Deux Losers

The end of Democracy as we know it... LB

2010-09-07T09:21:00.002-04:00

Yesterday morning I was a happy girl, until I read this small article…

http://techcrunch.com/2010/09/03/craigslist-censored-adult-section-comes-down/

Peruse at your leisure, but for the sake of time here’s the synopsis. They want to BAN the erotic ads on Craigslist. Now due to a no fault clause I have with Obama... i'mma have to blame all this on the Republicans.

Let me stand on my political soap box for a few minutes and explain to you how why this is not a good idea..

Hungry kids…

Do you know how many children will go hungry because mommy wasn’t able to promote her “services” and in turn put food on the table? Do we really want Sarah McLoughlin to create an even sadder commercial using hungry looking American kids instead of dogs on death row?

More people in the welfare line…

Mom’s who can’t work, go on welfare. Have you ever been to a Super WalMart on the 1st of the month when the welfare checks clear? It’s a nightmare. But I guess since all republicans shop at Trader Joe’s they wouldn’t know anything about that, now would they?

Drop-outs

Without the avenues previously available to advertise, you’re gonna see a huge drop out in the nursing/medical assistant schools. We need nurses, have you ever stayed long term in a hospital. You never see the doctors! They show up, give you bad news, “examine” you in very private places then bounce. It’s the nurses who actually “nurse” you to health. We desperately need skilled nurses and you obviously know women with their talents have great hand and eye coordination and practically no gag reflex, which comes in handy when dealing with patients who smell bad.

Catholic Church

Yes, I will admit, where’s there’s a “sexual entrepreneur” advertising her “services” online, there is a 80% chance that there’s drugs involved somewhere in that equation. Whether she’s on it, her pimps on it or her clients are frequent users you never know. Could be none, one or all of the above, but think about this, many of the dollars that go into the drug trade are "washed" or laundered through totally legit channels. Unicef, good will, your shady uncle who just showed up with a bunch of presents for Christmas that one year all thanks to your local drug lord. Also, how would the Catholic church survive without the "guilt" offerings/donations they receive from Mexican drug lords each year.

So to my sexual entrepreneurs offering “body on body massages” in the privacy of your rented motel room i.e. “headquarters” raise your head high. To imjustdoingthistillimfamous@verizon.net or Craigslist Reply jnck-99872938@craigslist.org ... I'll miss you. So what a few serial killers came in and messed up the whole gig. I know the erotic section on Craigslist started as a marketplace for freedom. We can’t let them take this site down, doing so means that we let the terrorist win. Just know we’re all out their fighting for your right to live the American dream.

Antoine Dodson... RS

2010-08-23T09:07:00.037-04:00

I'm going to do a little bit a lazy blogging. This is too good not to post.. I have no comments on this other than...

WHAT THE FUCK????????

and don't forget to check out The Remix???????

RS

In My Previous LIfe... RS

2010-08-19T08:51:00.002-04:00

In my previous life I was a professional puppy kicker… Yes, that’s right. You heard me…. A professional puppy kicker!!! I went around kicking the shit out of puppies for a living. Puppies with big brown eyes and sad faces. Puppies that only wanted to be loved and cared for. Puppies that would fetch the paper for you, bring you your slippers and cuddle up close to you at night only asking for food and love in return. And what’s worse… is that I was contracted to do it. I took money for kicking the shit out of these poor defenseless little animals…

I have no evidence to support any of my previous statements with other than my current position in life. Kicking puppies in a former life is the only way I can explain the pure shittiness of my life’s situation as a whole… Damn it… I knew I should have been an exterminator… People hate roaches…

Fuck…

RS

Single-Minded... LB

2010-08-17T13:05:00.003-04:00

It’s no surprise I am single. I manage to mention that fact in almost every blog post. Today is no different. However, what is different is the way I have begun to categorize men in my head.

Yesterday morning, I met a new neighbor in my apt complex. We exchanged quick hellos as we walked to our respective cars. I did not size him up for cuteness, respectfulness, intelligence, etc. I put him into the only two categories that mean anything to me at this moment.

Can lift heavy furniture/Cannot lift heavy furniture.

He not only fit in the “Can lift heavy furniture” category, but as we walked to the parking garage I noticed that he owns a pickup truck.

I don't think this is too soon to say, I think I love him.

LB

Boy meets tampon… LB

2010-08-09T21:31:00.003-04:00

It was 11:00pm on a Saturday night, I was home watching DVR’d shows from HGTV when I decided to take a joy ride out to Walmart for random non-essential items. It was right before midnight, when I spotted this sexy man walking in my direction. It was magical.

1. He was cute
2. He was just as lame as I am, because he’s shopping at Walmart in the middle of the night and it’s not for condoms
3. He actually made eye contact and did not turn in the other direction.

All things considered, I realized, he could be the one! As he walks closer, we exchange more flirty glances. A millisecond later my newly created fantasy slowly began to crumble. We both locked gazes, not at each other, but at the econo-sized box of tampons I was holding in my hand. At that moment, the look on his face changed, as though he was “reassessing” the situation and he walked by me. As I stood there in the feminine hygiene aisle of my local super walmart, at midnight, holding an econo-sized box of tampons watching the man of my dreams push his cart right out of my life, I thought of only one person.

At approximately 12:10am on a Sat night I texted RS one short message. It stated, “I realized tonight, my long standing vow of celibacy is no longer self-imposed”

If my vagina were an ATM giving out million dollar bills, there wouldn’t be a sole person in the world willing to make a withdrawl. I’m not sure when this became true. I’m sure one could approximate a date by simply reading through previous posts on this site.

LB

Island Folks... RS

2010-08-09T12:53:00.002-04:00

I was recently in the Bahamas on vacation. There are few things in life that I enjoy more than heading down there for a week of fun in the sun and relaxation. However, since a majority of my family is from the island it is inevitable that I end up having to spend time helping someone family member or family friend out with something that I would just rather not bother with... but such is life…

About three days in it happened. I was forced to go through the very painful process of helping a 60 year old man load his personal contacts in Google. Now they will automatically be stored for his use from any location around the world and they will easily download into the new cell phone that he has been eyeing for some time now. Hooray for me. I explained to him that it’s safe and easy and now he won't have to worry about losing the giant book of numbers he has been carrying around for over 30 years.

The conversation went as follows…

Me: Don't worry about anything. This is safe. Your info is backed up and if you ever get that phone you won’t have to put each number in. They will just load for you.

Family Friend: But what if I get the phone and later it breaks? Then I will lose everything.

Me: Even if that happens the contact will be saved on the internet so you will still have them on the computer.

Family Friend: But what if the computer breaks? That I will have nothing!

Me: That’s the beauty of this. The info will still be on the internet and you can access it from anywhere. So there is nothing to worry about.

Family Friend: But what if the internet breaks or crashes?

Don’t laugh people! This is a reasonable question for a 60 year old man who has spent most of his life on a small island in the Southern most part of the North Atlantic. However, my daughter, who is an inner city kid with a bad attitude and a quick tongue much like her old man, did not see it this way. She then felt the need to make her own observations on this topic.

Daughter: (while laughing uncontrollably and nearly falling to the floor unable to breathe) The internet isn't going to end. What are you talking about? That doesn’t even make sense. (Continued Laughter)

Crushed, embarrassed and ashamed... my poor old family friend left the room defeated and no longer interested in this new technology or the phone that he had his eye on. It was sad to watch him leave the room in defeat at the hands of a child. I wanted to scold my little girl for her words and her lack of sensitivity... but I was too busy trying to stop myself from laughing…

I aint shit!

RS

Lent is now over… RS

2010-04-05T12:40:00.000-04:00

…And as a result, I can now go back to being an angry, miserable bastard. Many of you who read this blog may recall that I told my mother that I was going to give up acting as such (http://deuxlosers.blogspot.com/2010/02/40-days-of-lent-rs.html)…

We’ll despite the naysayers, I did just that. I was a wonderful man for 40 days….

But now that Lent is over… the first thing I did when I came in this morning is to tell my office counterpart (who wanted to talk about the NCAA Brackets of which I have been out since round one) that I wasn’t in the mood to hear any of his shit! Fuck him…. This verbal lashing was made even better not 15 seconds later when another officemate came and wanted to talk Redskins… I was all over that one… leaving the first guy sad and confused.

While that was minimum… its only noon. There will be more miserable bastardness to come… this is promise!!!

RS

A lesson learned on when to scream! LB

2010-04-02T09:50:00.000-04:00

Spring is in the air, the sun has returned and so have the bugs. Usually any chance encounter with a bug in my apt is met with a myriad of screams, prayers, tears and followed by an minor emotional break down. This is all due to the fact I believe bugs will automatically crawl into your ear and lay eggs in your brain while you sleep.

The breakdowns were all fine when I was the only person living on my floor. But that is no longer the case. My apt is all full and the walls are paper thin. I know this because I literally hear my neighbors breathing, coughing or sneezing. Many times I find myself saying, "God bless you" across the wall.

As a single woman living on her own for the first time, I realized, you don't want to waste your screams.

I was listening to the news this week. Apparently, there's a man in my neighborhood, who likes to break into single women's homes in the middle of the night and fondle himself in front of them. With my luck, he's probably also an avid fan of this blog.

It was then I realized, it's important that my blood curdling screams should be saved for freaks like that. Not for the stink bug that happened to find it's way into my bedroom. The solution is easier said than done. I thought about just covering my mouth, but I don't want the neighbors to get used to my muffled screams, as those are also a cry for help.

I believe I will start singing old negro spirituals to give me the strength to do what I need, to defend my new apt from 6 legged intruders. And I'll save the real screams of fear for the 2 legged ones.

LB

God Looks Out for Babies and Fools... RS

2010-03-30T13:34:00.001-04:00

There is an old cliché that says God takes care of babies and fools. I believe this to be true because this past weekend my little girl turned 10 yrs old. She is my baby… and I am a fool… and God has taken care of us both.

Have you ever had one of those moments as a child where you looked at your parents and just wondered how and why they were granted the right to be parents? My daughter has one of those moments every time she’s in the same room as me.

Flash back eight years or so. My family was slated to arrive in town. I forgot to set my alarm clock. Shit! Now I’m running late to pick them up from the airport… Now I have to hurry to get me and my kid ready.

OK, how am I going to do this? Well, I guess I should just get myself ready while she is still asleep, then get her ready when I am done. Or, I could wake her up, get her cleaned and dressed and then let her eat while I’m getting ready. Or, I could get ready and just pick her up and put her in the car asleep. Or, I could put her in the bathtub and let her play in the water while I wash up in the other bathroom. Or I could just leave her here with my roommate and his girlfriend. The possibilities were endless. Sensory overload set in.

After sitting there for 20 minutes deciding how I should handle the situation, I realized that I had in fact just wasted 20 minutes. I sat there for another five minutes stressing out about how I had just wasted 20. After reconsidering all my options one last time, I finally made a decision: get her washed, give her something to eat and then you get ready.

I hastily picked her up from her crib.

In case you don’t have children you might not know: you should never hastily pick up an 18-month old. It’s just stupid. Picking her up so quickly startled and woke her.

But being awake wasn’t a problem. Her screaming because I’m a dumbass was. I tossed her on the bed and took her clothes off, amidst her cries and pleas for help. I figured once she was in the tub shit would be cool. Kids love the bathtub. They can slosh water around, they can play in the bubbles, and they can eat soap. The tub was the answer.

