I'm just a girl. Take a good look at me. Just your typical prototype.
Email: SarcasticJournalist at hotmail dot com
Beardog is the pseudonym for a jounalist who lives in the USA. She mainly writes features (the fun stuff) at a daily newspaper, though she has made page A-1 several times. She keeps her identity a secret because she is scared of losing her job. She isn't always sarcastic, nor does she always write about journalism, though she LOVES to blog from work.
Email is fun! SarcasticJournalist at hotmail dot com About me:
Howdy! If you've gotten this far, you probably realize that
I have a lot of grammar and
punctuation mistakes on here. Probably some spelling ones,
too. Since I spend all day at
a newspaper, I try not to worry about that stuff here, though
I do notice it on other people's blogs. I am 23, married and
live somewhere in the US.I'm busy revising my first novel,
which I plan
on publishing under a pen name. I'm ready to be a full-time
novelist and not have to answer to
"The Man" everyday. I crave freedom and creativity, both of
which I do not get by having to
work 8 hours at a desk everyday. I do like what I do, though
sometimes you won't get that idea
from what I write here.
I love it when people email me and try to write back!
Blogs I read:
Gotta read the news! Fox News USA Today MSNBC CNN Drudge Washington Post Houston Chronicle
This journalist reads!
"Good in Bed"
"In Full Bloom"--reading now
"Elegance"
"The Devil Wears Prada"
"The Only Girl in the Car"
"Me Talk Pretty One Day"
"Running With Scissors"
"The Dive From Clausen's Pier" -sucks
"The Lovely Bones"
"Me Times Three"
"Confessions of a Shopaholic"
"The Solace of Leaving Early"
"A Girl Called Zippy"
To Read List:
"The Yokota's Officers Club"
"Happiness"
"The Autograph Man"
The Sarcastic Journalist
Monday, July 12, 2004 wishing and hoping...
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 12:50 AM
Sunday, July 11, 2004 It is beginning....
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 9:42 PM
Tuesday, June 29, 2004 SJ at 38.5 weeks.
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 5:58 PM
Tuesday, August 12, 2003 Ask and ye shall receive.
Hey you! Whatcha doin' lookin over here? Dontcha know she's moved to SJ.Javamama.net? Yes, that's http://sj.javamama.net
So, consider yourself warned. And please, go change those blogrolls-- if you're into that kind of thing.
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 10:27 PM
Friday, August 08, 2003 The time has come, to say goodbye
Yup, it's that time. Time for me to go home. As many of you may not know, I will be in the great state of tejas this weekend until Tuesday. So I probably won't blog much. But its okay, because that's why I have archives!
Anyway, none of yall actually read my blog on the weekend...so ha! Oh, I may have an announcement to make when I come back about some big changes. We'll see....
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 4:05 PM
yippeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
Now, this is a site that can keep me entertained for HOURS!
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 3:37 PM
yummy
Most of my husband's family met my family at the wedding. Of course, that meant they had to meet Stuart, as well. Well the husband's grandma said later on to hubby's mom "Well that Stuart had a little too much to drink."
My husband's mom had to inform her that's how he really is. He hadn't drank at all. He just seems drunk.
He has a lazy eye, meaning its hard to tell if he is looking at you. Most of my friends parents hated him, even the ones who only met him one time. I actually had a friends mom tell me that if something ever happened to my Mom that she wouldn't allow for me to live with Stuart.
He also has a big, bushy mustache and likes to hug you and kiss you on your cheek. Its gross, especially since he's a hypocrite. And he dips.
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 1:20 PM
He'll be back...
Ah-nold will make a great Governor. He'll certainly shrink the budget crisis.
Ahh, lets stroll down memory lane today, shall we? Here's a virtual tour of my dorm on campus in college. The rooms pictured have twice as much room as mine did. Seriously.
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 11:59 AM
Continuing on...
Why my sister won't visit my Mom's house anymore...
My sister is about 2.5 years old than me. AT the age of 15, she moved out of our house, partly because she hated my stepfather, partly because she was boning some guy where my Dad lived.
