Twin's Tops Too Trampy To Trade

A heavy burden upon me, Twin is a youthful chatter-box with perky and made for jiggle breasts. She's squeaky, energetic and prone to repeatedly shrieking phrases like, “Oh My God!” “I’m mad at you!” and “I’m not annoying! Why do you say I’m annoying?” Just writing about her now has completely drained me, but I’ll soldier on.
I agreed to accompany her to Buffalo Exchange in Hillcrest, only after she successfully annoyed me into submission, so she could sell some clothes that she no longer needed*. The last time I was in Buffalo Exchange was almost eight years ago, when Mik’s fiancée, Angela, was selling designer clothes so we could raise money to eat (We'd just moved to San Diego and times were tough). I didn’t like it because it smelled and was filled with hipsters that smelled (Baby was broke but uppity). Well, eight years later, it still smells and is still filled with hipsters that smell. Anyway, Twin plopped her clothes on the counter and a stone-faced store manager slowly rifled through some items of clothing that could be mistaken for dental floss.

It was a thrilling process of inspection as she looked everything over carefully, often agreeing with me when I’d interject, “Don’t sell that Twin, it’s cute!” Then, she placed everything back in the bag, turned to Twin and stated, matter of factly, “Look, there are some really cute and very expensive things here, but I don’t think I can sell them. Everything is small and cut ABOVE the naval and we have a surplus of tiny tops already sitting on the shelves. If you have anything that falls below the waist, or with sleeves, please bring them in.” I looked at Twin and whispered, “Owned!” To her credit, Twin didn't give up and dragged me and her her trampy tops across the street, to a 2nd hand store called Rags, that was somewhat more receptive to her cut to bounce tops.

That's all.

*She's a mess. She may not have even WORN the clothing! She buys things and they just sit there. Don't people realize we are headed for doom!

And I Thought I Was Aging Well...

According to the web-site here, this is a McDonald's Hamburger that was purchased in 1996. The nutrition consultant that writes the blog states: Note that it looks exactly like it did the very day I bought it. The flecks on the bun are crumbs from the bun. The burger is starting to crumble a bit. It has the oddest smell. Gross!
She goes on to say; The burger on the right, off the paper is a 2008 burger. I had to buy it to get the groovy paper and bag.

If this is true (and I just don't think that anyone who uses the phrase, "groovy paper and bag" is capable of deceit), well then...PRESERVATIVES ALERT!! I want to know what they are putting in that burger so I can spread some all over my face.

Good Day.

I Don't Like to Whine

I don't like to whine. I think its annoying when other people bellyache in my direction, so I keep my troubles close to the vest. If I were one to easily lay my burdens at the doorsteps of others, I could write several, agonizing paragraphs on my current predicament of tackling an oppressive work-load and bothersome clients, with only the worthless, Dumb-Judy (the world's only dumb Asian), to help me. To make matters worse, this blog is suffering because our equally worthless Editor-In-Chief is on the ropes, after getting his ass handed to him by THE MAN at work, and pulling a muscle in his delicate and dainty neck while attempting to play volleyball. Under these unbeatable odds, it’s nothing short of a miracle that I was able to get up even this pitiful post. I'm going home now to run and then have some ice-cream. Please join me tomorrow when I blog about the things I wanted to blog about today. The highlight will surely be the scandalous Local Gossip: Cougar Edition. Yup, one of our regulars lost her sh*t and attempted to pounce on a much, much, much, much, much, much younger man (he’s legal, but you get my drift).

Good Day.

A Toast to the Griswolds....and food

Twin, The Griswolds and Legolas the elf toast to the impending nuptials. There will be two ceremonies, one here in the states (I may skip that) and one in Italy. I hope that one has cannoli at the reception.

Yesterday, while we were running, I asked Mik, "How in the world is Angela so damn sweet? She is just so sweet it often takes me by surprise. You are very annoying and she doesn't even get upset with you!" He answered, "I know. I've never met anyone so sweet in all my life, well, except for maybe you. Except when she drinks…She can be a mean drunk.” I answered, "Well no one's perfect, but she tries!"
Thank goodness for that. Yes kids, The Griswolds are going to make it legal! Mik asked Angela to marry him on the second to last day or their European vacation and she said yes. Although this is Mik's third (or is it fourth?) engagement, it’s the first time that the sight of his betrothed did not make me want to vomit. I wholeheartedly approve of the marriage and look forward to a fun wedding in Italy and grandchildren.