At that moment the worst thing that could have possibly happened did happen. I had a great idea.

I’m not going to put my 18-month old in the bath tub. That would take too much time. I’m going to give her a shower.

Yes, the shower. This is going to be great. I’m going to save time, and everything is going to work out for the best. My mind was racing at 100 mph as I took handfuls of water from the shower and dumped it on her to get her wet. Never mind that now the bathroom floor is soaked. It’s cool because this is all part of my plan.

It gets worse. Implementation of the next stage of my master plan... putting soap all over her. Let’s step back for a minute, and take a good look at what is actually taking place. A naked, freezing, screaming 18-month old girl in the middle of a bathroom; her idiot father sitting on the soaked bathroom floor, in his boxers, lathering her up with Dial Body Wash.

It gets worse still. After feverishly lathering up my offspring, I put the finale part of my masterpiece to work. I got up off the soaking wet floor, picked up my soapy, slippery angel, turned on the shower and shoved into the path of the water. She screamed like there was no tomorrow. Figuring the water to be too hot, I turned up the cold water and shoved her back in the H2O’s violent path.

The screaming continued, but I figured it was cool. I had about half the soap off her at this point, so I was confident that she was going to make it thought the ordeal. The only problem was that I really couldn’t rotate her 180 degrees, without actually getting halfway in the shower myself. I was kind of leaning and twisting and turning, but I was just missing too many spots.

By this point I was so wrapped up in plan execution I had forgotten her screams. I now had one leg in the shower, and was trying my hardest to get the last of the soap off -- while she kicked and yelled and spit water at me. I just didn’t know why. The water was nice and warm.

Hearing the screams for help… my roommates girlfriend came to assist me… She walked in and there she saw… a naked, soapy, dripping 18-month old held captive in a stream of rapidly moving water. Her father standing there in soaked boxer shorts, with one leg on a slippery floor, and the other off-balance in the shower…

“What the fuck are you doing,” she asked. Rightly so I think.

People should have to pass a test to have children… I’m unfit to be a father even now… but I continue to try my very hardest…

Happy Birthday Baby Girl…

RS

The new microwave... LB

2010-03-26T10:25:00.000-04:00

On Monday the microwave at my office died. And I being the least senior person in my office with a corporate card was tasked to purchase a new one.

As I looked at the old microwave so unceremoniously removed from it's perch atop the kitchenette, I couldn't help but to reminisce. I had a lot of memories with that microwave. Like how it always smelled like bacon from when I made my morning and usually afternoon bacon snacks. The rest of the office complained, but I never understood how someone could not love having the sweet smell of bacon welcome you everytime you open the microwave door.

I also remember the day I set a small to moderate fire inside of it. Good thing our smoke alarms don't work! BTW... my fire had nothing to do with the untimely demise of the microwave. I set that fire a year ago The blackened ceiling of the microwave served as a cautious reminder that metal thermouses do not belong in the microwave. All in all, it was a good friend that served our office well.

Before you go... can we take a moment of silence for a fallen camrad.

Key to looking important at the office... LB

2010-03-24T11:55:00.001-04:00

Hello Readers

If you have ever watched Seinfeld, one of funniest episodes was when George explained how looking annoyed all day at work made him appear busy to all his fellow coworkers.

I thought it was ingenius, so I decided to take my own spin on it and share two very important tips that have carried me far into life... and high up that corporate ladder of lower middle of nowhere management

Part 1 - Keep your desk an unorganized mess

I can find stuff in that heap of garbage I call my office desk, but others, not-so-much! This is good because it prevents people from rummaging around and finding stuff like drafts of my posts for this blog. But also, when people see stacks of papers, all around you, they assume it's because you have a lot to do. When in actuality, I just save everything in a misguded attempt to CYA... I've become one of those horders on A&E.

Part 2 - Make em wait....

This also happened by accident. Typically people come by my office and ask me for help. Usually I am more than willing to oblige but I never simply get up right then to assist them. Why? Well usually because I keep my pants unbuttoned for maximum comfort at the office and standing up would not be a good idea. This also means I have to be UBER vigilant about open zippers when walking down the hall, but you know what. It's a small price to pay. My coworkers, think the delay is because I'm finishing up some important report, perhaps synthesizing a plan for world peace. Who knows, but it works like a charm. Sometimes, while they wait, they may figure out a solution, and leave me free to continue doing whatever non-work related activity I was doing before they interrupted me.

Readers, take these tips to heart and maybe, just maybe, it will land you the promotion you've been dreaming of.

LB

Ordering for One... LB

2010-03-22T11:32:00.002-04:00

I discovered this little Italian sandwich place down the street from me. It’s in walking distance, so I’ll often head down on foot. It’s my way of earning my calories while also discovering more about my new neighborhood. Whenever I’m there I often get a lot of food. Mainly because I’m too lazy to cook and need enough to last me a couple days, and also, because I am greedy.

I don’t want to be that girl who lives alone and orders copious amounts of food. Even if I am that girl who lives alone and orders copious amounts of food. So I make up an imaginary person that I’m also ordering for when I get to register. A typical order will go something like this.

Hi, I’ll take a order of X and a side of Y …. And oh yea… I'll also need to order a large Z as well… for my friend... Yes! My friend will also need a two liter of ginger ale as well. (I really do use those exact words!)

Now I’m at the register thinking I’m a genius mastermind. They’ll never know it’s all for me. But the guy at the register sees through my geniusly crafted façade and will ask if my “friend” needs extra cheese or a particular condiment. The sarcasm drips from his mouth like the grease from whatever I've just ordered. I’ll simply reply, “no” and grab my large bag in shame and rush out the door, usually with a fry or two already in my mouth.

Keep in mind, I do this EVERYTIME I go there. Even though they know there’s no one else eating the food. I feel like I’ve started something and now I have to see it through.

LB

Georgetown Hoyas and DC Sports... RS

2010-03-19T11:40:00.000-04:00

I try my best not to take my personal feelings about things and put them on this blog… But today I will do just that….

Just look at this picture!!! Its says it all...

Fuck Washington DC sports!!! The Redskins go 4-12 this year including a lose to the Detriot Lions who until that point had not won a game since Christ was crucified… the Capitals get up 3-2 on the Penguins in Hockey on to lose 4-3 while the Pens go on to win the Stanly Cup… The Hoyas kill Duke, Villanova, Syracuse, UConn and make it to the final off the Big East Tournament only to get blasted in the first round by Ohio University, a team that me and four of my co workers could bean 4 out of 5 times.

I’m a Redskins season ticket holder… I’m selling every ticket next season b/c we just picked up Larry Johnson who’s got more miles on him than my old Chevy Blazer and Rex Grossman who has vagina (no offence to any of my readers who actually have vaginas).

I’m a pseudo Georgetown season ticket holder in that I’ve got the hook up to go to pretty much any game I want to go to at any time during the season. I won’t be partaking in that hook up next year as I’m boycotting that shit because Gtown is bunch of Choke Artist. Fuck Georgetown!

The Nationals (who sometimes forget to put the “O” in their name, fools) signed the greatest rookie pitcher in the last 50 yrs and paid him $15Million even though to date he has done nothing yet. He will fail miserably this I promise you. Why? Because he’s here in DC and DC sports are trash! Fuck!!!

All of these fools have been letting me down since I was 12 years old ( the last Redskins Superbowl victory). I give up on all of them… until next season when I promise you the Redskins will be 14-2 and win the Superbowl and the Hoyas finish 27-3, win the Big East and then the National Championship. You heard it here first people! Write it down! 2011 is DC’s year!

And stop sending me hateful emails and text about the Hoya’s losing yesterday. I get it you bastards! I saw the game!

Holistic Health... RS

2010-03-17T11:24:00.003-04:00

Warning… this is not my normal funny type of blog about how my life is a disaster... Well I guess it kind of is…

I hope this comes off right and for the first time in my life I don’t mean to offend… Well, yes I do…

Although I don't love my job... my company is very good. Every week they host some kind of Holistic Life seminar to promote life balance. They encourage employees to attend as many of these as possible and all but mandate that we attend one per qtr. I think that's great. This might be the first company I’ve worked for that gave a damn about its people. I've been here six months and yesterday I went to my second seminar. It was on “Eating Right for your Body Type”. I'm into health and fitness so that was right up my alley...

So I walk in... and it’s me and two white guys (I’m a Black Male if this is your first time reading this blog)... and every black/overweight female administrative assistant in the company. Now I have no issues with Black women specifically and I have no issue with overweight people. Many of you who know me know that I myself used to be overweight. But I can’t stand Black people when they embarrass me in public by virtue of simply being "Black"...

These women talked through the whole presentation and had an adverse comment about everything the poor presenter had to say... "Oh black people don't do this and we don't do that... We don't eat like that... we don't cook like that... we can’t workout like that… it’s not in our culture, etc…" On and on for the entire hour!

Meanwhile back at the ranch... the poor woman giving the presentation IS A BLACK WOMAN!!!! I could not get out of there fast enough. It was killing me having to sit there and listen to excuse after excuse for not trying to better yourself. I spent most of the time thinking to myself… Why the hell did you even come here today anyway? To waste this poor woman’s time? To kill and hour of work? Clearly it wasn’t to better yourself.

When I left I wanted to stop and apologize to the speaker for my people’s behavior... but then I remembered... I'm a Dark Indian named Tonto Jenkins who makes war clubs and spear.... so I simply walked out of the room in shame...

Am I out of line people? Am I asking too much? Am I missing something there. Let me know. I’d love to get some feedback. I promise to be funny again in my next blog…

Avoidance.... RS

2010-03-16T08:28:00.001-04:00

For the last two business days I have managed to duck my boss entirely.... Good days for me. However this morning.... when I got on the elevator... there that mother fucker was.... Goddamnit!!!!!

Him: "RS, I haven't seen you in days. Have you been avoiding me?"

Me: "Yes, yes I have actually."

Awakware silence. Doors open. I walk out and never looked back....

I will get fired today...
RS

Not as good as I used to be.... LB

2010-03-10T11:46:00.000-05:00

I become more and more like my mother with each passing day. One painfully obvious moment was just last week.

Before we go there we must take a small trip down memory lane.

Picture it:
Christmas 1991, I had just gotten the Super Nintendo game system and my mother had challenged me to a game of super mario kart. I was killing her! Slaughtering her! It was glorious! After a thorough beating my mother puts down her controller and says. "You may have me in this, but I am the queen of jacks" She them pulls out this dusty squede pouch from the kitchen (I always wondered what was in that thing) and began to challenge me in a game as old as the sweet saviour himself. I said "You can't compare JACKS to the superior gaming experience that is Super NES."

Fast forward to last week...
I was on the phone with a dear friend and had expressed my desire to get a PS3 (that is Play Station for those non gamers) instead of a blue ray player. My friend replied something to the effect that I shouldn't bother because I suck at video games. I replied, "Suck as video games, my Tetris scores are off the richter" My friend pretty much shut down that conversation by saying "I don't believe you just used your Tetris scores to prove your need for a PS3." (those may not have been the exact words but that was the gist. Actually the real gist is that I am a loser... hence the need for this blog.

I might as well throw out the old Birth Control packs and start pushin out babies, cause when it comes to video I'm on straight mom status!

Darn shame really.