Anyway, she and my Mom didn't speak for about 3 years or so, which was kind of weird for me. But oh well, anyway. Eventually they did start to speak to each other again and things were hunky dory. Ok, well excpet for the fact that when that did happen my family completely ignored me and only spoke to her because they loved her soooo much!
So, my sister had a baby 2 years ago. When my niece was only about 4 months old, my sister came to visit. For some reason, nobody cleaned out the guest bedroom so when my sister got to our house she found a surprise on her bed. An entire arsenel of guns (i'm dead serious-- probably about 20 or so shotguns) lined up on the bed. We called our mom at work and said "hey, we have a situation here...sister needs a place to sleep.) Mom says to move the guns to the daybed in her bedroom. So, my sister my husband (who wasnt my husband at the time) and me carry the guns across the house and place them in said daybed.
My stepfather comes home late that night and finds the guns in the daybed. He goes postal. Starts screaming and slamming doors (this isn't unusual for him) not caring that my 4-month old niece is asleep in our tiny little house.
My sister gets pissed and later on I find out that she has said she will never ever bring the baby back to my mom's house to spend the night. and she doesnt.
The end.
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 10:01 AM
Lets make beautiful music
So, thanks to T-bone, my band name (if I ever start one) will be "White Trash Mafia."
Well, I had a dream last night. It was weird. All I'll say is that my husband and I have come up with the name of my first album. Weird Country Carnival.
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 9:11 AM
Good Lord.
I'm waaaayy too happy this morning. Maybe it's the coffee or maybe it's friday or maybe because I'm about to go hommmmmmmmmme. But either way, gather 'round kids, because IT'S STORYTIME!
Ok, so in high school, my family lived directly across the street from the school. Extremely close, too close to really justify driving, though I always drove. So anyway, I ran cross country and we had practice in the morning and used first period to get ready. So, one morning, I decided that I didn't want to wear whatever outfit I brought to school. So my wonderful friend Shannon (who I will be seeing tomorrow) and I drove over to my house so I could change. I put on this dress but couldn't zip it up. So I went downstairs (its early morning still) and my mom came out in her robe. I told her to zip me up. So, we're standing in the entryway and my mom is zipping me and shannon is standing there and my stepfather (he's becoming a mainstay in these bad stories, can't you tell?) comes out. He starts a conversation with Shannon. Well, Stuart( my stepfather) is 6'2. Shannon is a good 5'2. Stuart is wearing these pink bikini briefs (the type you see on strippers) that, shall we say, don't fit. They're too tight. His weenie is all hanging out and bulging and stuff. its gross. They have holes in them. And then he continues to have a conversation with my poor short friend about random crap.
She's embarrased. So am I. When I come home, I inform stuart that he needs to put on clothes when my friends come over because its not approperiate for my stepfather to stand around 1/2 naked and talk to my friends. He gets mad. Says its his house. I say its common courtesy and I live there, too.
He then says "Well you walk around in your towel." Yeah, I walk in my towel when nobody is over and I have to go downstairs to get clean underwear or something. He holds conversations with my friends in his underwear. (You see, fighting with him is like arguring with a 2-year-old.)
So my Mom has to interceed. Nobody is allowed to walk around our house in a state of undress anymore. She has to do so a lot because we argue about everything. My stepfather then becomes known as that horny guy who wears pink underwear in front of my friends.
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 9:06 AM
Thursday, August 07, 2003 Hollywood, here I come! Ohh, baby! Sign me up!
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 3:14 PM
Bad, bad woman!
So these old ladies were berrated in a study of speech when they were younger to see if they would become stutterers. They didn't, by the way. So anyway, now they're suing the people who did this test on them... They said it has left psychological trauma on them that ruined their self esteem.
Now their lawyers have continually declined interview requests with the ladies. wouldn't it be funny if the reporter said during the interview (when the lady made a grammar mistake)
"You stupid old hag! Can't you speak right? What's wrong with you?"
