People From High School

Smellso went out to the Gay Pride Parade today to do stuff for Red Bull. When she got home, she informed me that she saw The Freaker Outer and a girl I went to high school with. She only knew it was a girl I went to high school with because when we were at a gay bar for work back in October, I swear I saw high school girl there canoodling with some other chick. That's cool, whatever, its totally cool with me ya know. Well apparently Smellso got to talking to this chick a little bit and this is how the story goes:

• Smellso: So where are you guys from?
• Chick: Monterey
• Smellso: Oh my roommate is from there.
• Chick: Who's your roommate?
• Smellso: Christiane DeSalvo
• Chick: Oh yeah I know her. She went to RLS with me. She would probably call me a big dyke, which is fine because I am one. But she is a pretty girl....

I don't even know how to respond to that one.

"I Hate Other People's Kids"

"I Hate Other People's Kids" by Adrianne Frost is quite possibly the funniest, most honest interpretation of those pesky things that parents love to call "bundles of joy". If you know me well enough, you know that I can't stand kids, and this book hits so many points so well. She touches on the obvious shit that we encounter with other people's kids on a regular basis, but compares the kids to wombats, monkeys and dogs, to name a few. How they smell (like Cheese Nips and feet), how they run around (like wind up toys), how that jabber endlessly (like a skipping record), it's never ending.

My thought on kids: they shouldn't be let out of the house unless they are fully trained. That means, no snot running down their face, or dried and caked for that matter; no stupid costume unless its Halloween (including the ridiculous infant butterfly or dog outfits; they don't know, so don't put them in it); no velcro shoes; no playing in the dirt/sand/oil/reclaimed water; no asking of the same question incessantly; no talking for that matter unless it's intelligent and/or pertaining to what is going on; no tugging at the pants/skirt/shorts/etc; no running, period; no screaming; no crying (I don't care how fast that car hit you); and definitely without a doubt no whining. I don't care how tired/upset/bored you may be, just deal with it and you will go home when mom or dad is damn good and ready.

Those are just my thoughts about the little buggers all parents tell stories about. How great they are, how smart they are, how responsible they are. It's all bullshit. If they were all these things they wouldn't be tearing down that display rack right now nor would they asking "what time are we leaving." That's not responsible and definitely not smart. If they were smart, they would know that I was about to smack they upside the head or trip them on purpose as they come barreling down the hallway. If they were responsible, they would know that when they leave 57 toys around the house, said toys would immediately find the recycling bin and/or the dog's mouth. And if they were great, they would be at home asleep with a babysitter, no calls required.

Frost does touch on the points I mention above, but I decided to have my own rant on them. She also touches briefly on photographs of kids, but I would like to say more. All babies look the same. They look the same in the ultrasound (like a lima bean growing into an oddly shaped dog toy), they look the same coming out (disgusting and foul, no one should see that), and lastly, they look the same once they are born (ugly). No kid is cute when its born. In fact, all newborns have the same characteristics as E.T., no questions asked, except for that baby Pooper and I saw at Broken Yolk that one time, which in its case looked like an emancipated freak alien that should never have been brought out in public because it only receives unnecessary berating comments like those I am disposing right this minute. Back to the point, all those babies are gross, ugly and disgusting; they don't even start to develop non-alien like features until they are at least a year (not 12 months) or older. On that note too, don't tell me they are 27 and a half months; I have no idea what the eff that means. I graduated and have moved on with my life. I don't have time to do the month to year breakdown, granted it's not like I care how old your effing kid is anyway. I probably just asked to humor you, not to hear the answer.

I am closing this rant and rave with an excerpt from the book because I laughed hysterically outloud because we all know these people that do this:

"You don't want to talk to Other People's Kids on the phone. You don't want to talk to your friends while they are dealing with their kids. When you call your friend's house, you wish to talk to him/her on the phone. You dont' say, "Hey is Harry Jr. there? I'd like to hear him gurgle." So much time is wasted as the kid tries to form words and sentences with a parent coaching them in the background. You rarely talk to your mother when she calls, and for the same reasons."