LB

"Who are you?" "I'm Batman..." RS

2010-03-08T10:59:00.001-05:00

Yesterday I went to the barber shop to get my hair cut. This is not a process that I typically take any joy in at all. I hate waiting in line. I hate listening to all of the hip hop gossip that I have little or no interest in. “When is Lil Way gonna go to jail?” I don’t care. “When is so and so gonna drop their new album?” I don’t care!! The only thing I do enjoy about its is during football season when I get to talk shit about how my Redskins will crush whoever they are playing. I do on Saturdays during the season because if I went on Sunday I would simply get made fun of because my team in counterfeit. But I digress…

I tried to pay as little attention as possible as I sat there listening to Meet the Press on my Ipod. There are just more important things going on in the world than whether or not the neighbors know Trey Songz name or not. But just when I think this is just going to be another day at the shop… it happens…

Batman walks up in that mother fucker… Yes, Batman… The Caped Crusader…

By that I mean some fool walked in with an actual Utility Belt!!! Four, maybe five cell phones all in belt holders hanging from this guys belt. At least two regular pagers clipped to that very same belt. And old school Time Port 2 Way Pager that dropped out of rap videos back in 2001 (I got rid of mine last summer but to my credit it hasn’t been activated since 2004). This man also had a Swiss Army Knife or a utility tool of some kinds that I can’t even begin to fully describe and what seemed to be some kind of a nail filing set complete with mirror. There was so much technology hanging from his waist that he has to have testicular cancer from all of the radio waves by now if he didn’t already have it already.

While all of that was disturbing and made him look rather foolish it was the grappling hook that really took the cake. This dude actually had a grappling hook hanging from his belt. Who the hell has a grappling hook hook? I sold mine back in 2007 and replaced it with pair of suction cups.

I swear this fool all but kicked in the door to the shop like somebody's hero and stood there in the door with his hands on his hips staring all of us down like we where the Joker, the Riddler and Two Face. He looked like a circus clown standing there with his belt lighting up like Marry Go Round and his knives and self propulsion devices shimmering in the light.

Now, I’m not one to make fun of people as I myself am a complete and total disaster… but who the hell is this guy and why isn’t is possible for him to just give out one phone number? Maybe I’m seeing this the wrong way. Can I get some help from the congregation?

The Painfully Obvious… RS

2010-03-03T22:10:00.001-05:00

This blog is going to be horrible… but I’m putting it out there anyway…

In this current economy I am certainly just as happy as the next guy to have a job. Unemployment is nearly 10% and I’m the first one to admit that I’m no one special. I could be gone tomorrow and no one would even notice. I mean the last thing I want is to see my little girl wearing tattered and torn up clothing while standing in line at the soup kitchen because Daddy ain’t shit.

But just because I’m thankful to have my job doesn’t mean that I like this shit so I’m always on the lookout for something new. Yesterday morning I got reacquainted with an old associate who works in Human Resources for a company that I would have some interest in if given the opportunity. The best part is that this individual reached out to me… That’s always a plus!

I told him what I do, what my strengths are, what I like to do and what I think I think I would be best at. I even explained to him the facets of my current job that make me unhappy.

After a 30 minute conversation, this fool came back with… “Well the first thing you need to do is updated your resume…”

SLAM ON THE BREAKS!!!!! THROW THAT SHIT IN REVERSE!!!!! BACK THE FUCK UP!!!!!

After thirty minutes of conversation this clown comes back with updated your resume! He has not even seen my resume yet and he suggests that I need to update it already… which means one thing to me… This fool is a talking head with simple talking points. He probably wasn’t even listening to me. And what’s worst? That was pretty much the end of the conversation. He didn’t have much more for me. Why did you even bother to reach out to me with that shit?

While it may make since that my resume may need tweaking for certain jobs… how stupid is that response really? If you are looking for a job of course you need to update your resume. How about some suggestion on how? How about a few suggestions on what I might need to focus on and who I might want to talk to… No…? That all you got man? Nothing more?

That got me thinking about other painfully obvious stupid shit idiots could say to you in your time of need. Below I have compiled a small list.

Statement: I’m fat and sloppy. Help!

Response: Hmmm… Maybe you should workout…

Rebuttal: Great!!! How about a workout plan? Maybe show me a thing or two in the gym? No…? That’s cool. I’ll just workout. I’ll be over at the bench press trying to hurt myself if you need me.

Statement: I’m in middle of the desert and I’m dying of heat exhaustion and starvation. Help!

Response: Hmmmm… You should probably try to cool off and get something to eat and drink.

Rebuttal: Great!!!! Perhaps your dumb ass could point me to a cactus to suck water from or perhaps a recently dead camel that I could tear the flesh from and eat while sucking the humps dry… Seen any trees I could stand under for shade? No…? Oh don’t worry about then. I’ll just hold my hand over my face and drink my own sweat. After that I’ll eat one of my own fingers.

Statement: Hey, I’m drowning over here. Help…

Response: Hmmmm… Maybe you should get out of the water.

Rebuttal: Good call dick! Any idea of how I might do that seeing as how I’m fucking drowning over here. Maybe you could toss me a life preserver or even a tree branch. No…? Ok, no big deal then. I’ll just try to get out of this water that I’m drowning in. While I do that could you please grab my towel? No…? Don’t worry about it then.

Statement: Yo, I’m trapped underneath of this car.

Response: Wow. You should probably try to get from underneath of that thing. Man that shit looks heavy.

Rebuttal: Good idea. I think I’ll try to get from underneath of this car…

Now you know that last rebuttal was as fuckin stupid as the response. So my question is when you tell me to update my resume what should my response actually be?

Response: Ahhh… Good idea. I will update it. I will change the date ahhhh…..

I’m reminded of a scene in John Milton’s Paradise Lost. In the opening sceen Satan is trapped in the fires of Hell for 10,000 years after being defeated by God. He cries out to his right hand man (whose name I forget) that he wants out. To which his friend replies “We’ll let’s get outta here.” Then they get up and leave. You mean after 10,000 years you didn’t think to just try to get up and bounce?

Foolishness!!!!

Am I being too obtuse here people? Please let me know. Drop me some comments. Maybe I’m out of line but isn’t all that shit painfully obvious?

Please pass the tissues... LB

2010-03-03T09:26:00.000-05:00

There's nothing like being a woman. You know like having the ability to pee standing up. Market value salaries. The ability to lift heavy objects without the fear of breaking a nail or the ability to grow facial hair without judgement. OH WAIT... That's men... yea being a girl sucks!

With the amount of estrogen seething through my pores it causes issues - to say the least! The worst occasion happened to be when I cried while driving home from work at a Wachovia radio commercial for identity theft. For some reason knowing that Wachovia had my back if I were to become a victim was too much for my heart to handle.

Yesterday afternoon, I come home and as usual immediately turn the tv on. I happen to stumbled upon a jif peanut butter commercial and by the end I could feel the tears welling up. I have included the commercial because I want you to see how much this is NOT a tear jerker. Yet for some reason, my body rebels against my brain and I can feel the tears welling up.

But the worst commercial and the one I personally think has ruined Sarah Mclachlan career is her animal cruelty commercial. Whenever her song "Angel" comes on all I can see and hear are abused dogs. If I see the commercial come on I turn the channel and never come back. Simply, because I know I'll be seeing abused dogs for the entire show. I officially HATE that song and that commercial. But of course I've included it for your viewing pleasure.

And just as an FYI.... Estrogen has also ruined the following for me...

Annual Dog Show
Almost every episode of Grey's Anatomy
ET - which I still refuse to see it because I know I will cryThat insurance commercial where people do nice things for each other.

But I'm hoping I'm not alone in this... I realize most of what I write on this blog is never read, but for the 3-4 die hard fans who read this blog on a semi-regular basis... Write in and share the commercials and movies or whatever that have ruined your life.

LB

LB's housekeeping tip #001

2010-02-28T13:05:00.002-05:00

Have guests coming unexpectedly? Here's what I do to create a great inviting smell to welcome people as they come to visit.

Forget candles, infusers or incense. Head for the fridge and cook some bacon! It works as a snack to help you keep up your energy as you entertain your guests and nothing is more inviting than the smell of fresh cooked bacon.

HGTV ain't got nothing on me!
LB

Playing Hard to Get... LB

2010-02-23T10:53:00.000-05:00

To best understand this post, you will need to read yesterday's. Here's the link

So it turns out that things are not always as they seem. Funny enough, the man who sexyily (is that a word?) threw my heavy box into the car was in fact my new neighbor. HE LIED. HE LIED not only to me, but TO MY MOMMA!!!!!!!!!!!! OMG… WTF… and a few other acronyms I can’t think of right now.

OK highly attractive man who lives right down the hall from me. How would you think that I wouldn’t figure out! You live right down the hall from me. WTF!
I just got rejected and HARD! REAL HARD! I realize that I only look like Halle Berry when the room is highly shaded, but still. Lying sir… only makes me want you harder!
This is real folks, cue Hi-Five song. “He’s playing hard to get, he’s playing… but he likes me… he likes me!”

Special Addendum:
I told my mother that there was a man who moved into the apt down the hall. She suggested I bring him pie, but left some important words for me as well. She said, “LB, before you bring the pie, make sure to shave your face!” Good lookin’ out mom. She always has my back!

LB

New Neighbor... LB

2010-02-22T11:55:00.000-05:00

Currently, in my lovely apt building I am the only tenant on my floor. But just yesterday, there were movers bring stuff into an apt down the hall from me.

There were two men dressed in movers gear while a third much more attractive man oversaw the work. As I walked past him to take out my trash he kindly greeted me.

I took a quick assessment. No ring, attractive, nice build, can obviously afford movers and polite. SCORE! I threw out my trash and hightailed it back to my apt, for some personal renovations! I quickly did my hair, threw on some make-up and smothered myself in scented lotion.

When my mother came by the apartment later on that day she also noticed the cute new neighbor and true to form had already chatted him up before she even got to my door.

The minute she came into my place she said, "I saw your new neighbor he's cute!" I answered very nonchalantly, "Yea, I think I said hello to him earlier"

As my mother and I left my apt we took with us a large box that required both of us to carry. Without missing a beat my mother, sees the new neighborman and exclaims, "You're a big strong man, why don't you help me and my daughter carry this to our truck."

The man took that big box with one hand and tossed it on his shoulders. I was so turned on, I wanted to hump his leg right there in the hallway!

As he loads the box effortlessly into the trunk my mother asks, are you the one moving into the apartment. He answers, "No Ma'am"

"No Ma'am!" In just that instant the look on both our faces change. We ignored him for the rest of the afternoon. The disappointment hung thick in the air. Worst part, what moved in was some chick with a yappy dog I wanna kick in the throat everytime I see it.

LB
PS... I hope my new neighbor never reads this post!

40 Days of Lent... RS

2010-02-19T08:30:00.000-05:00

I grew up Catholic although I'm not really practicing anymore. During Lent Catholics famously give up something special or important to them for a 40 day time period which I believe symbolizes the 40 days Jesus spent in the desert when he was tempted by Satan.

While on the phone with my mother on Fat Tuesday (the day before Lent starts) she asked me what I was giving up for Lent. At that point I told her that I have decided to give up being an miserable, angry human being...

Silence... before bellowing laughter....

"You can't make it one day without being angry about something or angry at someone. We both know that."

I have no idea what that woman said the rest of the conversation because she could barely compose herself.

Thanks for being supportive of me Mom...

RS

From the mouths of babes... LB

2010-02-18T08:30:00.000-05:00

My friends kids call me Uncle Leslie. I do not bother to correct them.
Children are honest and they call it as they see it.