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 8:44 AM
Wednesday, August 06, 2003
Yippee!!!
ok. i just typed in "susan smith" and its also very rare...hmm....i smell something fishy
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 9:26 PM
Call me crazy
I'm watching the "Real Roseanne Show" and she really reminds me of my Mom. Roseanne looks like my mom. (MY mom would kick my butt if she knew I said that.) But its true. They have the same hair, same body style, skin color, hair color, noses....
Even worse? Every time I see tony soprano...I think of my Dad. So, I guess I'm the love child of Tony Soprano and Roseanne.
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 9:21 PM
Won't make new friends because I'm bold... My conversation with newsroom "secretary."
HER: Did I get your insurance information about your car?
ME: (Hides face.) No.
HER: I need it now. So and so in HR is yelling at me.
ME: She has a bad haircut. It's hard to take her serious.
HER: I need it.
ME: You'll get it. Seriously, she needs to calm down. I haven't given it to you in a year, what's one more day?
HER: You can get sent home for not having it.
ME: I need a vacation anyway.
HER: With no pay.
ME: I got overtime last week.
She walks away. I call insurance company. some people have no sense of humor.
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 3:18 PM
i still have my teeth....
On my first (and so far, only) trip to NYC, I got lost on the subway. Where's my fancy hotel?
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 2:40 PM
So tempting...
I've never had much a desire to live in Dallas. Being a Texan, I've never been impressed with dallas, though I know many of my Houston friends make the trek up there to get away from "h-town."
However, when I see a job ad for writers/editor for a weekly that promises salaries between $45-50K, its hard not to send in my resume. Oh gosh, that'd be freaking awesome.
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 12:06 PM
EEWWWIIIEEEE
Don't read the story, just look at the picture and caption.
Note to blonde porn star who wants to be governor: I would NEVER vote for someone who 1. peroxides her hair to look like that on purpose. 2. doesn't realize that her clothes look really bad on her. If you don't have the good judgement to realize your belly is chunky, why would you have enough judgement to run a state?
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 11:18 AM
daddy, I'm coming home
I’m going home this week. This weekend, actually, for a wedding. The wedding will be the third one out of my group of high school friends. The second girl who got married is already getting divorced.
It is always weird to go home, especially when I’ve been gone for so long. Stupid trivial things start to matter—like “Oh, my hair is long now. I wonder if people will like it.” Yes, that stupid. Last year my hair was really short and I got it cut at wal-mart. Everyone hated it. I did it just to prove I wasn’t vain. Now I’m vain and I grew my hair out. I also lost weight. I wonder if I’ve gained any of the weight back. Out of all my friends, I’ve been the heaviest (my friends, combined, weigh about 12 pounds.) so I’ve never ever really wanted to gain weight. I’m calmer. I now take “stress medication.” I wonder if anyone will see a change in attitude.
These things are so trivial and stupid, I know, but I find myself thinking about them when I head back home. These are people who have known me since I was 14, 15—I guess its almost like ‘Look, I didn’t screw myself up. I’m normal!” I’m excited to go back, except for the heat. It’s a good 97 degrees there, compared to 83 here…the heat might scare me off. When I leave, I know I won’t have anything to look forward to. I know I’ll cry when I leave my Dad’s house, I always do. And my husband always comforts me, but I know it makes him uncomfortable because what do you do? We just can’t pack up and leave. Mortgages and a bad economy don’t allow that.
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 9:35 AM
Texas our Texas, oh hail the mighty state
OK, so I grew up in the suburbs. Nothing exciting ever happens there.
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 9:02 AM
Tuesday, August 05, 2003 Yum
Who's in the mood for some fried chicken?
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 3:58 PM
Just a little bragging
I was just looking on the net, and boy, does my husband look like John Mayer. Except my husband is hotter.
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 2:05 PM
Grab your wallets
Cubicle for sale. Fits 1.5 chairs. New carpet. Lamp. Asking price: $140K.
Note: This is a great deal for all you Manhattanites.
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 11:26 AM
Good to know
For my darling 6'4 hubby: You really aren't a freak.
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 10:57 AM
New insult alert!
Girl, you're uglier than a Greek prostitute.
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 10:08 AM
Kids...
Maybe kids these days should wait to dye their hair, put on makeup and attend movie premieres until after all their teeth have fallen out. Right, Jamie Lynn Spears?