Sweating

Ok seriously this weather is really getting out of hand and I'm not a fan at all. Did it really need to be 100 degrees at the beach last Saturday with no wind and an extensive amount of humidity? Do we need to have 70-80% humidity every effing day? Does it really need to be anywhere from 81-92 degrees with said humidity everyday since Saturday? And more importantly, does it have to be overcast with those temperatures and humidity? What is eff is this all about? I seriously have been sweating since the beginning of June and defintely for all July. Since I moved into this house I haven't taken a hot shower, not even a warm one. Everyday I turn it all the way to freezing and that doesn't help because the sun roasts the pipes. Lose lose situation I tell you.

Washing Machines

I am sitting here writing blogs about the past weekend because MySpace isn't working and that's what would normally take up my time right now, and I hear the washing machine upstairs starting the spin cycle. Normally it's relatively loud, but for whatever reason it's out of control loud. Words immediately out of my mouth "What the eff is going on up there?" With the response from Pooper "Oh God!!!!" I immediately run upstairs and for whatever reason the washing machine has elected to try to walk out of the laundry room by means of the closed doors. What is that about? I can't even begin to explain the comedy.

Friday Night

New things were invented on Friday night/Saturday day that I feel everyone should be aware of:

1. There is no long just a Tequila/Patron Train. Recently added: Jager Yacht, Fernet Ferry, Beer Bike and the ever so popular, Rumpleminze taxi.
2. All of the above take you straight to Wasted Island, no questions asked.
3. If you ride said vehicles long enough, they take you to Blackout Beach, which is located on Wasted Island.
4. And with out fail, especially when mixing, you take a trip to Hangover Heaven, which never makes for a good morning.

Actually that's not true...

...The good ole Audi is not on her way out; she is actually getting fixed and alledgedly coming back into my possession tomorrow, but we know how these things go. I thought I was going to get her back on Thursday, but apparently while replacing the water pump and timing belt (bc apparently those were a necessity to fix along with the radiator), they found a second radiator underneath which was shot as well. Yes, I guess I have two radiators. Sweet. They told me I would get her back on Friday. Friday morning comes and I guess the radiator that was supposed to be coming from LA does not exist in LA, in fact, it doesn't exist anywhere in the state of California. Of course, why would it? This leads them to tell me they are having it overnighted to them, but since they don't work on Saturdays, it will be available to pick up on Monday. Again, why wouldn't it be?

So I guess I will get her tomorrow and she better freakin last a while or I personally will kick her ass. I don't really want to deal with her attitude anymore.

On it's way out

It's looking like the good ole Audi may have seen her last of days. I can't make any guarantees at this point, but looking at it financially, it's not really worth fixing her at this point. I'm sure my father will think otherwise, but realistically it would be the best choice at this time. Basically I am rolling car-less for the next few days until the situation is fixed, but it can't be fast enough.

Oh yeah and the car place screwed me. I asked them to check it out, see what needed to be fixed, which blatently was the radiator due to excessive overheating [new radiator installed] but in the process they didn't seem to pick up on the fact that the water pump needed attention as well. The water pump and the radiator work together so I don't know how they missed it. Anyhow, I leave with new radiator, hoses and tune up to come to a stop and realize that excessive amounts of coolant are running away from my car. Fan-effing-tastic. I take it back and this is when they enlighten me that I need a new water pump, not to mention a new timing belt because said water pump is right on it. Fan-effing-tastic. They say it will be an additional 500 to the 500 I already paid. I just said eff it, left the car and told them to not touch it until I contacted them.

So now it's the deciding factor with the units whether to say goodbye to the dear ole Audi or invest more in her. Personally and financially I don't feel its worth it...but the dad may think otherwise.

