.

I'm really going to try to update more often, at least once a week. The guilt is killing me. And I miss my bloggy buddies! I'll also admit that I haven't read ANY blogs in as much as two months. But I'm spending my cough time today catching up. I may not comment on everything I love, but I'll try to send some love your way so you know I was actually there catching up!

Peace out my homies! Miss and love you!!

Tuesday, May 3

bad movies make doves cry

Heydie Hydie Hodie! I know I'm MIA a LOT recently. And when I finally post, I'm putting my goodies on someone else's page! LAME! I've done a little movie review ditty for our Horrible Movie Blog Ring. Mine's currently residing over at Ginny is Sassy so go check it out! If you still love me *insert guilt here*

And now......... the lovliest of the lovely, my dear Shelly from Shelly Talks has an amazeballs review for you kiddos to enjoy!

Dearly beloved...Readers of McGriddle Pants. We are gathered here today to review this thing called "Purple Rain."

Did you like that intro? It's a play on the opening credits of Purple Rain (in case you haven't watched this movie). If I could describe this movie in one word it would be "montagetastic." I mean, there's a montage just about every ten minutes, and they are amazing! Best 80s montages one could ever hope for! But let's start at the beginning, shall we?


Purple Rain is the story of a struggling singer known as "The Kid" played by Prince. I'm not sure how old he is supposed to be, he looks about 30, but he lives with his parents. His Dad is abusive towards his mother, but in all honesty, she totally deserves the beating. She can't keep up on housework. What kind of woman is that? Well, one night after his performance, The Kid meets a girl named "Appollonia" played by (ironically enough) Appollonia Kotero. --Which brings me to my next comment, all of the characters, except Prince, have the same name in real life. It actually keeps things easier for me, because I'm one of those people who can't remember characters names anyway. Except I don't know any of these actors. Oh well...ANYWAY!

Appollonia and The Kid have a turbulent relationship, but they have a lot of sex that involves rubbing of crotches and Appollonia's boobs. Maybe he's just like his mother? She was never satisfied... Or maybe he's just like his father?! I DON'T KNOW! But I do know he slaps her, and not sexually. Then one night he sees her performing in lingerie (hey it's the 80's) and he thinks he's in love with her again. Only later to see she's drunk. He tells her not to drink, he doesn't like it. Slaps her again...and then they make sexies outside, right then and there.

In the end, Prince has his shining moment, and the montages of all montages. His whole life flashes before our eyes with his deep, meaningful music. And then he becomes a talented artist with lots of ruffly shirts and assless pants that we all know and love.

I hope this review encourages everyone to go and watch this movie. I give it two ruffle shirts and red thongs up. Please be sure to check out my blog Shelly Talks Too Much and read what The REAL Mandy Moore has to say.


Monday, May 2

just a thought

"I will mourn the loss of thousands of precious lives, but I will not rejoice in the death of one, not even an enemy. Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that." - Martin Luther King Jr.

Just a little something to chew on.