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 10:04 AM
I just smile and nod
So this morning, as usual, I'm sitting at my desk, trying to stay awake. I'm not really in the mood to talk to anyone because i'm tired, so I'm trying to be anti-social, yet polite. So, said girl scout camp photographer comes over and asks me if I've written any more of the story. I say "no, I haven't. I'm tired of it and have moved on." I then inform her that I will work on it later.
So she brings up the pictures and says how 3 of the girls aren't in any of the pics. I say 'it happens." I say one of the 3 is in my story. She asks about the other two, I say "not yet." I say "one hated it there and only sad bad things about camp so I really didn't have much to work with."
She says: "Oh, well, we're not putting that in our story."
OUR story? No....it's MY STORY. Those are YOUR PICTURES. Get it? My ass took notes and talked to these kids. I'm the one organizing it and making it sound pretty yet funny. If I think there should be negative stuff in there, there will be. I'm not writing a purposefuly negative story-- I'm writing a true rendetion of their time at camp.
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 9:54 AM
I've been doing it wrong
When I need to recouperate, I take a nap. When (icky) Paris Hilton needs to recouperate, she goes to Europe for a couple of weeks.
Note: I really wish she'd stop saying stupid things so I could stop posting about her.
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 8:57 AM
Monday, August 04, 2003 Okie dokie
Note: the official count is 24--with a double post from Buzz. But, what the heck. I'm not much of an "enforcer" and I believe rules are made to be broken anyway. So, here it is...
Okay, let me first tell you about my family. My parents divorced when I was 10, each remarried within a year. I have been raised as an "only child" since the age of 13. My mom married a pompous ass who likes to sit around the house in his pink bikini briefs. He likes me as long as he doesnt see me. Once he sees me, all bets are off and it usually involves him cussing me out. Okay, so on to the story.
My Mom and stepfather are notoriously horney That's all there is to it. My stepfather used to take naked pictures of my Mom and hang them in his closet. He probably still does. I'm glad I dont live with them anymore. The problem was that they'd make me go into the closet and get something, such as the safe deposit box, which happened to be next to the pictures. So, i had to ban friends from the closet because I didn't want them to see my mom naked.
In high school, one of my friends and I went through this faze where we liked to film ourselves doing stupid things. We'd film ourselves doing the most retarded things, most of them to the Coolio 1..2..3..4 song. So anyway, this friend was coming over to my house after school one day. While waiting for her, I went into my Mom's room and pulled out the tape recorder, figuring I'd hook it up for when she got there.
The tape was jammed in the recorder so I just left it in and plugged it in and went back to my chair to watch whatever was on.
That's when it happened. Instead of Mary and me dancing like Muppets or some dorky family vacation-- I saw a very vile act. It was my Mom and stepfather, and they weren't playing checkers. They were doing "it." It took me a good minute to really realize what exactly I was watching. Then it hit me. It was my Mom, giving HEAD to my stepfather. Then, she looks up and makes eye contact with the camera, therefore, making eye contact with me, her 18-year-old daughter.
It took me awhile before I'd let my mom kiss me again. And no, she doesn't know about it. but thanks for asking.
And just to make it a little more fun, I hit reverse in my scaredness (is that a word?) I then got to see my stepfather, humping my mother, in reverse.
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 9:44 PM
oh boy!
six more to go...I think....till I put up my story that will make you be happy that you're not me....
NOTE: don't post your comment to this one. You need to go and play by the rules and post with everyone else.
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 8:33 PM
Not another darn story
Somewhere under the piles of paper on my desk, I just found yet another Press release. I need a secretary. So, applications are being taken as to why you should work for me.
Wanted:
One secretary. Must be fun. Silly.
Enjoy chocolate chip cookies.
Must not get mad at my disorganizedness.
Must enjoy doing things at the last minute but not be a procrastinator yourself.
Must give good backrubs and tell me that "it's really okay."
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 4:02 PM
You can't handle the truth!
People often ask me how many stories I work on/put out during a week. I keep on having more and more come down on me today.