LB

Smells like what.... LB

2010-02-17T09:32:00.000-05:00

I suffer from chronic foot in mouth syndrome.

One oarticularly gruesome flare up was during a funeral. The service was over and everyone was leaving the cemetery. I was in the car with the family, crackin jokes attempting to make everyone laugh. I had everyone in the car laughing hysterically at what... I don't remember. But then the foot in mouth syndrome hit.

It was summer, so the car windows were down and what wafted in was one of the worst odors I've ever had to smell. The first words out of my mouth were... wait for it... "UGH! It smells like dead people in here." Everyone just stopped for a second. I was honestly contemplating jumping out the car window at the next light.

The rest of the ride home was completely silent.

Foot in Mouth 1286 / LB 0

LB

Lil Wayne on Line 1... RS

2010-02-16T09:40:00.002-05:00

With the exception of me, my office team is fairly homogenous. I’m pretty much the only dark spot up in this building. Having worked in Corporate America for the better part of the last decade this is nothing to new to me and I’m really not bothered by it. I don’t even notice it anymore… until some bullshit happens.

So last Friday a girl on my team who is of the Caucasian persuasion wanted to exchange cell phone numbers because we had a big project due on Monday. It seemed as if some weekend work was going to have to be done in order to finish the project, hence the exchange of the digits. No problem. She gave me her number and told me to call her right there so she would have mine... I did... And instead of a regular ring I heard… wait for it… Lil Wayne… bumping through the phone speakers. She didn't hit the end button.... She just let it play.... I could see her thought process unfolding in her head....

"RS will think I'm hip and see that I have street cred. He will recognize my gangsta and invite me into the black realm…"

She stood there looking at me as if she was waiting for me to start bobbing my head and maybe dropped a few bars of my gangsta freestyle on her ass (or lack thereof). I gave her none of it. I didn’t even acknowledge that the song was playing. I simply asked… “you got it?” She acknowledged and walked away seemingly dejected.

The really sad part about all this is that I never questioned her gangster. Sever months back she successfully taught our boss to do the Stanky Leg in the hallway… far better than I could have (see previous blog http://deuxlosers.blogspot.com/2009/11/office-dancing.html).

My life is a dumpster fire…

Singles Awareness Day ... LB

2010-02-15T09:23:00.000-05:00

I just wanted to start by saying I do not recognize the holiday you call Valentines Day. What I do recognize is its sister holiday, Singles Awareness Day (SAD). I haven't actually recognized the holiday since 2nd grade.

Let me give you a run down of my V-Day experiences (there’s only 3)

2nd Grade
I was just a wee lass then, happily exchanging assorted valentines cards with candies stuck inside. When one little boy came up to me and said happy Valentine's Day and tried to come in for a kiss. I said "Ewww! You can't kiss me, you smell like cheese crackers"

Sidebar... He really did and I really do hate the smell of cheese crackers. You know the ones. They are Orange and have peanut butter in them. UGH GROSS!

Apparently, this really hurt his feelings and I was forced to stand in the corner and apologize. I do not see the justice in that. I was simply defending my right to not get cooties from a boy who smelled like cheesecrackers.

Additional Sidebar... I spent a LOT of time in that corner staring at the chipping of the paint on the walls.

Update on cheesecracker boy: I ran into his mother a little while ago and she told me ever since that incident he made her put cologne in his bath water. He is happily married now with a couple of kids. (He can thank me for that!)

First Boyfriend
I've actually never had an official Valentine. Never seemed to stay in a relationship long enough to experience it. (Don't cry for me Argentina) The closest I've ever come is with my very first boyfriend. We actually met after V-Day. We were on the phone and he was eating chocolates. Apparently, his V-Day had not gone so well. And as he sat on the phone eating the V-Day chocolates, meant for someone else, he said to me. If I had known you on V-Day, these would have been for you. He then proceeded to polish off the whole box during the rest of our phone conversation.

That moment was prob the single most romantic experience I had ever had.

Currently

I spend most Single Awareness Days with Ben and Jerry and a good movie (or whatever I've DVR'd over the past week.) This year was no different. As I sat on my living room furniture… i.e lawnchair (the doll furniture is on back order) catching up on old episodes of Modern Family and Burn Notice I realized, even if I was in a relationship the only thing that would change would be that the number of lawnchairs sitting in my living room eating Ben & Jerry's would increase by one.

I Hate Valentines Day... RS

2010-02-14T21:42:00.005-05:00

First of all, FUCK Valentine's Day!!!

That being said, last year I decided to spend a few hundred bucks of my hard earned cash to try to show my girlfriend a good Valentine’s Day Weekend.

I decided on shopping and dinner in Georgetown. Best combination of both on planet Earth if you ask me. We got dressed up and hit M St. like we had money to burn. We were in and out of shops and boutiques all afternoon before having a nice dinner at a great restaurant in the city.

After all of that I did my best to keep her away from her cell phone because the last thing I needed was one of her friends calling her to tell her how great their man had treated them. If that happens you spend the rest of the night getting compared to some fool you don’t even know. With that done… I had made it through another V Day.

But wait, you knew that wouldn’t be the end. The next morning she told me that she had a surprise for me. Wow. This is an interesting turn of events. I certainly didn’t see this coming, but I liked the sound of it.

When we got in the car I finally gave in and asked where we were going and what her surprise was. I didn’t expect her to tell me but I decided that I would play along. This would prove to be a costly mistake.

"We are going to Couples Therapy...." she said.... "I think it’s long over due..."

HIT THE BREAKS.... STOP.... BACK THE FUCK UP...!!!! WHAT??????

What the fuck did you just say??? We are going where and doing what? For a brief moment it was as if the world around me had actually stopped moving. The cars around us froze. Birds stopped flying in mid air. The wind ever stopped blowing. It actually stopped blowing! I could feel the anger starting to bubble up inside of me. It wasn’t a slow burn either. It was almost instantaneously a raging forest fire from Hell. Within seconds I had already started plotting ways to kill this woman slowly. Slow was key! It was important that she have time to suffer adequately and gain a through understanding of how treachery and dishonesty do not go unpunished.

Are you kidding me...? After two days and nearly $300 of my hard earned cash this chick dreams up the absolutely ridiculous notion that it would be a good idea to pull me into couple’s therapy, thus implying that I have problems that need to be solved!!! Is she nuts....? Does she have any idea of what I'm capable of? Does she even know who she’s dating? Where did this courage and desire to die a slow, painful death come from? Was she looking to become some sort of mythological martyr for women across the globe on Valentine’s Day?

I was steaming on the inside. I tried to appear as if I was all in favor of this therapy thing but I was failing miserably. I could feel me face getting red with anger and hatred. I looked down my fist were balled up, my knuckles where completely white. I had even accidentally dug my nails into the palms of my hands. I was trapped and there was no place for me to go. My only option was to jump out of the car and tried to kill myself. But then she would not receive the suffering she was due.

We stopped at a stop light that seemed to stay red for hours. Sitting in silence I stared at her with malice. I could tell she wasn’t feeling so good about her plan anymore. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead and her hands were shaking. This brought quite a bit of joy to me and for a brief moment softened my rage. She realized that this was the worst idea since Eve bit the apple. It had dawned on her that this could very well be the end of her. After what seemed like hours, the light finally turned green.

We pull into the parking lot after a 15 minute drive having said practically nothing the entire time. My mind had switched gears from bringing an end to this woman’s life to how to make this therapy session a positive for me. It came to me quickly. I thought about all the shit she does that I hate and why. My new plan was to walk in and blast the therapist with this information first! I would make this session about her issues and not mine. Striking first was key. Anger seethed off of me. I got out of the car and followed the little lamb to slaughter.

We got to the front desk and the receptionist handed me a clip board to fill out some personal information. Good Lord. Not only do I have to spill the intimate details of my relationship to a stranger but first I have to write all the shit on a piece of paper to be put in some filing cabinet. More anger… more seething…

I started filling out the form but the questions seemed rather odd. How stressful is your job? How physical is your profession? You often do you exercise? Where do you hold the stress in your body? This shit wasn’t making any sense to me... until I looked at the top of the form and read the letter head. It was then that I realized that my evil girlfriend had brought me to... Massage Envy... for Couples MASSAGE Therapy....

Fuck.... She got me. And what’s worst was she knew she got me. She knew I was furious and just sat there and let it ride. I can’t believe I fell for that shit. I guess I got what I deserved.

Fuck Valentine’s Day and everything it stands for.

I hate my new apt... LB

2010-02-11T11:31:00.000-05:00

I really hate my apartment!

On the real folks... moving is for the birds. The next time I decide to move from one apt to the next I am going to burn everything I own and start from scratch. Taking with me only my purses and shoes and assorted lip glosses as I have an addiction to them all.

I signed the lease on what is the 2nd smallest apt in Philadelphia, PA. On the surface it looks nice, but when you actually spend more than 2 minutes inside you see the dream slowly unravel. I should have known things weren't right, the day I recieved the keys. As that was the day I learned I had NO WATER. (that was only AFTER a trip to the bathroom) Oh yea, and none of my appliances work.

See, what had happened was. I rented the model apartment. So it included a few more bells and whistles than the other units. But like most models, it was all a front. None of the existing appliances were hooked up to plumbing or even plugged in. I also had doors that didn't open, because this apartment was never intended to be lived in. That was until they sold it to me!

But I can't blame them, I used the same rationale to rent this apartment as I do for clothing and shoes. Can I fit in it? Most importantly, does it look good? Perhaps next time I will come up with a different set of criteria.

This picture is a clear and precise depiction of how big my place is. My apt is the small little room on the side where the little pink arrow is pointing to and that llittle girl, represents God having a good laugh at me.

Lets start with my kitchen

My fridge: I've seen coolers with no ice in the middle of a july cookout keep food cooler than this thing. My freezer only keeps meats, vegetables and icecream cool - NOT FROZEN! My freezer smells like the meat section of one of the questionable markets in bad neighborhoods. Whenever you open the freezer it actually smells like warm meat.

Moving onto the living room

The problem is not the size of my living room.
(pictured to the left.)
I have attempted TWICE to have furniture delivered to my apt. Both attempts failed miserably. Mainly because my apt is not life sized. Two adults could not fit inside the same room of my apt comfortably. (unless they were naked and had planned on rubbing against each other with every move they make)

The problem is this. Please refer to picture below. Don't let this picture fool you it is very inaccurate. The blue arrow depicts my front door which could be no wider than about a foot. The second red arrow is the entry way into my kitchen which is actually NARROWER than the front door. The angle makes it look quite opposite. Due to the space - most couches need to come through both entry ways in order to pivot into the living room but when you have Alice in wonderland sized doors. It makes that impossible.

Considering my current dilemma, I found a solution... doll furniture! I saw this finely crafted doll furniture online. It's longest piece is about 6 inches long, and I think, with good spacial planning I can work it out. I found this lovely set below for only $45.95 plus shipping and handling. The couch length is equivalent to half a $5 footlong subway sandwich. I really think it's a steal! I also heard pottery barn kids is having a sale on bean bag chairs.

Currently this is the only piece of REAL SIZED living room furniture I own... This lawnchair is the bomb. I'm considering just buying a few more of these. It's like being at an outdoor concert... everyday!

All in all, I cry every night, because I live in a sham of a apartment. Month after month I pay for appliances that don't work. A flat screen I will never be able to truly enjoy because I have no furniture to watch it on and my security alarm goes off in the middle of the night for no reason. Causing me to wake up ready to kill only to find it was a false alarm.

