Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Heavenly Widened Roses....Seem To Whisper To Me....When You Smile.......

I'm sitting here in bliss as the sound of the rain beating against the windows intermingles with The Cowboy Junkies in my ears. It's the only thing that seems to be making the rain bearable....when it becomes the rhythm behind an enchanting song...and the backdrop for a contented mood.

That's all for now,

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Unburdening My Beast...

I went out to get cat food this the pouring, driving rain. As "Beast Of Burden" blared from my car stereo, I pulled into my driveway seeing only the silhouette of my own little beasts scratching at the window...awaiting their chopped tuna sensation.

"Pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty...such a pretty girl....pretty......pretty......."

I had things on my mind. I left the umbrella in the car and decided to brave the downpour. I was to run in the house, feed the kitties, and then....go on a design consult (ON MY DAY OFF). Simple....quick....back in a flash.

Except...being the complete asshole that I am...I hit the button. The lock....I hit it....with the keys in the ignition, and the car still running. "Beast of Burden" still playing...but in that exact moment...I changed the lyrics.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid....stupid f*cking girl....stupid....stupid"

(I'm an ass)

EVERY SINGLE ONE of my neighbors in the entire neighborhood was at work. All of them. So I tried windows, climbed the roof and tried upstairs windows, tried basement windows...all to no avail.

"I walked for feet were hurtin'. " (with no umbrella, no purse, no cell phone) Cars splashed through puddles soaking me to the bone. My shoes leaked in the mud. My teeth chattered in rhythm with the pounding rain. I trekked to the nearest gas station and begged them to use their phone. The saint behind the counter saw how pitiful I looked...mascara snaking down my face....snot jingling from my bright red nose....crazy lady humming Rolling Stones tunes....and gave me his phone. I called my Mother-In-Law and luckily...she was able to bring me a spare set of house keys. A blessing!

I shivered my way into the warmth of my home and saw the little red light on the answering was work...the client had been waiting for me....I was 1/2 hour late. Damn...damn...damn! I called and sorried myself sick explaining my whole ordeal and bathed in her forgiveness and heart felt compassion.

Adventure kicked my ass today. That's how it all went down. Every single thing really happened...crisis transpired. least that's what I told my client..........

Really??? I must have hit snooze for awhile before the phone rang and my work woke my ass causing in an instantaneous freak out! So...I lied...and you...I confess. I slept through my appointment. "Beast Of Burden" was just a dream....and I had an umbrella the whole time. But since I unburdened this beast of a lie...I feel a little lighter...though my cheeks a couple of shades redder in shame. My pants on fire....can you forgive me?

That's all for now,

P.S. Care to share some of your more interesting lil' white lies? I feel the need for camaraderie here.

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

I Need To Get A Life....

...Seriously, yeah, I've been M.I.A. but I think you should all thank your lucky stars. If I had been posting, you would have had to read about the following"

( I would say that it looks kind of like Fudge Brownie...with a little less fudge. could look like Vanilla Ice...with a LOT less hair)
click on picture to enlarge

I have a mouth nipple.'s a nipple in my mouth. A triple nipple if you will. I went to the's a cyst (blocked salivary duct)...he stuck a needle in it...which didn't do it's still large and in charge. I've always wanted a nipple piercing...never got one because the rings would've been bigger than my boobs...and I'm quite sure that look hasn't yet hit the runways in Paris. So now, it's mouth nipple ring time...or a lancing...haven't quite decided!

Uh...let's I said before, I have incessantly been rewatching The Tudors. I highly recommend that shit. It's got love, lust, betrayal, British accents...and some war, a few beheadings, stake burnings and boobs for the guys watching at home. The problem is...I know what's going to happen in every episode, yet every time I watch, I'm always brightened by that hope that THIS time...there will be a different outcome. Maybe THIS time Anne (poor poor Anne) won't get her pretty little head lopped off. Maybe THIS time that fickle King Henry VIII won't be such a prick...but know how it went....Prickdom.

See what I mean? My life has just been boring as hell. A couple of my super cool and friendly (commenting) readers have mentioned the fact that they were sick of looking at those plum colored balls...all oily. So, I felt compelled to check in, bet you wished I didn't.
I'm dull and blocked. Bitchin' combination!

I will try to have an adventure on which to report later this week.
That's all for now,

Thursday, March 18, 2010

Back Next Week...

Without realizing it...I took a mini vaca from posting...and I promise to be back next week! The weather has been too nice, my life has been too boring, and I have been spending all of my spare time rewatching The Tudors until 5am.

Priorities....ya know?

Back next week...
that's all for now,

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

Please Take My Advice: Don't Ever Eat Oily Balls - Plum Colored Or Otherwise.....

Things I have learned while dining at an Indian Restaurant with my husband = 6. I'm sure there are far more...but 6 is all that I could was such an educational evening.

1. If you don't know what it is...don't order it. S'not worth it. Just isn't.

2. If you are American in an Indian restaurant...your table will look much more boring than everyone else's...cuz' they know how to order and you don't...and their food is much more colorful and delicious looking and yours looks like slop.

3. My husband holds his fancy ice tea glass like a wussy.

4. Do not stare at the people eating at the table next to you or inquire loudly, "WHAT DO THEY HAVE? THAT LOOKS BETTER THAN WHAT WE GOT. NO FAIR!!" Your neighbors won't really appreciate it very much...neither will your spouse.