So far, the amount of stories I KNOW of: 3 due by Wednesday, 1 involves a phone interview, one involves going to a children's hospital (again.) Two more due by Friday. Another "spot" news one due on Wednesday night (basically, it is due while I'm writing it) oh wait, and another due by Wednesday or so-- that involves more interviews than i can fathom.
So, the answer is seven. The majority of them are really interview-heavy or are stuff I haven't started working on yet.
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 3:52 PM
I’ve never considered myself to be a go-getter.
If you met me, you’d probably think I’m just another sloppily dressed twenty-something. I have never been the type of person to want to be the best at anything. I’ve always been content just to do my own thing, though sometimes I reap the consequences of my actions. I was embarrassed to find out I wasn’t even in the top ½ of my high school class, though I had a B GPA. I couldn’t have gotten into any college my freshman year (ok, anything decent) and got stuck at crap school in Colorado.
I have only had a 4.0 once since 8th grade (my junior year of college) and ended up with ulcers from it. My mom told me not to do that again. So when someone left a comment on here that I’ve done so much (really, I haven’t) I’m just surprised. Flattened. Flattered.
I didn’t go to Harvard. My novel isn’t published yet. I feel like I have to constantly prove myself at work. I take medication for “stress.” I’ve been depressed.
But, I’m lucky to have my husband there, always eager to point out the bright side. I graduated from college last August and had bought a $135,000 house by February. I have a good job where I (mostly) like what I do. I finally made a friend here. I will get that novel published. I followed my dreams and left everything behind to move here.
I identify with this John Mayer song:
Everybody is just a stranger but
That's the danger in going my own way
I guess it's the price I have to pay
Still "everything happens for a reason"
Is no reason not to ask myself
If I am living it right
Am I living it right?
Am I living it right?
Why Georgia, why?
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 1:00 PM
Don't make me regret this
Ok, many of you know about my Girl scout story. Well, i just wrote this paragraph and absolutely love it. I'm not sure why. So I'm posting it on here so you can get a taste of my "journalistic" side.
"The week will prove to be a long one for the girls, who are learning for the first time what it’s like to separate themselves from their parents. Their days, filled with endless activities to keep them occupied, leave little time for missing home. At night, when the darkness takes over and the sounds from a symphony of crickets fill the woods, homesickness creeps up on each girl, sometimes filling the night air with wails."
As always, this is copyrighted by me. Don't steal it. Don't go and google this paragraph for the next month and then start calling me at work. And as always, i may regret this later and take it off (or out of fear.)
So, enjoy.
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 12:29 PM
I'm gonna rock and roll all night...
Now, if we could only get Christina Aguilera to wear one of these.
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 11:59 AM
Yet another reason why I hate PETA
Ugg. Stupid. Stupid! Yes, I know you like being a vegetarian. I think if you want to be one, then go ahead. but changing your name? Stupid! I would NEVER change my name to the name of my newspaper. I have my own identity. Not to mention, it might limit my future journalistic exploits if my name is the name of this paper. Besides, they don't pay me enough for that.
Now, I could go on about why I hate PETA so much (namely-- they fund terrorist organizations such as the ALF--which is very, very bad) but I won't. All I will say is this:
If being a vegetarian is so healthy and wonderful-- then why do you have a double chin?
Don't tell me I'm going to rot in hell because I drink milk and get breast cancer because of eggs if you don't want me jumping on your ass about your stupid comments. I can do as I please and so can you. I don't drip a juicy steak in your face so don't tell me I'm getting cancer.
Thank you. This has been a public service announcement brought to you by the Sarcastic Journalist. Please resume your normal viewing program.
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 10:49 AM
Sunday, August 03, 2003 "Glory is fleeting, but obscurity is forever."
Okay. (sighs.) I'm a really bad blogroller. I actually read a lot of blogs (some daily, some weekly, some monthly) that I don't have on here. I'm just too lazy to actually go and say "hi I link to you" or whatever. I know that people read here and for some reason, I'm just interested in seeing who stops by but never says hi.