The Griswolds, Twin and Legolas the elf pose after brunch. A sweet gay man asked if I wanted to be in the picture and offered to snap it. I said, "I don't want to be in it, its for my blog but thank you!" Joking, Angela said, "He's too ugly to be in the photo." The sweet little gay man did not know she was joking and promptly cussed her out. He then threatened to pummel her (!!!). He was feisty!

Since a toast would be appropriate here, let’s use these photos taken yesterday, at India Palace, during the champagne brunch. The food was excellent but the cheap bastards that own the place cut us off and brought us our check before we were anywhere NEAR finishing. Admittedly, at this point, Mik had wolfed down a whole Tandoori chicken and we’d polished off a good share of dirt cheap champagne (after I talked the waiter into pouring us some more, he barked, “This is the LAST one!” as our cries of “But we have until 3pm!” went unanswered). It was probably for the best, as our conversation ran the gamut from the mystery tampon that clogged our septic system and sex during mr. monthly, to oral, lesbianism and porn.

mmmm...Indian food

Now where was I? Congrats kids!

Crisis At Yosemite: N.H.F in Girlish Collapse

N.H.F. before the girlish collapse.

In a shocking development, the man that effortlessly conquered Mt. Whitney, had a dehydrated fueled collapse after a 17 mile hike at Yosemite. He told me, "I knew I was in trouble when I reached the top and was completely spent in the 90 degree heat." He was then callously abandoned by others in his party, leaving only his sweet-spirited, but dainty and minuscule girlfriend, Jessica, behind to assist the 6'2" jug-head down the mountain. After the grueling decline, N.H.F. began to rattle and hurled repeatedly. When asked if he needed to go to the hospital, he toolishly barked, "F*ck that!" and hobbled off back to the lodge. Once there, he parked on the couch and got the shakes. Jessica thought it was time to call the hospital, but even though he was ill, he still managed to be annoying and refused aid. Hallucinations followed (some say he called out "Please find T and bring him here to my deathbed, this could be the end!") and finally Jessica was overcome by hysteria and fled to the front desk to ask what she should do. In a panic, the owner of the cabin called 911. N.H.F. told me, "I woke up to find myself surrounded by people! The paramedics thought I should come to the hospital via Ambulance, to receive fluids via I.V., because I was suffering from advanced dehydration (the tool thought he was a camel and had only sipped water, gingerly, during the hot and steep trek) but I was not going out like a chump! They said they couldn't make me go so I refused and hydrated on my own!"

Happier times at harrowing heights. N.H.F. and Jessica at a height that scares me something fierce! White people=Billy Goats

Poor N.H.F. But, if I'm being candid, he should have known better. He's experienced and should know to stay hydrated. It's uncharacteristic and alarming. I feel even worse for Jessica. It's always worse for women to watch someone they care about suffer, as they are already fragile due to tilting womb and the onset of hysteria that it brings. But let's not lose sight of the true victim here: Me. Yes, I came thisclose to accepting N.H.F.'s offer to accompany them to Yosemite. While there was no way in hell I would have gone on that hike (I define indoorsy), I thought, "This might be a nice get away, a chance to smell the fresh air and reflect." After some consideration, I decided to reflect at home. Had I gone, I would be completely traumatized now after watching the bossy and gregarious N.H.F. in such a weakened and pitiful state (He was the only alpha-male on the trip as the recently engaged peanut-head Dave, the only other guy in attendance, is a bottom. When left without leadership in foreign environments, I succumb to anxiety). Just thinking about it is stressing me out. Now, I’ll think twice about going on the next expedition and possibly miss out on a good time. All thanks to one mans failure to stay hydrated. Rude.

Learn from this.

Good day.

Buffoons Bring Tom-Foolery to Singles Auction

Tools


The winning $200 bidding form.