5. Do not listen to your waiter...especially if he tells you everything is "Good". "Oh good. Yes is good too. Good. Yes you good". Funny how nobody else in the entire restaurant ordered what I was having....since it was so "good". Liar liar pants on fire!

6. NEVER EVER EVER EVER order deep fried plum colored dumplings of dried milk and refined flour soaked in sugar syrup. I don't know what I was thinking but it was the only dessert that came with vanilla ice cream...and vanilla ice cream needs to be in my tummy at all times. Next time...I will just order ice cream....dried milk balls in sugar syrup are not pretty...even if they are plum colored.

Don't get me wrong...I like Indian food...when I order it at some sort of mall kiosk where I can pick and choose what I am getting. Ordering off of a 5 page menu....whole 'nother story.

That's all for now,

Thursday, March 4, 2010

Cat Calling..........

OK, so the whole Zen Brandi....Ohm...happy bullshit has been delayed for reconstruction. Called off. On hold. Check back later. I've got a bone that needs pickin'.

I drove home from work last night to find that neighborhood cat (a.k.a. "The Front Porch Pisser) sitting on the roof of our porch...peeking into my bedroom window. What The Hell??? So...not only is that little bastard a Pissing Tom, but he's a Peeping Tom as well???

I climbed the stairs to find my cat Max sprawled across my bed in a very "come hithery, porno kind of....uh....sprawl." I immediately went into "Mommy Mode".

ME: "MAXIMUS!!!!! What are you doing????? What do you think this is...a brothel? What if that cat has a could end up all over the Internet!"

MAX: Eye roll....yawn....rolls over.

ME: " it's no big deal to you? How long has this type of behavior been going on? After all this cat has done to our family and our front! YOU are allowing this...this...this...freak show to happen under my roof. I am ashamed....ashamed I say! Daddy and I always called you the Neighborhood Whore...but that's because you wouldn't leave the human neighbors I know the real truth. This is a sad day. What do you have to say for yourself?"

MAX: Shows me his big fat belly. (my heart melts...must give's required by law)

ME: "OK...don't let it happen again."

What is the world coming to when you can't even keep domesticated animals from becoming Peeping Toms? Guess I'll have to start pulling the shades. My "boys" are becoming teenagers...first it's window shows for neighborhood they'll be sexting or some shit like that.

That's all for now,

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

OOOOHHHHMMMM....... I am Zen Brandi. No telling anyone shredding my underwear in the office accusing foreign male ice skaters of being whiny little bitches. I've got the world on a string...and I'm sittin' on a rainbow.

It's March. That means it's not February. That means it's just a little closer to June, July, and August, and this makes me happy. Happy people don't rant. I believe my recent ranting was a side effect of the February Blues. (and stupid people/stupid underwear/stupid sore losing ice skaters)

I'm normally a really nice person....really...truly. Seriously. But when I blow my top, it's a gusher. I let it all spill out. I don't know if this is a blessing or a curse. I usually speak my mind...I know how to stand up for myself....and I am able to censor myself and limit my cursing...but sometimes it just feels so good to throw caution to the wind. Last was pretty windy.

But like I I am Zen. Ohm. Peace. It's March. I'm happy. The Olympics are over, today is my day off, and I plan to go on an underwear shopping spree. Bliss...pure bliss.

Life's a wonderful long as I hold that string.
That's all for now,
Photo from here

Monday, March 1, 2010

Bottoms Up....It's Dunk Tank Time....

I don't drink. I don't. I don't like the taste of ass in my mouth and I don't like feeling like ass the next morning. No...I'm not a recovering alchoholic (why do people always think that?). I just don't drink. Diet Coke is my beverage of choice.

BUT...and that's a big ol' BUT...there is one person in my life that makes me want to pop open a bottle of Goldschlager mix it with at mojito, and then chase it with a little antifreeze and get piss drunk every time I have any sort of interaction with "them".'s that bad. It's chew my cheek, bite my tongue, dig my fingernails into my palms...f*cking bad.

I hate passive aggressive people. It's like...grow some balls and tell me how you really feel. Grating, dramatic, stupid commentary (which makes me feel like I'm a total idiot) masked by sugar coated sweetness just doesn't fly with me. I would like to put this person in a dunk tank and fire off a couple thousand balls. It would be a mandatory bi-weekly event if I had my druthers.

I have been reading some blogs by my interweb friends and there is a alarming amount of talk about "mean people" as of late. I hate mean people. They make me clench my anus and I don't like to clench my anus. They make me bitch and talk/blog behind their back, and enough is enough.

LISTEN UP SUCKY MEAN PEOPLE (and my nemesis...I kind-of hope you know who you are and I kind of don't...not that I'm a pussy or anything):

I will no longer take your bullshit. Period. Exclamation Point! I'm done. Just as with my favorite cotton panties, you no longer provide me with any sort of comfort/pleasure/or support I'm theoretically throwing your ass out too. Oh, I'll be civil...just to keep the peace...but I won't be real, I won't be unguarded, and I won't be waiting to let you unload your stupid bullshit on my back....anymore. Boo-yaw.

Whew. That felt good. Cleansing. You all should try it. Normally I would just talk shit about this person to my cat who purrs in commiseration...but he's outside or off licking his asshole somewhere. Guess you all just have to do. And believe me...I love you for it.

That's all for now,