Friday, May 15, 2009

For the Love of Zombie Rotten McDonald

Deir Peeples,
Helllllo!! Mah name is Zoe, and I am the Zombie that lives on Von's desk. Heir is a pitcure of me:
Nombrainznom...
Cuse me, got distracted.
I want to tel you that I lovz some tings a lot. I lovz:
KO - she maide me in her houze frum some yarn. I will NOT eat her brainz.
Von - she letss me liv on her desk and givs me friends and ztuff. I will prolly NOT eat her brainz eiver.
MOST OF ALLLLL I LOVZ OTHER ZOMBIES!!!
FOr essample:
I lovz the muvie "Night of the Living Dead". That Gore Romero got us down pat!
I also lovz the book "World War Z". Ok, Maxs Brooks, I may have to eat your brainz beecase you think you humans wins! Mwwwwahhh......
brainzbrainzbrainzzambrainobrainz
Damm! Sorry got discotracted again!
I wuuld be re-mis if I forgot "The Re-animator". Lovz Stuart Gordon!
Becuzz of Von, I has to like much musik. Of curse, I lovz The Zombies! C'mon "She's not there" and "Time of the Season"?!? I woold be very very hugree before I ate thoze brainz.
Lovz a looot that Rob Zombie. Nut onlee is he a qualitee film macker, he alzo rote a song about me. Yuu may have heared of it? "Living Dead Girl"? Besst song ever!! Pluzz he is drrrrty.
Buut I diegress.
I am really heare to tellz you how much Von and I lovz Zombie Rotten McDonald!http://empireofthesenseless.blogspot.com/ (alzo over der in the blog roll. Ther, stoopid, to your rite)
Von waz veri nervice when she started this bllogg. She thaught no one would readz it but then ZRM waz veri nise and mite have read it sometimez and made nise commentz that made her feelz much better. He didn't even knoe her at all then!
Then, thiz one time when Von waz saad about her dog, ZRM sent her some musik CDs and then she was not sad animore. Just out of the bloo! Like a nize persen would do! AND the musik CDs were very very good!
ZRM has veri fantastix tastes in musik!! Like no one elze!!
ZRM rites very good blogg postz that are funny and make sense and are good to read. They make me a smarterz zombie.
ZRM is nice and a frequent commentater over heier witch makez Von happi and that is ok with me. They are lik frendz and may even meat somedai!
SO pleeze, if you valuu your brainz, go visit Zombie Rotten McDonald and show him some lovz.
OTHERWIZE I WILL EAT YOUR BRAINZ!~!~!
brainznomnombrainznom.
Okey, got to go eat something ***brainz****
Thaankkk you for your tym.
Luvz,
ZoeZombie
We Love Zombie Rotten McDonald