The Griswolds, Legolas the Elf, Allison, a loud and drunk Krazy-Kim, Stavvy and yours truly, rolled out to Bondi Australian restaurant for a Charity Singles Auction. There is an old saying, a fool and his money are soon parted. Well..... the unapologetic, dim-witted duo of Nemo and D3, learned this lesson the hard way at the auction after Nemo suggested that they put MY name down, along with a $200 bid, for 3 days/2 nights at a Mission Beach vacation rental that was being auctioned off for event. When my name was announced, as the winning bid, I stood there confused until Nemo and D3 clued me in to what had happened. I asked them, "Why would you do that? Ok, so my name was called and I looked stunned for a moment. You had your fun. Now, you have to pay $200 for a Mission Beach vacation rental. If I want a Mission Beach vacation I'll drive over to OJ and NHF's. You're fools but at least its for charity." Nemo was genuinely shocked ("I just suggest to crazy Danny. No idea he would really do." "Tough titty said the kitty but the milk still good," I replied. "Get over there and pay your half for your foolishness." D3, already well "refreshed" in anticipation of getting auctioned off, was actually happy about it and belched, "We can have a party!"



The emcee for the evening (at the microphone) called me out (by name) OVER and OVER again ("Get to the cashier and pay for your winning bid!" "Those aren't real raffle tickets!") thanks to dumb Nemo and brain-dead D3. In the bottom corner is one of the wheel-chair bound athletes that benefited from the charity.


Here's the event organizer AND a single that braved the auction-block, Romeana, who describes herself as having an Italian attitude with an Irish temper (or "bitchy" in a nutshell), on the auction web-site.


Romeana was the first to be auctioned off and I'll tell you the truth. I don't know how ANYONE had the nerve to get on that stage and invite the embarrassment of possible low bidding. I would hyperventilate and then have a nervous breakdown before the opening bid, certain that I would sit there with no bids and a double chin. With this in mind, I'll be giving most of the auctioned persons a free pass and will uncharacteristically hold my waspish tongue (well, except for D3 and Nemo, of course). Romeana, on the other hand, had NO such insecurities, as she sat confidently and eventually went for a wallet bursting $350 (!!!)


The buyer? Holy mother of drama!!! I'm so happy!!! That's Grosslos, Stavvy's first love! They had a tumultuous three year relationship that went belly up. Thank heavens for that or I would have never met beloved and beefy Jon! Grosslos seemed like a nice enough bloke, but we couldn't possibly be pals.


This lucky and beer-guzzling guy won a bike at the raffle! (When I bitched that I wanted to win the bike and threatened to ride it out of the front door, Mik made me feel a little better by stating, "You're too fat for that. It would fold in half the second you sat down.") Later, he also left with a date! As he successfully purchased a date with the lady below. While I detest gossip, I could have sworn I saw them canoodling at the bar!




A Minute with Mik

The newly engaged (again) Mik Griswold returned from Italy last week (bearing gifts! great gifts!) and he made the rounds at Bondi catching up with folks he hasn't seen in ages, while his fiancee, Angela Griswold, was catching up on her beauty rest (Translation: She passed out cold after too much liquor). On the photo above, Mik caught up with Stavvy's BFF, Laura . On the photo below, he caught up with with Kristi (a lass that appreciates men every bit as much as the man-hungry Maria), who made a bee-line towards us, after she saw Legolas the Elf, and purred, "Who is that?" If I were one for gossip, I'd tell you that later on I saw cell-phones whipped out and numbers exchanged.


This concludes a Minute with Mik


I love this photo. The two tall and comely twins were won by the guy on the left. He looks either absolutely stunned by his good fortune or horrified that this picture may find its way back to his wife.


While we were waiting for Colin, D3 and Nemo to be auctioned off, I took notice that the ladies were getting out of control. I demanded the auction number be given to me so they could not mistakenly bid in a drunken stupor. D3 yipped, “No, what fun is that if the most boring of us all has the bidder? Give it to Krazy-Kim!” Hearing this, Krazy begin to stomp her feet and bellowed, “I want it! I want it! Why can’t I have it?” It was so loud that people began to stare like I was beating my child or something, so I gave her the bidder and fled. Messes. Later, D3 would come to regret this interference.

Allison Attacks!

Freed from the restraint of composure and propriety, Allison was a hoot. So much so that I told her, "Who knew you were so much fun?" Shortly before she passed out (at least she waited until we left the auction, unlike Mrs. Griswold). She cut a path of destruction through the auction that culminated with the disaster of the Mik/Nemo bid. Here she snuggles up to Colin. On the right is the lass that I'm going to set up with O.J. because she looked active yet loves Top Model, she also has a fun, frog-like voice.