Who would have guessed... LB

2010-02-03T22:09:00.000-05:00

I bought a new wireless router for the apartment. The first one was a dud. Thanks Walmart!
I repurchased the same router from Best Buy. Lo and Behold... it was working a lot better than first. It was still not functioning but at least the lights turned on for this one.

So I call my friendly international technical assistance. Yes this man was definitely Indian. A lot of people have very strong opinions about overseas customer service agents. But I will say this for the record. I believe that India is the SMARTEST nation in the world. I do not know how anything I own would function if there wasn't some sweet knowledgeable techincal assistant rep to make it work after I broke it. But I digress.

I thought I was going to have to replace the second router after it too failed to function. But turns out, I had changed the name of the network to something that was not compatible. Apparently, NO DIGGITY NO DOUBT, is not a suitable name for the router. Although I feel he is grately mistaken!
What even worse is when you have to spell out that name to the internation customer service agent. N-as-in-Nancy O-as-in-Oh maybe-I-shouldn't-have-named-it-this. As is is extremely hard to keep a straight professional tone over the phone when you're laughing at having the customer service agent repeat back your stupid network title.

LB

Independent Woman…

2010-02-02T09:06:00.002-05:00

Many of you may be wondering… where’s LB been.

The answer is… in apartment hell.

I am for the first time living independently no parents, no roommate just me! Now that we've got the good stuff out the way, lets bring our attention back to the oh so many things that go wrong. Today's story is about my first big purchase for the place... My new bed frame.

Yea that's the bed alright... It's a lot more comfortable than it looks!

My bed is wonderful, a comfortable, cozy hideaway retreat as I call it. But me and the bed were not always on such loving terms. I purchased this bed from … and don’t judge me… IKEA! I have a love/hate relationship with that store. But I went against all good sense and bought the bed. The instructions CLEARLY stated, two people are required to complete the construction of this purchase. I did not belive them, but I should have. Even getting the pieces out of the box were difficult. But none the less I had perceivered. After 8 hours (the box called for 2hr assembly with two people) I was finished. I simply fell back on the bed arms up in a sense of triumph and female empowerment. (cue: Independent woman song playing in my head) When All of a sudden I heard a crack, followed by a snap, and about 3-4 pops and I was suddenly on the floor. The bed had crumbled underneath me. I wanted to cry. Instead I kicked the bed and jammed my toe. Then I cried! (cue: Whitney Houstons - Why Does it Hurt So Bad)

The next day I got all Bob Villa on it and installed steel beams underneath the bottom of the bed for added support. Yeah, that’s right! I did it! (cue: Independent woman song once again playing in my head) I promise you it’s been the best sleep I’ve had ever since.

Take that IKEA. (Mind you, with my “added improvements” I have voided the warranty so this thing better last me 5 years or I’m screwed. So actually, now that I think about it… IKEA just got me…. AGAIN!) Damn the Swiss!

Corporate Lunch... RS

2010-01-31T21:25:00.000-05:00

I’m still fairly new at my job. I like the people, I like the positions and I like the location. But the way that my team is set up is rather strange and for the most part we almost never see each other. In fact at our staff meeting last week I actually met two people on my team who I didn’t even know existed. So in an attempt to do a little team building I decided to invite my team out to lunch this past Thursday.

This brilliant idea hit me early in the day and I sent out an email to all six members of my team including my boss asking them if they all wanted to get together. That was at 8am. At 9am I had received no responses… At 10am I had received nothing… As in zero out of six response. At 11am, not a goddamn thing.

Finally at 12:30 I gave up the ghost and decided just to run out and get something myself. I grabbed my suit jacket, put on my top coat and headed for the exit. I got to the elevator, pushed the button and waited for it to come… Then the doors opened…

I stood awestruck and sickened as, standing before me, was my whole team… all six of these mother fuckers coming from lunch together. They all had bags of half eaten subway sandwich and half drunken cups of soda or juice… And as they got off of the elevator all six of these assholes tried to act like they didn’t see my ass standing there. They all just kinda looked at the floor as they walked out and turned the corner back towards the offices.

“I’m right here you fuckin assholes!!!!! I’m right here!!!!! I invited all of you all to lunch and you went without me” I thought to myself.

Sad, sickened and disgusted, I got on the elevator and went to lunch alone. The whole time I was eating I just knew that when I got back I was going to have at least a few emails telling me that they would be happy to go to lunch and that I should meet them at subway… When I got back, nothing. Not one damn email…

I CAN’T PAY A MOTHER FUCKER TO GO TO LUNCH WITH ME AT WORK……………

Insomnia... RS

2010-01-24T12:01:00.009-05:00

Unfortunately for me I have battled with insomnia for the better part of the last 10 years. If you have the grave misfortune of dealing with such a plight then I greive for you because dealing with it has been the bane of my existance. I can only speculate as to how and why it began but the reasoning behind it is simply irrelevant. The painful experince is far more importnat than the reasoning...

Insomnia is a cyclical experince, meaning that when that mother fucker shows up it hangs around for a few weeks... maybe a few months and then leaves only to return to fight anonther day. I'm currently in one of those horrible cycles and I'm catching about 2-3 hours of sleep a night.

Recently, in an attmpt to battle this horrid demond I turned to the mythical treatment of... Counting sheep. Yes.... I tried couting sheep. Lots of sheep...

I sat in a field alone in an old wooden rocking chair slowly rocking back and forth and stroking my beard. One after another the little white sheep slowly trootted in front of me before leaping into the air over a low wooden fence. Their agility was quite shocking to tell you the truth and the process of couting them was actually somewhat soothing at first.   I was quickly lulled into a sense of peace and sleepiness...

Hours later and nearly 4,500 sheep counted, I found myself still wide awake and far more angry and frustrated than I was when I started counting.

4497, 4498, 4499... and after that I could take no more. The 4500th sheep move quickly toward the fence. I leand forward in my chair. As it approcached the fence for its ballet like leap... I struck... Like hungry lion rushing atelope I charged... As the sheeps hoved feet left the ground I aslo leaped in the air chatching him in stride and driving him into the groud like Ray Lewis snatching some fool running back out of the air as he tried to dive for the end zone.

Despite catching him completely off gaurd the sheep was suprisingly quick and agile. He was back up to his feet in no time. I barrell rolled over and qucikly jumped up to my feet.  But before I could steady myself the sheep caught me with a sharp right hoof to my left eye. I stumbled back a step or two to regain focus. It was then that I realized he was standing vertically on his back legs with his two front hooves held up in boxer like fashion. I was stunned. He caught with me another short right and a left cross before I could defend myself. He clearly saw my confusion. It made no sense to me that I had just gotten punched in the face by a sheep and he was taking advantage of my awestrucked stature. That alone was enough for him to get in a few good shots before I could counter.

His hooves where lightning quick and right away I knew I was out matched in the standing game. My only hope was to untilize my wrestling background and take this sheep to the ground. As he drew back to throw another hoof I changed levels and dropped down to his legs. I hooked both my arms around the back of his cavles and drove upward lifting him into the air before driving him into the ground with a text book double leg takedown. Once he hit the grass I qucikly I attacked him with vicious ground and pound. I reigned down elbows and forearms on his snout. With him on his back he was clearly out of his element. I dominated him on the ground as he worked to scramble from underneath of me. My overconfidence in this position however got the best of me when I went for a choke hold.   The slickness of his coat mixed wit the morning due of the meadow made it difficult for me to get a firm grip on him and he rolled out of my grasp and jumped back up to his feet. This sheep was experienced.

As he rose I rushed him again. He set up quickly and was ready to throw another punch. However, I could see the disorientation in his eyes. My guess is that he never fought a wrestler before and had never spent any time on his back.  Clearly he wanted no part of my ground game. I knew he was more confident standing so I had to play this one smart. I engageded him quickly looking to lockup with him. I figured I could out muscle him. Speed and agility were on his side but I knew it was unlikely that he spent any time in the weight room. I intentionally telegraphed my forward movement trying to goat him (or should I say sheep him) into throwing an ill advised punch. He did. As I moved forward he set up to drop me with a powerful right cross. I changed levels again to avoid the strike. His hoof flew over my head and as I came back up I saw my opening. I slid a half step to my left creating enough space for me to deleiver a killer left hook. He never saw it coming. I caught him flush behind the ear. He was out as soon as I connected.  A splilt second later he was on the ground laying face down in the soft meadow.

I jumped up and raised my hands in victory like I had just knocked out Rampage Jackson. The championship was mine.... But then I made a few horrible realizations...

1. The sheep that I just knocked out was getting some sleep right now. The whole purpose of this exercise in couting sheep was for ME to get some sleep. Now I'm standing in some field in some unknown location having just battled a sheep... and I'm still awake...

But perhaps more importantly...

2. I'm all by myself standing in this field in some unknown location surrounded by 4,499 angry sheep hell bent on getting some revenge for their fallen brother...

I turned to them... balled up my fist... and got ready. These sheep are going down! There would be no sleep that night...

RS

"If it doesn't kill you..." RS

2010-01-13T12:36:00.004-05:00

I am not one who condones violence (for the most part anyway) but let me say this…. The next person who tells me “If it doesn’t kill you it will make you stronger” is going to get beaten with a baseball bat without any evidence of mercy or remorse for an extended period of time. And after the aforementioned savage beating has been administered I am going to stand over them and wait for an hour before asking them how they feel. My guess is that they will in fact feel weaker than they did an hour before despite the fact that the beating did not kill them. To test my theory I will then drop a large filing cabinet on top of them to see if they can move it. If they cannot we will put this foolish saying to bed.

RS

Tastes like what! LB

2010-01-12T12:12:00.001-05:00

I was at the local Cinnabun (conducting some research on cinnamon and it's varied uses) and while at the register (merely, getting some background information from the cashier) I heard two men in back of me talking about Cinnabun.

Apparently, the one man had never tasted a Cinnabun before (of course, neither had I. As I don't eat carbs anymore.)

So he asked, "What's the big deal, what do they taste like?" His friend replied, "They taste like Jesus."

The answer borderlining on both sacrilege and cannibalism was still quite possibly the best description I had ever heard. After that, how can you NOT buy one - so I did. (Strictly for research purposes!)

LB

QVC.. LB

2010-01-12T12:12:00.000-05:00

I am no longer a QVC virgin.

I was flipping through the channels when I just happened to stumble upon a the greatest channel EVER!

What made me stop in my tracks was something so amazing, so cool, so awesome and fantastic that I will actually get around to telling you now. It was a Brita. But not your run of the mill Brita you find at your local grocer or CVS. This Brita had a filter that screwed in, unlike it's predecessors. (demarking it's upgraded coolness) It also has an electronic alert that tells you when it's time to change your filter.

I've included a small Brita commercial for you viewing pleasure.

BUT let me tell you what made me even consider it, in the first place. They poured GREEN water into the filter and out came the clearest water I'd ever seen not on a postcard. Out from that filter fell DIAMONDS I tell you. I'd never seen clearer water as I did that evening while viewing on my (circa 1996) 13inch non-HD TV/VCR combo.

And the clincher. I was ready... ready to make the jump. But something was holding me back. Yea that's right... they JUST added in another filter! A thirty dollar value for FREE! What! But it still wasn't enough. I still couldn't bring myself to purchase ... until... I saw the small timer at the bottom of my screen. It said I had 1:51 seconds to make a decision. With just 45 seconds to go, I was on the phone.