I know people often ask "sign my guestbook or comments" on other sites, but I think yall should listen to ME! So, why dontcha sign? Mondays are bad enough, brighten my little cubicle dwelling day by telling me hey. I'd appreciate it.
seriously. I'm usually a nice girl, the type of girl you wouldn't mind sitting next to at work. I tell funny stories, make fun of those who need it. If you saw me, I bet money you'd approach and say "do i know you?" Guys do that a lot. Its probably some stupid pick up line, but its hard for me to belive that some guy would pick me up. So I'm just saying that I look friendly and happen to look like your cousin/neighbor/dog/friend/mother, whatever. I decorate my cubicle (yes, I'm THAT PERSON) and don't mind telling embarrassing stories about my life to everyone.
So, as incentive. If I can get AT LEAST 30 people to say "hey" to this post tomorrow, I'll tell a REALLY GOOD story. This one is good. This is the story people say "Oh how are you not totally messed up?" after hearing it.
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 11:04 PM
They conquered el gigante!
We just got back from a mexican restaurant where my husband, his friend and a friend's husband conquered el gigante: a 6 pound burrito. Each.
It was soo gross. They started out greaet but it got to the point (towards the end) where they were all grumpy, bloated and smelly. Chris (the friend) was farting at the table. It was yummy. I'll have to post the pictures soon-- these guys are soo funny. Their bellies were actually full afterwards.
They really didn't like the story of what its like to cleanse your colon for a colonoscopy, though....
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 10:38 PM
Saturday, August 02, 2003 I don't need no stinkin' big weddin'
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 10:23 PM
Things people will do to be on TV
I'm watching this TV show called "The good, the bad and the Ugly" on TLC. These people want to spend 80K on their wedding and this is the catch....they have to pick a wedding planner out of three-- but only one is a "real" wedding planner.
somehow they decide against the "real" planner and choose the "ugly"--- this writer schmuck who has no idea what he is doing. First off, why would you spend 80K on a WEDDING (we spent like 3k or 4K and I thought THAT was a lot) and then pick some loser from a reality show to do it?
I swear, I would NEVER want to be on reality tv. I just wish it would all go away!! I never thought I'd be asking for the return of the sitcom.
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 10:13 PM
Retarded friends
Ok, now about why I think this one friend of my husband is retarded. Ok, so we go to this party thingie last night. His friend had said when he started drinking that "i'll be naked in the pool by midnight" or something. so around midnight i start joking "oh its time for you to get naked, but no full frontal nudity please, thats gross."
so his friend starts asking me questions like "what color are your nipples" and "is it brown or black down there" and of course "tic tacs or silver dollars" referring to my boobs.
at first i was just annoyed, i was playing along a little like i lifted showed my bra and underwear-- NO MORE. i would never show more, i think thats just wrong. well this guy just keeps going at it. when my husband goes to the bathroom hes like "show me your nipples, just show me. i wont tell anyone." and stupid crap like that.
i didnt say anything to my husband at the time because i was tired, but now i'm just mad. this guy is married with two kids. my husband is helping him move his stuff right now. i'm just getting pissed thinking about it and how my husband is helping him right now when last night this nasty dude was harrassing me.
ugg. if i saw him right now i'd smack this guy in the nuts. i'm that mad.
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 6:56 PM
I was driving, 85'ing
CAMP. IS. OVER.
finally. I spent all day there yesterday (again) but got home (ok, I was late) for a party last night. I then woke up this morning and made another 45-minute drive to see the girls arrive and meet their parents. It was stupid.
The girls were so excited to see their parents they ignored us and ran in the car and drove off. Then, one car never showed up. It contained the troop leader and 2 girls. So we sit. And wait. I sit on the ground, read my entire US magazine. People leave. My photographer leaves. I tell a Dad that he could go pick up his wife "It'll only be a few minutes" and that I'd wait for his daughter.
He leaves. Another parent leaves. By now, I've been in this parking lot for over 2 hours. It's humid. I'm tired and forgot to take my "stress medicine." The Dad is gone now for over 30 minutes.
So I get in my truck and say "Ok, I'm just going to turn on my car and get some AC." I tell myself to wait for 10 more minutes. Then I'm telling myself "Its okay, she's with the troop leader. There's still some other parent here. He'll watch her."