Monday, May 11, 2009

A Starbucks Tale

Here is the full story about my run-in with Awesomeness over the weekend. If you are one of the people I called and screeched this at Saturday morning, sorry for the re-run. So, Saturday morning after my quack....I mean chiropractor appointment I went next door to the Starbucks. Since I was just running to the doc I hadn't really bothered getting all dolled up. I was wearing yoga pants and a t-shirt that says "Wicked Pissah" that I picked up in Boston last fall. The line for the coffee was looonnng. There seemed to be some sort of back up with the baristas. So, what did I do? OF course, I looked around for the hot guys. Oh, and there was one HOT guy. He was standing one person over from me. About 6'3", ripped, and h o t. Dude was looking around a little, but more or less kept his head down. So, I'm checking him out and I get the notion he looks familiar. 'Do I know him somehow?' I think. Hm. For some reason I looked at his shoes (I never do this, don't ask me why I did). He was wearing Yves Saint Laurent suede loafers. 'Ok, expensive shoes. Maybe I don't know him, but I know him, like he's famous or something.' Right around this time, the barista says "Did you order 2 lattes Z?" yet he kinda dropped off the "Z", so if you weren't standing right there, you weren't sure if you heard it. Hot guy says "Yes." Hot guy then looks at me and says "I like your tshirt" I say "Thanks!" waaaaay more brightly and quite a bit more high-pitched than my usual sultry vocals. "Here you go Z." That time, we ALL heard the Z. Hot guy picks up his coffees and walks out the door. Not a minute later, 2 or 3 guys blurt out "Holy SHit! That was Carlos Zambrano!" We all tear over to the windows - I think we all wanted to see what Big Z was driving. He wasn't driving, he walked away. Starbucks was immediately abuzz with our mutual brush with greatness. And me? Oh, yeah, I'm the gal he talked to. Me. All because of my silly tshirt. Sigh. I get my latte, and go skipping back to my car - still elated, still giddy. I walk past some couple and the guy says "Wicked Pissah, funny!" I ignore him, I mean, he's no Zambrano! I call my mother. Well, not true, I called my dad as he knows who Zambrano is, but VonMom answered the phone. After I get done telling her the story, she says "But Von, you were wearing a tshirt. How are you going to get him to marry you wearing that?" She missed the point I think. I'm still giddy. I think the coolest part was that no one bothered him, no one approached him. He was able to just go grab some coffee and be on his way. That's my brush with greatness, it made a great start to my weekend.

Friday, May 8, 2009

Your thoughts?

I've got a hankerin' to do a small, wee, one might even call it tiny stripe of fun color in my hair this summer. I'm thinking purple (fav) or blue (might be pretty). I'm thinking I'd like to do a small hardly noticeable horizontal stipe from ear to ear at the underside of my hair. So, a whole lot more understated than a vertical stripe or two or ten. SO. The problem is ChicagoBoss. Though I can find no where in our handbook where such an idea is taboo, CB strongly (and a little sternly) frowns upon this idea. This idea is gnawing at me like a rabid racoon and will not cease and desist. It's been about 6 months now. I've presented the arguement that one thing I have a lot of is hair, and I can pin up the aforementioned colorful stripe at a moment's notice should we have important visitors, or if I need to run an errand to a client, etc. CB is, well, highly doubtful. I would love to have some ideas as to how to convince CB and the rest of my boss-people that this is a good idea. Or if not a good idea, something they will let me do. Because they love me? Or maybe because they are fully behind backing my whim, as it will have zero effect on my performance and productivity. I lay it at your feet, my interfriends. Advise me please.

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

Well, yes and no

Yes, I know that I have a sneer semi-permanently attached to my face today. What of it? No, you do not smell liquor coming out of my pores. Yes, I showered at 12:30 am. Drunken showering is a new favorite past time. No, I didn't win. Yes, I had to do a shot. I was done in by the very drinking game I invented! **At 55 minutes past every hour, the person with the highest $$ in poker chips and the person with the lowest $$ in poker chips must do a shot of tequila. Viva Cinco de Mayo! I had the highest chips at 9:55. No, I do NOT think I am still in my 20s. Yes, everyone at the poker party is very attractive. No, I did not forget that I have a very long day today, including Deutsche klasse. Yes, I do think I may fall asleep on my desk at some point today. No, you may not write on my face with permanent marker when I do. Yes, I did stop at Daily on my way home. Because it's my Cheers and all. No, I did not imbibe at Daily. Yes, we did hum or sing snippets of "Poker Face" most of the night. No, the people I play poker with do not think Lady Gaga is attractive. Yes, I do think all of the above was a good idea for a Tuesday. Nope, you may not join me next week.