Turns out calling is a hassle. I was just put on hold FOREVER, so I hung up but I got the same on-air deal online because I ordered it while it was still on air.

So in 6-8 weeks I'll be getting the worlds foremost, top-of-the-line portable home water filtration system, delivered straight to my door.

LB

The Lawn Mower Man... RS

2010-01-10T12:28:00.003-05:00

There are idiots running around all over the place. These morons walk around freely without fear of consequence. They prey on those of us with some level of intelligence and poison us with their idiocy. They have no shame and will go out of their way to ensure their mindless rants of foolishness are noticed by all. If only there was some way to avoid them entirely. Alas, we normal, sane individuals are left with no way of telling them apart from others. That is of course, until they open their mouths.

Once upon a time, I lived in a pretty decent neighborhood, in a pretty decent house previously occupied by my grandmother in Columbus Ohio. My family owned the house so I was paying cheap rent. I was pretty happy with the situation. It was an older neighborhood with a ton of retireers with nothing to do, other than sit around and wait for the grass to grow, so they could cut it.

Unfortunately for me, I had not yet reached that point in my life. I was back and forth to work five days a week, traveling like a mad man and trying to unwind on weekends. Too often, I never got around to mowing my lawn. It was huge and often took over an hour. Yeah, I had a mower and I was more than physically capable of doing it myself, but why?

Being lazy as hell, I looked into a few landscaping companies. One of my aunts had found a guy before. He actually did the lawn on my house, after my grandmother moved out, and before I moved in. So adding the place back into his rotation would be relatively easy, I figured. Plus the guy had been mowing it for a few years. He charged me $35 each time; a little steeper than I wanted to pay, but you can’t really put a price tag on your time, effort and energies can you?

After a few weeks with the lawnmower man -- paying him $35 per week -- my mathematical reasoning kicked in. I was paying this guy $140 a month for no reason at all. I knew it was time to stop being lazy, but something in me just wouldn’t let me make that leap.

Nonetheless, I finally called him up and told him not to come by. Going forward, I would have him do it every other week. This well-conceived plan saved $70 a month, and still keep me from having to mow my own lawn. Brians over brawn, I like to call it.

Two weeks pass. Since my neighbor was retired, and mowed his grass seemingly every single day, mine was looking pretty bad. So I gave the old lawnmower man a call. He called me back a day later, to schedule a time the following day and this is were the idiot within him came out, in full effect. The charge would be $70 he told me. What the hell? Now I’m no Einstein and I’m certainly no calculus major, but I thought the charge was $35 per cut.

The conversation with this jackass went like so...

Me: “Why is it going to cost $70 this week? You didn’t mow it last week and I’m all caught up with my payments.”

Moron: “Because there is two weeks’ growth on it?”

Me: “What?!!!!!!?”

Moron: “Well it is twice as long, and will take me longer so I have to charge more.”

Wait a minute.... You have to be kidding me, right? Who does this guy think he is, and more importantly, who does he think he is dealing with?

Me: “Are you kidding? You have an industrial riding mower and you don't bag the grass clippings. It will take you the same amount of time as every other time you mow it.”

Moron: “But there is two weeks growth on it. It will take more time.”

OK. This conversation is not going the way I want. Talking to someone who must believe that I am stupid is frustrating. I decided to use his stupidity against him.

Me: “So how much do you charge each time you do it?”

Idiot: “$35”

Me: “So if you are only mowing it one time this week, I don't understand how you think I would owe you $70.”

Idiot: “Well, I did it two weeks ago and there is now two weeks of growth on it.”

If this guy says “two weeks of growth” one more time I’m going to lose my mind. This has to be the worst negotiation offence I have ever heard in my life. Sorry buddy, you’re not getting over on me today.

Me: “I understand that. So then, are you saying that if I wait 3 weeks it will be $105? Does the cost just grow with the time and the grass?”

Jackass: Silence

Me: Four weeks means $140? That way you’re sure that you always get the same amount of money each month right?

Idiot: More silence.

Me: Hello...?

Dummy: “There would be more growth on it.”

Oh my God in heaven. How the hell has this guy made it this far in life?

Me: “You know what? I think I'm going to start doing it myself, since I don't understand your rates.”

Moron: “OK, I'll cut you a break on Friday and do it for $35. How about that?”

What a deal. I just negotiated this idiot down to his normal rate.

Me: “No thanks. I know that my math isn’t the greatest, but yours just lost you an account.”

Then I hung up on his stupid ass. The next day, I was mowing my own lawn in 95 degree heat. I guess that’s what I get. But at least I still have my $70. Two weeks of growth, huh? I don’t understand stupid people. I really don’t.

RS

4:50am.... RS

2010-01-06T08:33:00.000-05:00

At 4:50am one morning I awoke to the sounds of someone knocking shit over in my living room. No way in hell that could possibly be happening, I thought, rolling back over.

At 4:52am I heard the same sounds again. Only this time it was much louder. And now I was wide awake and 100% sure someone other than me was in my house. The adrenaline overwhelmed me.

I sat up in bed with a big-ass smile and thought to myself “Hell yeah!” It’s about time! I’m about to fuck someone up!"

I had been waiting for years to have the opportunity to deliver the equivalent level of physical pain and suffering to someone that I had experience mentally and emotionally during the last thirty years. If you’ve read a single story on this blog up to this point I’m sure you understand why the prospect of taking someone out might seem delightful to me. Now was the time to put a stop to someone’s ability to walk upright and breathe. Some fool burglar picked the wrong house to fuck with and now a steep price would be paid.

I grabbed the tomahawk from under my bed. Yes, I have a tomahawk under my bed. Why you might ask? For times just like this! That’s why.

I slowly opened my bedroom door, and tip-toed down the hall. I heard the noise again, and realized what it actually was. There was no one inside of my home but rather someone outside of it. Someone was beating on my door. Disappointment shot through my body as I realized I would not be able to just run into the living room and detach their head from their body with my handcrafted Instrument of Mayhem. Who the hell would be beating on my door at 4:53 am? Doesn’t matter. This is the last door that they will ever knock on again…

I walked to the front door; my lethal weapon of doom in-hand. I yanked the door open; tomahawk concealed behind my back but still ready to strike.

Much to my surprise... it was the police...

Fuck!!!!

My tomahawk and jaw both hit the floor at the same time. My mind was working at 100 mph. I wasn’t ascertaining why the police were visiting this early in the morning. I was trying to figure out why the chance to bludgeon the skull of some poor unsuspecting burglar had just been stolen from me by Johnny Law. And why was he shining that flashlight in my face? Perhaps if I was to kill this dude, I would be justified and exonerated. Madness by light blindness seemed like a reasonable defence?

"Sir, your car alarm has been going off for over an hour, and the neighbors called us."

My car alarm is going off? Just then I realized that my car alarm was in fact going off. I don’t know how I missed the loud sound. Perhaps because I was too busy getting ready to commit murder, and call it self defense.

Long story short... something had tripped the alarm in the middle of the night (probably a stupid squirrel, or some such thing). After turning off the alarm and watching the cops climb in their car and drive away I picked up my tomahawk and walked sullen back to my bedroom, without having collected my kill.

God spends whole days laughing at me. Of this I am certain…

RS

Reflections on 2009... Part Deux

2009-12-31T20:17:00.000-05:00

Before you read this... If you haven't yet... Please read Reflections on 2009... Part One
http://deuxlosers.blogspot.com/2009/12/reflections-on-2009-part-one.html

Now that you're all caught up... Here's part deux

Just a recap from the last post... I'M A JERK!

Just today, I was helping my mother assemble a tv stand. Now I've expertly assembled my entire first apartment. (Does anyone else hate using that S shaped tool IKEA gives you to assemble all their furniture. Couldn't imagine being a dude, wanting to feel manly and being reduced to cranking your whole project together. Leave it to the Swiss to find yet again another way to immasculate the American man. Might as well include skinny leg jeans in each box just for S's & G's)

Moving forward...
When the whole frame was put together and we were ready to stand it upright, the frame was wobbly at best. We spent 20 mins trying to fix it. Try as I may, I could not get the stand to become sturdy. I rescrewed everything in as directed. Still wobbly and practically falling apart, I gave up and began to diassemble the stand. It was at that point I figured out what happened. I was turning the screws in the wrong direction the whole time. (In my defense, it was a dimly lit room and thier arrows weren't very visible.)

We had already had the whole thing practically back in the box by the time I had figured it out and I didn't have the guts to tell my mother of the mistake. So instead, I chose to let her go on for about 30 minutes how she would never buy furniture from this maker ever again. And tomorrow, I'm sure she will head back into Lowe's and demand a refund for the chinsy piece of furniture they sold her. And I will stand right next to her in the customer service line, even more indignant and outraged that they could pass off crap like that to their customers.

Ah well... Better luck next time!

LB

Reflections on 2009... Part One

2009-12-31T19:40:00.004-05:00

It is only a few hours until 2009 is officially over. Thus I have taken some time to really reflect on my life. With all its ups and downs... One thing remains constant. I AM A JERK! This is going to be a long post, so I'm splitting it into two.

Part One.... This happened a little while ago but the shame is still pretty fresh.

A dear friend of mine asked me to put together a small dinner for his birthday. Which I gladly accepted. So the night before I stayed up, dutifully dipping long stemmed strawberries in chocolate. After which I wrapped each one in it's own cute little wrapper as a small party favor to each dinner guest.

I brought the coveted tray of delights to my office knowing that I would have to bring them straight to the party afterwards. I put them in the work refrigerator with a note that said "DO NOT TOUCH"

Right before the end of the work day, I went to retrieve the berries only to see that 3 were missing. I was distraught to say the least. I had worked so hard on each one, and now 3 people would not be able to have their own party favor thus ruining my plans for the party.

I promptly tell my boss about the theft and she in an act of kindness and wrath of which I'd never seen, sent out a SCATHING email to the ENTIRE company. [sidenote, we had a long history of people stealing food from the office refrigerator, but this set my poor boss over the top.] This email, in the most professional manner I'd ever seen, ripped the whole company a new one and promised that if the culprit came forward they would be spared their lives. (but perhaps nothing less)

The President of the company gave me $20 of his own dollars to offset the costs of the missing berries (which I was begrudingly forced to take) while everyone else came by and gave thier comments/theories on who they thought took the berries.

I left the office defeated, my party plans laid in ruins but I still had to pull myself together and make it work.

While driving to the restuarant to set up for the party. My roommate calls me to wish me luck on everything and says, "Oh by the way, I saw you left 3 of your strawberries here in the fridge. Don't worry, I didn't eat them so they'll be here when you get home."

I almost pulled my car into oncoming traffic.

I never told anyone at the office about the mixup. I just continued to further destroy the company morale by letting them believe they had thieves among them. I'm sure people at that office still speak of the story as though it was something of folk lore or an old wives tale. They pass down the story in new hire orientation to warn about the dangers of bringing your lunch to work and the poor girl who paid dearly for her mistake.

-LB

I'm turning in to RS.... LB

2009-12-23T10:36:00.001-05:00

OK...

I just want to preface this by stating that I am in fact going to seriously repent for the pain and suffering I cause to others. I'd like to attribute this behavior to prolonged exposure to RS.

Sometimes when my boss starts to get on my nerves, I like to get "even". I do this by toying with what no one ever should - a woman's quintessential need to not look fat/over eat in public. Now my boss is a beautiful person on the inside and out, but as with every employer/employee relationship it sometimes can be strained.