And then (this is where I'm horrible)--- I leave. Just find myself driving off, knowing damn well this is not right. I see the Dad's car turning onto the street as I'm turning off of it. I wonder if he sees me. I feel bad, consider turning around and making up some lame ass excuse, but that would be lying. I don't lie.
I keep driving, trying not to get pissed for being there for so long for no reason, trying not to hate myself for just up and leaving.
I'm at home. My husband is gone with a friend, who, might I add, is a big ass pervert. (More on that later.) I'm on the couch, ready to go to bed.
So, goodnight (or afternoon) from the Sarcastic Journalist.
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 2:55 PM
Thursday, July 31, 2003 Beardogg's gotta gun
It's bad enough when people start referring to "celebrities" in the first (nick)name-- such as "Ben and Jen" or "Cam" or "Brit" or whatever. Whoever dubbed the name Bennifer should be shot. My answer to the quiz? "WHO CARES?"
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 12:13 PM
All this camp talk..
...Has made me think of my own summer camp experiences. I grew up going to camp Waluta and then, as an adult, went back as a counselor. Yeah, I didn't stay for the entire time, either, deciding that 118 degree heat indexes with no AC weren't worth it.
So, here's where I stayed as a child. I really miss the daddy lonlegs crawling all over everything. That and the obese lesbian camp director who had hair down to her ass that she never washed. I really miss watching her eat cheese in a can like it's going out of style. I still haven't eaten that stuff after sitting in 100+ heat and watching her really fat ass (in short short short shorts) squeeze can after can of that stuff onto crackers.
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 11:22 AM
The Price Isn't Right, Bob.
I can spend hours at the Find a Grave Website (www.findagrave.com). It's freaking hilarious. Well, I found the FUTURE grave for Bob Barker. (Click on the "see more pictures" link for his marker.)
The funniest part about this are the comments left by people. My personal favorite?
"Bob,you've become a real jerk over the years."
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 10:13 AM
OK, Ok..
I'll admit it. I love those little girl scouts. They're so cute, so sweet, so funny. Not to say they're all "Hey lets bake cookies!" Because they aren't. These little girls have that whole "black woman" attitude going on -- Imagine one going "Oh no you don't" while shaking one finger and moving her head back and forth. It's cute. Super cute, actually.
Well I almost went postal on one little girl last night. They had these balloon thingies from dinner that had a rubber band on the end of it. Anyway, as I have somehow turned into a Junior Counselor during my time there, I ended up holding one girl's balloon. So, I was standing next to this one hickish girl, and I playfully nudged her arm with the balloon. Didn't touch her harder than I would to a baby. Well hickish girl goes postal turns around with her balloon and WHAPS me with it on the neck. She had somehow fashioned the stupid thing into a weapon b/c she had placed a keychain on the end of it. It hurt like hell when the stupid thing hit me. Let a red scratch on my neck.
I immediately grabbed my neck and turned away as I tried to say "shit" as quietly as possible. I then turn and look at the girl and go "What the heck is wrong with you? You need anger management classes!"
She just stared at me. I stared back. I was pissed. The counselor told her she needs to stop hurting people. I storm off before I say something really nasty to the girl.
I was already mad because I had to deal with another retard from a different cabin at dinner. Each night, a different girl is responsible for getting the food and drinks to a table. So I end up pouring all the drinks and say "Hey we need more." the girl just looks at me. I say "Get up, we need more drinks." She says no. I say fine, I'll do it myself and get up (she knows i'm a reporter) and then someone else tells me to sit down and FINALLY the little bitchy girl does it. I already didn't like her because #1 she kept grilling me about my story and #2-- it was "theme night." They were supposed to dress in a global theme. For some reason, everyone's idea of a theme was Hawaiian. Go figure. So the girl (bitchy girl) says "Our theme is American." I say that's nice. She points to her shirt. It says "Princess." She then points to her butt and it says "spoiled."