Bah

The Units

Weekend Recap:

• The Units made their first appearance in a year to America's Finest City. They had a good time and lived it up with the Stinky and her posse.
• Started it off at Tower23 where they got to meet up with quite the posse. Those in attendance: Pooper, Scooper, Smellso, T-Rex, Cuppy, L-Wood, Pooper's Brother, Skin Tag & his posse, Fuscilli and Ninja Star. L-Wood forced my dad, nay all of us, to have chocolate milks with him, Smellso knocked over several beers off the bar and I believe Pooper may have knocked over a draft beer, but that has yet to be determined.
• The Units, Pooper & Pooper's Brother jumped in a "family" cab to the Sandbar with the rest of us in tow. I would like to point out that the Sandbar manager bought my dad a shot of tequila and a Bud Light and the DJ gave three shout outs to "Christiane's Units," including one specifically going out to Mom Unit ("Naughty Girl") because she was dancing.
• The Units peaced out early and we stayed dancing and celebrating O Todd's birthday (and yes, he was also in attendance along with Brother Black)
• The Units had a great time and returned safely back to the 831.
• Pooper, T-Rex, Kitty, Giggles and I made a Wavehouse appearance yesterday for an attempt at Sunday Funday, but it was so effing hot that we had to leave due to excess sweat.
• Other than that, slept a lot and made several attempts to meet up with The Pit and Red Baron, to no avail.

Rock, Paper, Scissors tournament makes its return to the Wavehouse tonight at 7PM. I highly recommend being in attendance because it is definitely worth a good laugh.

Ducks

For whatever reason, every night around the 11 o'clock hour, someone rides/drives down Ingrahm blowing a duck sounding whistle. I think its quite humorous every time and I chuckle to myself, but then I realized it happened every night. What is that about? Are they rallying the Ducks? Do I run outside, strap on roller blades and follow the sound? Do I chant "Ducks, Ducks, Ducks" in anticipation I am going to find Emilio Estevez when I find the source? Is Charlie really going to play with us or just pose as an Asst Coach? Are we facing Iceland as Team America or are we just plain Ducks?

These are the things I think about.

RPS

If you have never been to a Rock, Paper, Scissors (RPS) Tournament before. GO
If you have never witnessed people with teams and entourages for RPS. DO IT.
If you have never witnessed said people drinking heavily for said tournament. YOU NEED TO.

It's probably one of the most entertaining and funny things you have seen, yet its something so incredibly simple and fun that we learned when we were 5 years old. The official San Diego Rock, Paper, Scissors Tournament is held every Monday Night during the month of July at the Wavehouse in Mission Beach from 7-9PM. The winner from each Monday wins a trip to Vegas (air and hotel) for 3 days/2 nights, and its all for playing Rock, Paper, Scissors. I shit you not. It's hilarious, people get incredibly into it and they get exceptional upset when they lose. The competition is fierce and the drinking levels are intense. Uniforms are even busted out. It was the sight to be seen. Evidence of this event below.



So if you haven't done it, come play. I mean what have you got to lose? You play, you drink, you possibly win a trip. I mean you can even dress up if you want...you know I am rocking the RPS uniform next week.

I'll close out with the USA Rock Paper Scissors League Oath (Yes there is one, and yes events like this are on ESPN):
"I know that RPS belongs to no man or woman and was created before recorded history. To that end, as I prepare to battle and engage my worthy and respected opponent, I honor the RPS players that came before me. I recognize the rules and regulations of the International Rock Paper Scissors Federation as the governing body of the sport and yield to the authority of its referees and officials. RO-SHAM-BO-SHOOT"

Drunken Voicemails

I would like to point out I left T-Rex the best voicemail in the history of the world (not to compliment myself) on Saturday night at 130AM.

"I am Stinky. I am Stinky Pants. Woo!" ::Click::

That is all.

Power Hour & UFC

I got the most amazing message from our friend CK yesterday:
"Christiane, it's CK. Your girls' presence has been requested for our viewing of the UFC 61 tonight at Athen's. We have excessive amounts of beer left over from the 4th. Power hour will ensue at 730. Call me."

Now when was the last time I did Power Hour you ask? Probably junior year of college (and it was Century Club with Mickey's I might add, don't recommend it) and I vowed to never do it again because it was the worst idea (by worst I mean amazing, but still) in the history of the world. Well, I went back on my word and Smellso, Pooper and I got back on the train and did the entire thing. Granted I almost lost it at 53, but I held it together quite nicely to regain momentum to finish this thing. Why did I almost lose it? I blame the clock, the large numbered digital clock that Todd brought.