I will burn for this...

Example #1
We were at a holiday luncheon not too long ago. At the luncheon I kept remarking how good the pasta was and how I was so excited to order it. Now I knew coming in I was skipping the bread bowl and getting a salad for lunch. But my enthusiam caused my boss to stop her dieting you know... "for the holidays" and get a decadent dish as well.

She ordered first.... the decadent pasta dish. I was the last to order, so of course I get the garden salad with vinaigrette hold the croutons! She gave me this "What Happened?" look. I told her I was saving it for dessert. So once again the dessert menu comes and I plot on the most decadent chocolate cake, with chocolate mousse layers and of course TWO scoops of icecream ala cart. My boss lets down her guard and orders a slice of cheese cake.

When the waiter gets to me I order the seasonal berries with a small dollup of whipped cream... on the side.

Example #2
Fast forward to this morning. I was an hour late for work. So I decided to smooth things over by stopping by the nearest dunkin doughnuts. I called the boss from the road and asked her what she was wanted. She said if you're going to treat yourself, why not. I'll have a sausage croissant sandwich.

I ordered myself a bagel AND a low fat muffin. I ate the bagel in the car. I then brought in my boss' hot, greasy, calorie-laden breakfast sandwich and the low fat muffin to the office. My boss was more than happy to start tearing into her breakfast. After about 2 or three bites she asks me if I am going to eat my low fat muffin. I take one small bite declare it's not good and that I can't spare the calories anyway. I then toss the whole thing into the trash. After seeing the look on her face I knew it was the best 1.79 I've ever spent.

Regretfully - LB

Riding in Silence... RS

2009-12-17T13:46:00.000-05:00

OK… let me set this up…

I usually don’t bother to play the radio in my car anymore. Most of the today’s music doesn’t interest me and despite being under 30 years old I’d much rather listen to Blues music that was written 30 years before I was born. So the radio in my car is usually turned to the station I used to play my ipod.

So last night my office had our office Xmas Party. It was about 15 miles from the office to the location and several people were going to car pool. I offered to drive so that I was sure that I could leave when I was ready to go. One of my officemates asked if he could grab a ride with me to the party. I gladly said yes. I don’t know him that well but he was in the lobby looking for a ride and I’m the new guy and could stand to make a few friends here at the job.

We got in the car and I fired it up. Inside there was only silence as I had not yet plug in my ipod. About 5 minutes into the ride he jokingly asked me if I always ride in silence. I could not help but take advantage of the situation…

“Yes”, I responded. “It gives me time to reflect upon all of the evil I’ve done in my life…”

No words were spoken the rest of the trip. He road back to the office with someone else…

-RS

A public service announcement: Coppin that new ish...

2009-12-17T10:21:00.000-05:00

We've all had times when we've been "Ahead of the curve" whether it be a new artist, a fashion trend, etc. But when you become one of those people who pride themselves on having stuff before everyone else. It begins to bother me... a lot!

I. Being a fan of an artist (music) before everyone else...

How many times have I heard this (or said this) "Oh I was a fan long before they got famous." WHO CARES! The only thing that afforded you was the opportunity to pay less money to see them perform live. So what... you got the luxury of paying the $5 cover fee at your favorite dive bar vs. $50 nose bleed stadium seat 3 years later when their work actually mattered. Most likely they just had the chance to polish up their live performances on you before taking the good show on the road. It's like saying you had a chance to see the original Destiny's Child perform at a mall in Pensauken, NJ before they dropped their first single. You gets NO points for that. Nor do you get points for having sex with a super star BEFORE they became a super star. That means you just gave it up for free.

II. Coppin that ish... before anyone else .... (music)
OK... so somebody decided to leak you a track or a whole CD. Now what? Let me tell you why this annoys me to no end.

1. Half the time it's sooo illegal you can't even people you got it. Your like one of 20 people they leaked the music too, so when the bootlegs come out, guess who's door their knockin on!

2a. Scenario #1 - Your in the car with a friend, listening to your extra advanced yet to be released CD. Next thing you know you get to your favorite track. But your friend has no idea about this song and is not nearly as excited as you are about it. Which kinda brings down the excitement level when your hype and the person across from you is giving you the blank stare

2b. Scenario #2 - Fast forward to a few weeks/months later when the song is released. You and friend are in the car. Your friend ... hears the same track you were diggin like 3 months ago and is like THIS IS MY SONG! But you're OVER it... WHY... cause you been bangin that ish for months already. You even tried to get your friend into it as well but they weren't havin it. Now you're fighting cause you want to change the station and your friend wants to bang out to THEIR song!

III. Coppin that ish before anyone else ... fashion....
Now I get it.. the idea of being an individual and having an individual style that represents you. But on the real, folks are takin this too seriously... "I had those Gucci shoes before anyone else." GOOD FOR YOU! So now your the first one I can officially say was stupid for rockin that look in the first place. Like whoever decided it was cool for men to layer 2 fitted polo shirts and pop both collars. If that is your claim to fame... kill yourself!

This is your public service announcement for the day. I know it may seem harsh... but it had to be said!

LB

Merry CHRISTmas! LB

2009-12-15T13:53:00.001-05:00

My office informed me this week that it is my job to decorate the office. Just as an FYI... I know I'm a girl... and I know I also overuse the terms fabulous and fierce but, I. Do. Not. Decorate!

I decided to make it so that I would never be chosen to decorate again. This image which btw is my new desktop pic (Sorry hang in there cat!) was the impetus to my design theme.

While trolling through various Christian bookstores, craft stores and my basement I stumbled on some great things.

Along with the bows and wreaths I also included... a 8'x6' nativity cutout.... Bought 2 to drape both walls of the hallway. (you need two... having one is like a great a great HD tv with no sound system)

Sprinkled among the "Holiday Cheer" messages, pics of snowflakes, reindeer, and fat men draped in crushed velvet suits I snuck in this jem...Here's the cover to a special set of disposable table cloths, napkins and cups in the lunchroom.

I found this while rummaging through my own things. I am really tempted to suggest this as a topper to the Christmas tree. It's actually a scanned copied of a self-published pamphlet entitled... Jesus was a colored. Print Date circa 1930

I also found red paint on sale. I was tempted to paint a Red X on my door with a sign that said

"The Angel of Death is not welcome here! (i.e. Management)

I'm pretty sure that they are going to revoke my corporate Amex card.

No Sick Days for Me... RS

2009-12-15T09:30:00.004-05:00

I may have mentioned before that I used to work for a company that I just couldn’t stand and I worked with people that for the most part I hated. Today however, I’m lucky enough to have a job I can stomach while working with people that I actually like. This fact was made evident to me this past week while I was dying of the worst cold that I’ve had in nearly 30 yrs of life. It was so bad in fact that for the first time in ages I actually had to take a few sick days and stay home (although they made my take my laptop with me and I actually spent most of my sick time running reports and calling in for conference calls… but I digress….).

Anyway, the fact that I was home sick made me realize how much I really do like the people that I currently work with… because there is NO WAY IN HELL that I would have ever take a sick day at my last job. NO WAY IN HELL. I would not have given them that kind of respect. Instead, I would have drug my sick ass out of bed, un-showered, unshaven, and unhealthy, wearing the most raggedy gear I owned just so I could spread the sickness!!! I would have walked in sniffling and coughing while using my hands to rub my nose. Then, only after sneezing all over my hands as many time as possible would I have gone on a handshaking expedition all through the office (for those of you who follow this blog regularly, you can rest assured that the first stop would have been the Cyclopes’ office and given his blind ass a bear hug http://deuxlosers.blogspot.com/2009/11/cyclopes-and-can-of-fruit-cocktail-rs_1143.html). Watching my colleges fall ill with similar symptoms over the next few days brought me a certain joy that I cannot describe to you in mere words… Oh the joy…

But, here at the new spot… no need for that as I am surrounded by wonderful people who have mutual respect and admiration for each other. So I spared them the plight of sickness that others in my past may have deserved. However, I did consider heading over to my old office, walking in and exchanging greetings… FUCKERS…

-RS

Holla at me about Church on Sunday.... RS

2009-12-13T22:50:00.001-05:00

Since we have started this blog many of our readers have suggested that we (specifically me) would probably be doing ourselves and the rest of the worlds a huge service by attending a church service of some kind. Perhaps Jesus could save me from the sickness that is inside of my head and heart....(although it has already been establised in a previous blog that that my in fact not be the case... http://deuxlosers.blogspot.com/2009/11/can-jesus-really-save-me.html )

But it is probably true that it would not be a bad idea to at least give it a try....

So one of our very dear readers who is also a very dear friend of mine actually invited me to attend church with her. I thought that was a very nice gesture and decided that I would take her up on her offer and try to change my life for the better. However, in the midst of the evil, gloom, doom and despair that consistently runs around in my head and heart I new that I would forget about her kind gesture. So I asked my dear friend to remind me the day prior to this evangelical outing. And she did... via... TWITTER...

Huh??? She did what?

For normal people that may have worked... but here is the funny thing about that... She has my number... my email and even knows where I live... But rather than use any of these normal means by which to contact me... she chose to TWITTER me...

That's right... She didn't call... She didn't send an email.... She didn't even Facebook me (is that how you say that??? I have not idea). She has never twittered me before in our lives and suddenly that was the way to get up with me...

Let me explain this.... You see... MY SALVATION IS ON THE LINE AND THIS CHICK CHOOSE TO DEPEND ON TWITTER TO SAVE ME FROM THE FIRES OF HELL.

No one had ever twittered (is that how you say that shit) me before. I didn't even know how to check it until if figured it out about a week after the fact. So in essence my soul will burn in Hells hottest fire for an additional week at after the rapture because my homegirl decided that twitter is the new Angel Gabriel...

To make matter worse... she text me this morning to let me know... that she wouldn't be able to make it. I got right back in bed... I'm going to Hell and will most likely be seated in the third row...

-RS

What if I had a stalker... LB

2009-12-11T09:09:00.000-05:00

I had a few folks email me about my stalker post. They asked what if you really did have a stalker? This is how I think it would go down.

Stalker Log
Week 1
Routine check of her refrigerator uncovers many packages of bacon, various diet drinks and I Can't Believe It's Butter Spray.

Routine check of her panty drawer was disappointing.. moving on.

Spent a lot of gas money following her to various drive thrus. How much does she really eat. ... Oh now I get it. She's purging in each of the parking lots.

Routine check of top ebay and google searches... Hair removal, time machines, adult pajamas with the feet, bacon of the month club

Week 2
Nightly ritual the same:
Crying in the shower
Applied acne cream - 20 mins
Shaving back, neck, face and stomach
Please note: She has not shaved under arms or legs since I started observing her.

Eating Habits:
Pretty healthy overall. But twice a week when she eats her night carbs, she puts on a wig and only refers to herself as Joan.

Bedtime:
Takes the same picture of Worf from Star Trek: Next generation to bed with her... every night!

Sleep
Snuck in to lie next her. The sound of the fart was deafening and my eyes are still burning. Never smelled anything like that from a human. Took two wash cycles to get that stink out of my clothes. (Note my aunt mentioned to try tomato juice, works for skunk attacks)

WEEK 3 - FINAL WEEK
Monday & Tuesday- STILL Spending a lot of gas money following her to various drive thrus. STILL purging in the parking lots. She got out of her car to ask if I'd hold her hair.

Wednesday - For the love of all that's holy.... What was that!