Here, I told Allison to, "Lean in close, now sniff him." She happily obliged. I told Colin, "You need to be grateful that this quaint, raggedy-ass, back-woods ass, hillbilly-ass auction won't allow men to bid on men. Otherwise, although baby is broke, I would have raised funds to secure our date." When he was done laughing and alternately checking himself out in the mirror, he replied, "Well, you could have had one of the ladies bid for you!" Sadly, it was too late to sell Nemo into white slavery but I began to scheme with a drunken Allison, who had ALSO gone in on a scheme with two other girls!!


This bartender rushed over after Krazy dropped her drink. In a moment of much hilarity, Allison lifted his shirt and openly molested him while he swept up the broken glass. He was a good sport, as all the people in the vicinity burst into laughter (mine was a flat out cackle/guffaw hybrid), and allowed Allison to continue to rub his chest and stomach until she had her fill and once again went searching for Colin.

Tool Time

So, earlier that day when Nemo told me that he and D3 were going to be auctioned off as a DOUBLE-date, I spat (in a moment of complete candor), "Who the hell is going to want that?" (at this point I was slapped on the wrist by Angela). I should clarify, while they are both very sweet, I consider them to be heavy burdens upon me and the thought of some dear girl suffering through a double-date with them, ripe with broken English and a bum liver, fills me with woe.

Things seemed off to a bleak start, as initially women seemed confused by Nemo's sylish, green chiffon jacket and silver shoes and D3's seemingly permanent, cherry-red lip-stick. They must have thought that a sweet, gay couple was on the auction block. Someone must have yelled, "Those aren't twinks! They're tools!" Because soon the bidding kicked into high gear.


Unfortunately, the bidding was coming from a drunken Krazy, Allison and Stavvy. In an attempt to drive up the price, they bid $250 and got owned. It was beautiful. First, faced with coughing up the cash, they turned on EACH OTHER, with all assigning blame elsewhere for the winning bid. Smug and satisfied, I got off my patented, "Well you have no one to blame but yourselves! I told you to let me hold that damn bidder." It gets even better, it was at this point that Angela passed out and Krazy took her to my car to "help" her (and avoid stiff charity fees, if you ask me). Nemo cried, "I can't believe this. This is worst night ever. I spend $100 on condo and now I have no date." (he was actually hoping a cute lass would snatch him and his shattered English up) The next morning, Allison provided me with one last good belly laugh when she told me, "I was a mess last night. I never get like that. I remember we won an auction. Who did we win? Was it Nemo?"


Now get this. The event RAN OUT OF TIME and they still had TWO bachelors left to auction, Stavvy's ex, Grosslos, and the grande finale of Colin!! Flummoxed, the event organizers were forced to turn it into a DOUBLE-DATE and I was immediately grateful I didn't sell my car.


With the bidding over $300, Grosslos took off his shirt. I thought, "No he did NOT just take his shirt off up in here!" The bidding completely stalled at that point as Colin had to act like he hadn't been waiting his whole life to take his shirt off on stage and show off his red-band Calvin Klein underwear.


BAM! The bidding shot upwards of $350.
$349.50 of that, was for Colin.


Who knew? That an auction I called back-woods and hillbilly would provide the single gayest moment I've seen in months....and I've watched boat-loads of illegally downloaded porn!

Good Day.

Mirth (Editor In Chief is On Vacation and I'm Too Tired to Come Up with a Headline)

The mostly chuckle free new issue of Rolling Stone chronicles the new "Golden Age of Comedy" Quite frankly, aside from a rare interview with David Letterman and an interesting essay on how situational-comedy, especially awkward uncomfortable humor, like Borat, the Office and Pineapple Express, has replaced the punch-line(Conan O'Brien speculates, "I think people still appreciate a good joke, but if something seems slick, it doesn't smell right to the audience. People are wary of comedy that seems too prepackaged."), the issue isn't terribly interesting OR funny*. When comedians were asked, "What's your favorite Joke?" Most of them came up with something really lame, but here are my three favorites (all are dreadfully inappropriate):

Robin Williams:
Guy’s having sex with his wife. All of a sudden he looks over, and there in the doorway is his son, about eight years old. Kid looks horrified, and the kid runs away. The guy says to his wife, “Well, I’d better talk to Timmy.” He puts on his clothes and goes to Timmy’s room. He opens the door, and there’s Timmy nailing Grandma. The father goes, “Oh, my God!” And the kids goes, “Not so funny when it’s your mom, is it?”

Sarah Silverman:
Q: What did the waitress say to the table of Jewish Women?
A: Is anything all right here?