Sunday, May 3, 2009

I wish

I wish every day was Sunday. I wish iTunes would give me back the songs that I lost. I wish dieting were easy. Easy as pie. Easy as cake. Mmmmm Cake. I wish I could go see a musical every week. I wish I had won MegaMillions. I wish I had a dog. I wish my ABC free episode player would work. I wish VonSis would take me to Frank's Diner in Kenosha, as Guy Fierri(sp) said I should go there. I wish no woman on God's green Earth would wear sandals or flip-flops before they got a pedicure. For pete's sake, ladies. Please. I wish people used only words they understand. For example, Disrespectful is NOT a synonym for Ignorant. I wish the man of my dreams would just come to my door and sweep me off my feet already. I wish someone would make me some chocolate chip cookies, and that I could eat them without shaking up my diet. I wish my hair were about 3-4 inches longer. I wish my dishes would wash themselves. No, I do not have a dishwasher. I wish I were a little bit cooler. I wish I had a fun streak of blue or purple in my hair. (Boss thinks this is a bad idea.) I wish my friends who are out of work would find jobs. I wish my friends who are sick will become well, and stay that way. I wish that the tourists I have to encounter on a regular basis would start paying attention to where they are going, and stop being so stupid. I wish every work week was four days long. I wish to have my job f o r e v e r. I wish I were going on a vacation sooner rather than later. (July? Really? That's a ways off) I wish something awesomely funny would happen, so I can share it here. I wish they would cancel The Hills. I mean, without LC, is there any show? Nay, nay I say. I wish all reality t.v. would go away. Ok, The Amazing Race, Diners DriveIns and Dives, and Man vs Food can stay. Get rid of the rest. I wish there was an unending bottle of wine in my kitchen at all times. I wish you all a great week.

Monday, April 27, 2009

Configure this

Dear Laptop: Ok, you kinda suck. I gave you time to recover from your ordeal. Lots and lots of time. Just last week, you had two nights that I left you on so you could download the 62 Windows updates, and then install them. Why oh why did I have to wait an hour yesterday when I turned you on for you to configure updates? Didn't we do this last week? Don't you know I have things to do, and among them, a blog to write? I'm bigger than you. I can totally crush you. Or throw you against the wall. Or jump up and down on you. Stop pissing me off! Love, Von

Thursday, April 23, 2009

Not attending, nope not me

Alas, I have nothing snarky to say about poker night. Well, I did go home $20 lighter, but the people were nice, the beer was tasty, and I had fun. I'll be going back next week, so I'll keep you updated. SO This Saturday night some of my classmates from high school are having an informal reunion of sorts that was formulated and organized on facebook. If you're a regular reader of this blog, the following should come as no surprise. I'm.Not.Going. First, they are meeting at a pizza place. A bad pizza place. "Meet at Dino's. $12 all the pizza and pop you can eat!!" Yep, hi, um, we're on the other side of 30. I think you could have picked, oh I don't know, a BAR?!?!? Secondly, one of the organizers is someone I beat up my senior year. More than once. Ok, more than twice. Even the teachers didn't like her. How do I know? One of the times I beat her up, I had her pinned up against the lockers right outside her homeroom. I was trying to get her to *ahem* see things from my perspective. Anyway, upon one of the slams against the lockers, her homeroom teacher came out to investigate. 'Oh, shit.' I thought. I kinda froze, I knew I was caught and in deep trouble. Mr. X looked at her, looked at me, then back at her, and back at me. He said "Oh, Von - it's you." And he turned around and walked back in the classroom and closed the door. I finished my conversation with her and went on my way. This is a true story! So - M (the chic) has re-written history via facebook. She's friended most of our class, and now she's organizing this fiasco. I thought I was nuts, but the few chics that I still talk to from h.s. agree with me that M is still a pathetic loser, and living in a fantasy world. I did scan through the list of those attending. There's maybe one or two people who I would like to see. But I'm a GrownUp. If I want to see them, I will email them and arrange a get together. I don't need to go eat bad greasy pizza and talk to a bunch of chics I could give two shits about. Poor M. Poor chicas that think this reunion is a good idea. Poor pizza place having to put up witht them. My weekend is all booked up with grown up kewl activities. No time for the lame.