"See?" She says. "I'm spoiled! I'm an American!" She then proceeds to only talk about money and big houses during dinner, completely ignoring my girls, who-- its pretty obvious, don't live that type of lifestyle. She wouldn't help them, wouldn't help out, and by the end of dinner I found myself telling her to get her little butt up to do her job, which really pissed her off.
Ok, one more story. I say "Oh, I'm ready for dessert!" She looks at me says "Too bad. I'm still eating." I just stare at her. She then says "I know I'm skinny but I can eat a lot." Feeling a little randy by this point, I say "Oh, do you think I'm fat or something?" She just sits there, uncomfortably. 'Oh no, no." She says. "No, you're really skinny! Super skinny! No! I don't think you're fat." Keeps going on and on. Finally I tell her "I'm just kidding. I really don't care what you think about me." She gives me this look and goes back to eating her burger. She doesn't say much for the rest of the meal.
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 9:47 AM
If you need her, she's under her desk.
11-hour work days. I didn't sign up for this. Again, I worked my butt off yesterday and then went up to that girl scout camp, where I ended up staying waaay too late and getting home at about 11pm. Fun times. My brain is fried so I can't even THINK of something funny to say.
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 9:00 AM
Tuesday, July 29, 2003 Where do you go, my lovely?
Seriously, I swear I'm alive. I've been swarmed at work with stories that are all due right now and people keep asking me if they are, which of course they aren't.
I went to a nice press thing for this Titanic exhibit this morning and am proud to say it is actually worth seeing. Now, i'm writing the story which means I have written down my name and number.
Someone called about the teen page and I could hear my boss say he was sending her over to me. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. I don't want to deal with anyone right now, especially in regards to the damn teen page. Also, our newsroom now smells like fish. Why in the hell would someone bring fish for a meal into this newsroom? Don't they know it stinks?
Geesh. It's only Tuesday, people. Only Tuesday.
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 2:10 PM
Monday, July 28, 2003 To agree or not to agree
I'm so glad that my movie reviews never agree with Roger Ebert. His description of the movie "Ravenous?"
"...A cross between a vampire movie and a cannibalism movie."
Um, where are the vampires? Was this dude smoking crack? I'm glad it's not a cross between a vampire CARTOON and a cannibalism book because that would be a boring ass movie.
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 10:00 PM
Where's that darned cell?
Hmm, wonder if anyone lost a cell phone? These are some of the emails in my inbox.
"A cell phone was left in the "ladies" upstairs this morning.
See Sybil at the switchboard if you are missing yours."
"Sybil tells me that she has a cell phone that Helen found this morning in the ladies rest room on the second floor. Please call the switchboard if you think it might belong to you."
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 3:05 PM
I'm gonna party like it's 1999
You know, at least the entire family did it together. Because, you know, as the saying goes, the family that robs banks together stays together, after prison, anyway.
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 2:33 PM
It all makes sense now...
They finally found the third Olsen Twin. I guess that would make her the Olsen Triplet.
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 2:02 PM
Sunday, July 27, 2003 Bushwacker
Ok, I'm back for a moment, I basically worked from like 11am to 10pm so I'm exhausted. Funny story, though. The troop leader tends to pass out from heat exhaustion a lot. Like, she has mini heat strokes, not sure why someone like that would want to teach at an unairconditioned camp, but oh well.
So, we're at the lake, i'm standing in the hot ass sun with all these girls and I turn around and the lady has passed out. so i run down there and move the kids away from her (I went into counselor mode here) and sent them to go sit down. So I walk back to her and she's on the ground in her bathing suit. She's a REALLY BIG lady, too, if you catch my drift.
Well, somehow in her fall, her bathing suit moved and lets just say I could see too much. It was a very good reminder to always trim the downstairs hedge when wearing a bathing suit because that's just nothing other people should have to see.
Oh, but I met some russian counslors (actually ukraine and moldova, but whatever) and they said I was the nicest american they had met (yeah!) and then wanted to know how I could live in the US and still be thin. I've always thought that foreigners would find me fat so that was good to learn otherwise! Woo hoo! Then I explained to them what a super walmart is. It turns out that foreigners are sick of walmart too!
Churned out by Sarcastic Journalist at 10:24 PM