Zach Galifianakis (who the hell is Zach Galifianakis?)
Guy goes to the doctor, and the doctor says, "Sir, you've got to stop masturbating." And the guy was like, "Why?" And the doctor says, "So I can examine you."


There's also a list of The 25 Funniest Web Videos. Here's but a smidgen of the list:


The Dramatic Lemur!


From Rolling Stone: This 2007 clip is even funnier if you know the back story, in which a crew of California geeks spent months readying their own life-sized, rocket-powered X-Wing Fighter for launch. At least until the Empire gets wind of their plans. Ok, I'm still laughing at this one. I'm a hopeless nerd.


But it could be worse. This is allegedly Web's most popular video wit nearly 1 billion views and counting (!!!) I'd never seen it, but I'll agree with Rolling Stone that this 2002 video of a 14-year-old dork filming himself on school equipment doing his best/worst Darth Maul (only to have sinister schoolmates lift the footage and make Internet history at his expense), is painful to watch.

Good Day.

*But what do I know? Whats not funny to me may be funny to you. While I think spaghetti cat is hilarious, both N.H.F. and Beefy-Jon burped, "I don't get it." (There is nothing to "get" with Spaghetti Cat. It's either funny to you or not)and Ex-Hot-Nerd Brian thinks Dane Cook is a hoot, while I don't "get" his brand of humor (but I would still have sex with him) I don't "get" Will Ferrell either (but I would NOT have sex with him).

Yoga Yack

This is Tamara, our yoga instructor! When we were in danger of getting a different instructor, due to a conflict in Tamaras schedule, I was gripped by dread that we would get someone who did not smell as nice. Alarmed, I successfully spear-headed a campaign to move the entire class to a different hour to accommodate her!

Well we've barrelled past the three month mark of our weekly, company-yoga sessions and I am happy to report that (even though you can't tell by looking at me) I haven't missed a single session. This is in marked contrast to the company owner who attended two sessions and now has an excuse every week NOT to attend. It's gotten so bad that he now hands me the check to pay the Fit Barre studio, that we use in this complex, because he doesn't have the nerve to face them. Here is a recap of our weekly Tuesday morning conversation:

Cute Adidas shorts before the incident.

The Boss: I'm not going to be able to make yoga today, I have too much work. Tell Shannon I'll be there next week (Shannon is the owner of the girlish and over-priced Fit Barre studio that hosts our company yoga session. I like it because there is Soft-N-Dri spray deodorant in the bathroom and it keeps me from smelling musty after our brutal workouts). Here's the check for our monthly dues.

T: (after an eye-roll) You realize that you've said this every week...and we've only been doing this three months. Tamara (the fit and sexy yoga instructor with an amazing rear), used to ask, "Where's the boss?" but even she's given up. I think it's time for you to admit you're not coming back.

The Boss: No! I'll be there next week.

T: (after another eye-roll) mmmm-hmmmm

Bakasana or Crane pose. Allegedly tones and strengthens the abdominal organs and arms.

Anyway, it was bound to happen sooner or later, but at this week's session I was trying to extend my warrior pose and heard a loud "Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip!" I thought to myself, "I know I did not just break wind up in here!" and was relieved to discover that I had only ripped a large whole in my shorts and a large portion of meaty thigh was visible. Normally, I'd be embarrassed, but I'll tell you the truth, one of the best things about company yoga is that your co-workers see you sweaty and looking ugly, it is a bonding experience and you truly stop giving a f**k. This came in handy, later in the hour, when I successfully balanced for a good three seconds during the difficult Bakasana (Crane Pose, see photo above). Tamara yelled, "You've got it!" and I was so excited that it totally threw me off balance. I fell head-first in the loudest collapse that studio has EVER heard (seriously, it seemed like I fell for five seconds). It would have been NICE if my co-workers stifled their laughter, but I guess after Tamara let out that guffaw, they felt they had free reign.

The rip.

Shorts are thrown out. I'm still left to ponder why I'm not losing any weight.

Good Day.

A Gay Old Time

Lauren Brie had not only the nights best photo, but Tyra & Co. gushed that it was one of the best in Top Model HISTORY! Uh-oh. She is going to be the big spoiler if this keeps up!