Eff that clock. Let me tell you, that clock has a mind of its own. It was great in the beginning because it was timing perfectly, just changing every minute, but as the game continued on the effing clock got faster and faster and it felt like we were shooting beer every 10 seconds. What the eff? Seriously. We were so pissed at the clock that we launched it from the 2nd story of Athen's house twice, threw it in the water filled cooler, put it on the bbq and lit it and then proceeded to throw it on the ground and stomp on it. It didn't stand a chance.

Effing clock.

Tapatio & Stinky - Dynamic Duo

Tapatio and Stinky are one gruesome twosome when you put them out together. I wasn't planning on staying out all night, as a matter of fact I wasn't planning on drinking that much. I blame the Rumpleminze, or the Jager, or the Tequila, or the Rumpleminze....

Tapatio's goal: Get kicked out of the Tavern. Mission accomplished.
- Bouncer: My manager says I have to kick you out.
- Tapatio: Well your manager is an asshole.

The best part was was that we were giving each other high fives and cheering as we left, which made the bouncer that much more annoyed with us. Classic. I also had the opportunity to pull the signature Stinky move of "can I have a bite of that?" on Jeremy. It was a good one too because I completely jacked his burrito and continued to finish it off, which wasn't my intention initially but it worked out, just not for Jeremy. He also shouldn't have left Tapatio and I because we apparently thought it would be a good choice to walk in the opposite direction of where we live, get tired and lay down for a nap in someones yard on Chalcedony.

Also, I opted to wake up and run away, leaving Tapatio to fend for himself, but in the process I managed to leave my purse with everything in it on the sidewalk next to him. I woke up in quite the state of confusion when I couldn't figure out how I didn't come home with anything, or how I got home for that matter.

I returned back to the Tavern today to retrieve my credit card, [which was actually in my wallet just in the wrong place, Baker, don't even comment :) ], and one of the bouncers told me he has never seen two people so amped about getting kicked out of a bar before. He also mentioned that he gave the bouncer that booted us (he was new) the third degree.
Direct Quote: "You have to be careful who you kick out. You have to ask one of us before you kick someone out. Don't you know who she is? She spends a lot of time, money and energy at this place, which means I don't care if she is falling over, she stays and so do her friends."

I love that bar.
Coming soon: Video of Tapatio and Stinky dancing to "Party all the Time"

Yar

It's official, anything that I carry out with me on a regular basis is no longer existant. No one should leave me and Troy alone at a bar because we take random shots, get kicked out and then lay on the street innocently trying to get home. I don't know what happened but I must go find my purse now.

yar

Biking

Word to the wise: I highly don't recommend drunk bike riding on the busiest day of the year in San Diego (4th of July) if you haven't practiced bike riding completely sober for an extended amount of time.

I crashed and burned into the sand, Smellso crashed and burned into the sand, Pooper crashed and burned into a parked car and Scooper crashed and burned into a parked car. All in all, a successful day in the crashing department, not to mention the excessive swerving and almost falling department.

Btw can I point out that Jeremy managed to crash my bike without even riding it...three times. Don't even ask because I couldn't begin to explain it to you, but more on Jeremy in a minute...

Welcome to the New Whore Island, Beee-otch

The move was ever so successful and is completely done. Let me tell you, 4 girls, 2 parents and 2 U-Hauls later the old house is transformed into the new house and everything it great. I mean just because we didn't really sleep for three days and our old landlord harassed the shit out of us on the day of, doesn't mean we couldn't get it done. Btw the house looks amazing thanks to Pooper...she did such an amazing job. Big shout out to Matty, Sweet Kyle and Greg for helping us keep our sanity and move/organize our U-Haul Friday Night. It was a good time had by all. Another big shout out the Pooper's units for all the help on Saturday and Sunday with moving/drilling/cleaning, etc. And a big thanks to Scooper for coming down early and helping us out, couldn't have done it without you : )