The inaugural “gay night” for Top Model Cycle 11, kicked off at Twin and Jessie’s last night and it was a smashing success. Gay Night is a term coined by Mik to describe a gathering where we watch Top Model (By far, the gayest show on television), cluck, and eat. The first rule of gay night: You must be gay OR enjoy watching Top Model. Yes, it is discriminatory, inclusive and restrictive.


Nykesha was axed after the judges admonished her unprofessional behavior AND the fact that she was too thin (!!!) Viewers of gay night agreed that she looked more like a man than Isis the tranny, and often became confused between the two.

Last night, I suspected we had an interloper in our ranks (which consisted of Stavvy, Maggie the Bobblehead and of course, Twin, Twins adopted daughter, Jessie and Esteban the bottom) after Twin’s well-coiffed and square-jawed Ex-boyfriend (or current? I can’t keep up) arrived. I pointedly asked, “What are you doing here? You realize you have to be gay OR a fan of Top Model to be included in gay night? Which are you?“ He answered, “Well, if those are my only two options, I’ll go with I’m a fan of Top Model.” I cautioned, “I’ll be watching you…” If he wasn’t a fan when we started, he certainly is now. By evenings end, we all agreed to convene at Twin’s next Wednesday for the holy grail of Top Model nights (yes, even more important than the finale), the glorious MAKEOVER NIGHT! Tyra will let everyone know what’s up, teeth will be fixed, damaged hair will be chopped and models will cry.


Paging Nemo! Isis is busted until the camera turns on and then "BAM!" that's one hot tranny!
Isis is pre-op (that means she still has a penis. It has to be VERY tiny as she is often shown in a bikini) and wants to win Top Model to pay for her penis removal surgery.


If she wants to get rid of her tootsie-roll, she'll have to do better than last night. She flopped and ended in the bottom two, but was spared ONLY because Nykesha looks even more like a man!

Till Death Do Us Part? You Bet!

I'm still waiting for a photo of the newly engaged Tea W/Lemon power couple. As soon as I get it, I'm going to put it up on weddingbetting.com. That's a web-site that lets you predict how long couples will last, based on photos from wedding announcements submitted by users! Since I know this couple will make it in the long haul, I want to use them to test the accuracy of the site. Yes, marriage can be quite the gamble, some people are just made for each other (a la Stavvy & Jon, Genevieve & Bruno). While others simply....aren't. (Paging Maria and D3!)

Toothy & Tools: A Moose-Knuckled Tragedy

Toothy and Tool #1. He may actually be nice but is labeled as tool because he thinks he is "down", although he's never been near Compton, and listens to lots of rap music.

I'm beginning to think Justin has something against me (maybe it's because I refuse to call him by the dreadful, toolish moniker of "J-money"). First he flags me on his Facebook account in a photo from Gay Pride where I'm carrying Maggies big-ass purse and wearing white, manpri pants. Shortly thereafter, I received an e-mail, from an old college chum who is one of "friends" on Facebook, that stated, "Wow. You came roaring out of the closet. I can't see your feet. Are you wearing heels?" UGH! Then yesterday, I'm minding my own business, not hurting anyone, when Justin sends me an e-mail with a link to w..blinkink.com because there were tons of pics of the Wet, End of Summer Pool Party from the W. Double UGH! I never, ever wanted to see any photos from that party ever again because the majority of men in attendance (99%) were busted. Worst yet, there were several pics of Toothy with tools! I have posted some of them here because I don't feel I should have to suffer alone.

A Toothy-n-tool samich. I was fixated on these guys because they both remind me of someone (especially the one on the right).

Yup, you guessed it. The Leader! Nemesis of the Incredible Hulk! The resemblence is uncanny!

Have mercy. Toothy is actually leaning INTO the shot! She's senseless! Notice how Serious-Sista (What else could I call her? She looks DEADLY serious! Don't ever, ever tell her she's looking anything less than cute or risk a cuss-out), is leaning out! This photo actually compromised my lunch because all I could think about...

was how much that guy looks like porn-icon, Ron Jeremy! Gross. After that, the only thing I could see was him preparing to engage in some Toothy and Serious Sista fun. Uh-oh, here comes more upchuck!

I'm outta here, as you can see, Toothy was just getting started but I'm too scared to go on.

Good Day.

Lomatone Off Key and Off Market

The radiant bride and prone to sudden outbursts of warbling, groom

The trolley arrives with the bride and her brides-maids. One of them quite bitchy. Notice Krazy-Kim in front. She was the wedding planner (her FIRST ever!) and as far as I can tell from watching her, the duties of a wedding planner consist of stomping around and looking stressed out or pissed off.

I'll tell you the truth, the nuptials of Steve the Lomatone and his bride, Shelley were my favorite EVER! The ceremony was so wonderfully brief, I thought I may weep. Since it took place in a neighborhood park in a nice La Jolla neighborhood, I can only assume they had to wrap the whole thing up before the cops arrived to ask, "What the hell is going on here?"

No, that's not the bitchy one. Just another brides-maid duped into spending big bucks on a brides-maid dress. They always say you can wear the dress again (Stavvy confessed she used the same line on her bridesmaids), and I just waiting for someone to tell me exactly where. I think it was Joan Rivers that asked, "Where can you wear the dress again? How many Puerto Rican proms do you go to?"

There she is now, the man-hating, ball-busting, venom spewing matron of honor. She delivered such a scathing speech, denouncing men in general and labeling them "stupid", at the reception it was jaw-dropping. Shockingly, she's actually married!

The bride strolls down the grass toward Steve and possible doom. It would have been so much more exciting if she bolted at the last minute to flee into one of the neighboring homes.

There weren't enough chairs for everyone to sit at the ceremony (as several neighbors, curious as to what was going on, walked over and took a seat), and since we were late, we had to stand. Luckily, the ceremony was so brief I didn't even have time to bitch about it. The whole thing would have been ten minutes tops, if Steve hadn't broken into song when it was his turn to recite his vows.

I thought, "Good Lord, don't tell me he's about to burst into song!" He did. You can watch a snippet of his wedding day warbling above. As expected, Shelly slurped, blubbered and became over-emotional through the whole performance. I would have cried too and whispered, "Watch your pitch, baby. Watch your pitch."



Steve gives me a dirty look after I mouthed quietly to him, "Your voice had more crack in it than a Tijuana whore!"


Here's Steve's long-lost brother! They just found him a few years ago (it's some long story I don't remember) and he was in the wedding party.


I think that blond is giving me a slightly dirty look. She better be grateful I didn't notice until I was looking at the photos.

The excited couple arrive at the reception. Steve would break into song again, with his band the Lomatones, and (I'm not kidding) some Lomatone groupie lost her sh*t and completely spazzed out, to the enjoyment of the crowd.

After the blessedly brief ceremony, we bolted and headed over to the reception which was on some gorgeous cove in LaJolla. We were the first to arrive and I made a bee-line for the cheese platter. I'll tell you the truth again, the food at the reception was ON POINT! They didn't screw around with some little, candy ass plate. There was a full BUFFET (!!!) with some melt-in-your mouth beef that almost made me weep.


No, this is not an Olan Mills portrait. I took that of Beefy-Jon and Stavvy at the reception.


We even made a new friend at the reception...OOOPS! I said, "move in for a picture" and Stavvy was a little too...over-eager.


Here she is now, that's Derrell. A sweet-spirited blonde that did some modeling gig for Stavvy. She was seated at our table and went out with us after the reception.


...to Universal. Yes, we went directly to Universal, in our nice clothing. B.J. insisted as he wanted to see it before going underground. Here, Derrell bumps and grinds with Kevin, a friend of Fun Gay Benjamin.


I turned down a slew of offers to accompany me to the wedding so I could bring Legoloas the elf. I thought it was important for him to get in some Beefy-Jon time before BJ leaves for a top-secret, 6 month mission (I'll have a photo-parade tomorrow, wishing BJ good luck as he will be incognito for half a year. This is one of the reasons he's growing that dreadful beard.) This proved to be a wise move. The moment we walked into the reception I thought, "The centerpieces are cute. I'm getting one for sure." (You can take baby out of the streets but.....). You see, someone is getting that centerpiece so I figure it should be me. Later, the bride confirmed, "Those were so expensive! The vases alone cost a mint! I hope everyone takes one." I told her, "I already put one in Stavvy and Jon's car," and she shrieked with delight. On our way out, Legolas burped, "I have to use the bathroom." I said, "Good, and grab the centerpiece out of the bathroom while you're in there, so I can put it in the bathroom at home." He did (although he looked stunned the entire time) and I did.


Krazy-Kim could only stare on in horror as I engaged in the coveted center-piece swipe. In the words of my co-worker, Ethyl, "It was never my intention to be ghetto, I just am."


Ok, that's all for now.

Congrats to the happy couple!