Thursday - She left me hot chocolate and warm baked cookies. Not sure if it's to keep me close or bribe me into not revealing what I saw yesterday. Either way it's not working... I can't take this anymore.

Friday... She noticed I wasn't outside and she sent me an edible arrangement and a card with some naked pics. I couldn't even eat my melon arrangement.

Saturday ... I put in a two week notice at my building. She's outside every night, trying to get me to come back.

Sunday... I know your reading this... I keep seeing crumbs from your night carbs JOAN. I will call the police if you continue to come by unannounced.

LB

Special Addendum....
I do actually have a stalker, no bull. Here's how the real life story goes.

A few nights ago I had just pulled into my driveway. When I saw a black station wagon, heavy tints starting backing into my driveway. (now this happens often as people get lost in our development and so I'm used to seeing cars partially back into a driveway in order to make a turn) But this is guy continued to back all the way up my driveway until his car was completely parallel to my own. He then rolls down the window and asks, "You going to dinner?"
My first response was "I don't know you sir, but the answer is no. I'm going to the dentist." (it was actually true) Then I followed up by saying to the man. "I am confused are you looking for something?"
He answered, "I've already found it" and peeled off down the driveway. Now if I wasn't creeped out before I was by then. That was 3 days ago.

Update: I have not seen him since. But as with any other stalker, they are not supposed to be seen. So if I go missing, know that it is no accident. And seek help!

One Man Doing the Manly Things That Men Do… RS

2009-12-10T12:14:00.001-05:00

I recently had a conversation with a very dear female friend of mine (who may or may not contribute to this blog and whose initials may or may not be LB) about the things that women do that they consider womanly vs. the shit that men do that we consider MANLY!! She went on for about 10 minutes and I can tell you this for certain… I didn’t pay one bit of attention to anything she said after lip gloss. Not one word… But she did get me thinking about man stuff so when she finally shut up I went into a long monologue about one of my average days as a MANLY MAN…

I get up and go to work like most average men. I hate that shit like most average men and then I leave at EOD like most average men. It’s when I get home that my need to act in MANLY ways comes into play… So I rolled up in the drive way, got out of the car and found myself bored out of my mind. I walked into my garage, took inventory of my surroundings, formulated a plan and then built a motorcycle from scratch. That’s right, built a motorcycle!!! From scratch!!! Not a dirt bike. A motorcycle! With minimal supplies and basically out of scrap metal just sitting in my garage from the day I tore apart that Ford F150 because I didn’t like its paint job. I didn’t even have any tools. I just bent mental into shape with my bare hands and fused it together with brute strength, the way that real men do. When I was done I threw it on my back and jogged to the gas station to fill it up with Diesel fuel. Then I hopped on the bike and road it to the gym.

When I got to the gym I wasn’t tried but was short on time after having to fuse the steal together with raw strength, so I decided that I wasn’t going to push myself too hard or too long. So I decided to Bench… because that’s what men do. So I loaded up the bar with 225lbs and benched for a half an hour straight. I didn’t even take any breaks. I hit like 400 reps, racked that shit and just walked out of the gym without saying anything to anyone… like real men do.

When I got out side I saw some Average Joe admiring my bike. So I tossed his bitch ass the keys and gave him the bike. My kindness was for two very selfish reasons. One, maybe it would help him be more manly and two, because I might need something to do tomorrow after work and chasing the down the guy who “stole my bike at the gym” and beating him savagely without any evidence of mercy or remorse was just as good as any thing else I could have come up with to do.

Then I ran home… wait… sprinted home… at full speed. It was like a five mile run. When I got home I wasn’t sweating or even tired… but I was starving. So I sprinted a few miles father and found a cow pasture, where I attacked and killed a cow before ripping out handfuls of flesh from it side and swallowing it whole. I didn’t even chew it. I didn’t need to… because I’m a MAN… and chewing raw steak is not what REAL MEN do…

After my meal I returned home and showered. I was well fed, got my workout in, got a ride in and was clean. But something was missing… Ahhh, I know. So I walked into the back yard, picked up my Axe and chopped wood… because that’s what men do. They weren’t even my trees. They were the neighbor’s trees. So as a sign off good will I build them a garage out of the wood since technically it was theirs anyway. Hell, I didn’t care. I was tired of seeing there cars anyway. Now they have some place to put them.

After the wood was chopped and the garage was built, I went inside, sat on my couch, put one hand down my pants, used the other to grab the remote… and turned on Football… Because that’s what REAL MEN do… Later that night I pleasured several women but I try not to get into my personal life on this blog.

When I finished my tail of MANLY DEEDS I looked up at my homegirl… who was applying a fresh coat of lips gloss to her already highly glossed lips. Oh well… she’s a woman.

RS

Ridin Dirrrty! LB

2009-12-08T08:47:00.000-05:00

For those of you who know me. You'll know that I'm really lazy about keeping up with my car's maintenance. But today it caught up with me.

I am 10,000 miles past my last scheduled oil change which puts me about about 13000-15000 over due. In addition, since my move, I have not completed the process to get my title switched to my new state of residence. Which is where this story will begin.

Today whilst, picking up supplies for a work project I was stopped by a cop. And I can assure you, just the site of the red and blue lights made me pee just a tiny bit in my pants. See, my car registration expired 6 months ago.

The officer gets out the car and says to me "Ma'am are you aware that your out of state tags are expired. I kept my answers short and concise. I replied, "yes" He then asked me to see my license, registration and proof of insurance. Here's where things get a little hairy....

1. My license - while I did get a new license. (you avid readers, will remember I did a post on it.) I was carrying around my temporary one - which expired 2 weeks ago. The real license is in my house somewhere, I just can't seem to remember where I placed it. So I was essentially driving with an expired license.

2. Registration and Proof and insurance - As I opened the glove compartment box, what should fall out but 3 unpaid parking tickets. Yet there was no registration or proof of insurance to be found.

He took my expired temporary license and went back to check my name in the system. (With as many unpaid parking tixs as I have, I know I got warrants) So when the officer came out of the car, I knew what he was going to say before he opened his mouth. "Ma'am could you please step out of the vehicle." The vision of my car being towed to a police impound lot was very clear in my head. But instead he just asked why I haven't updated my registration. "I answered him, officer, I started the process but there has been a delay getting the title from my previous homestate which is why the car does not have updated tags. (It was actually an honest answer)

I then asked him in these exact words, "officer, am I going to die. i.e. go to jail." He laughed said no and let me go. With no warning, no ticket, nothing. There are only 4 words to describe how I got out of that without the need for bail money. Jesus. Is. My. Homeboy!

LB

Stalking is a victimless crime.... LB

2009-12-07T08:31:00.000-05:00

Today’s lesson… Stalking is a victimless crime. Personally, I believe stalking has many benefits.

1. Stalking raises the self esteem of the stalkee – wouldn’t you feel like a million bucks if you knew there was someone out there was interested in Every. Little. Thing. You. Did.

2. Stalking allows me to finally get out of the house at night

3. Stalking allows you to wear black, which is very slimming

4. Stalking inspires you to purchase top of the line camera equipment, which everyone needs anyway

5. Stalkers can actually PREVENT home invasions. No burglar is going to rob a house under constant surveillance.

But more importantly, it is a way for you to really stay connected to those who you’ve have fallen out of touch with or those who purposefully asked that you stay away from them. Always remember… Go away simply means hold me close. There were many nights I just laid next my loved one, simply stroking their hair… I stole from their brush. Or on cold nights, I’d find myself drawing little hearts in fog created by my breath against their windows. Those invisible hearts were a metaphor for our love. I don’t know what that metaphor is but I know one to be there.

But the key is to make your stalking productive for both yourself and your loved one. For example, while they are in the shower. Gently fold their towels and neatly place them somewhere they can reach it. If they haven’t made their bed. Do so, and leave a mint or some other memento of yourself on the pillow, so they can know you’re thinking of them. I personally like to sit on every pillow. Makes me feel like they are resting their heavy heads in my lap every night. You’ll quickly learn it’s the little things that bring comfort - and the excitement of not knowing who is doing all these wonderful things for them, is EXACTLY what your loved one wants. (Despite what they tell police) You need to keep things fresh. Everyone wants to be with someone who has a little mystery surrounding them, so you’re not the boring old girl they used to date then dumped for some 60 pound sexually misguided pre-teen with dreams of making it on Top Model. But I digress.

It’s the holidays and a perfect time to go through your phone book, high school yearbooks, prayer lists from church programs and find those people who really struck a chord with you over your many years of life and begin to learn about them. This is where job gets a little dirty as searching through their garbage is a necessary evil. But remember you’re not sorting through their garbage, these people have basically given you clues to their heart and anything worth locking away in your house forever never to be seen again is worth working for. For example, look through their magazines. If you see a page ripped out, go to your local bookstore or library and find out what page it was. If the missing page was an ad for a new Ipod. Buy it, place it on their door step, or as an alternative, place it in the trunk you plan to rest their weary heads in one day. The music you would have uploaded to it from a few casual searches of their computer will be a good friend for the long car ride to their new home. (With you of course, which will be a delight, when they finally realize that you two are really perfect together.)

Well, that is the end of today’s lesson, have a wonderful Christmas and one small thing, you should really turn the water off while brushing your teeth every morning. It’s really not good for the environment.

LB

An Unfortunate Yet True Story.... LB

2009-12-03T20:38:00.000-05:00

While at Panera taking a lunch break. I saw a cute man sitting alone and I decided to try to grab his attention by bending over a counter with a straw in my mouth. I was attempting to show off my skills by feeding the straw thru the hole at the top of the cup. But I missed the hole and ended up stabbing the roof of my mouth with the straw instead. So now to match the bruise on the side of mouth the dentist left me on Tuesday, I now have one on the roof of my mouth as well.

All I taste is shame.

LB

Weight Room Conversations... RS

2009-12-02T12:45:00.001-05:00

I used to workout with two other guys at my gym. I prefer to workout with others because it breaks up the monotony of the routine and provides you with the challenge of trying to keep up with the other guys. It makes something that isn’t really that much fun just a little bit more fun. We didn’t hang out much outside of the gym (only on rare occasion) be we had a good relationship). When a guy was missing in action, we gave him shit. When a guy was complaining about the job, or his woman or his kids, we gave him shit. But it was always in good fun.

Both of these guys were older than me and we are all from very differ upbringings and very different ethnic backgrounds.

One guy was a 42 year old Korean transplant who used to compete as an amateur bodybuilder and detailed cars for living. He was married and had three girls ages 12, 10 and 8.

The other guy was a 35 year old Mexican immigrate who ran a landscaping biz. He had two girls ages 15 and 5.

I'm an inner city Black kid, from DC with a 9 year old princess of my own.

The majority of our workout time was spent making fun of each other in between sets. And since we resembled the United Nations it was usually for some ethnically charged reason. Lots of jokes about ribs, rice, tacos, noodles, chicken, picking cotton, using chop sticks, building railroads, swimming the Rio Grande, etc... Talk of John Shaft, Bruce Lee, Pancho Via, Mike Tyson, Cesar Chavez, Tupac and Jakie Chan.... Dry Cleaning, Nail Shops, Black Exploitation Movies, Rib Shacks, Cinco De Mayo, Taco Stands, Do Jo’s, Crips, Bloods.... It never stopped... But again... all in fun...

One day that all changed... when in between sets... we talked at length about what parts we liked... and didn't like... about the movie... Hanna Montana, which all of us had been forced to see the previous weekend with our children... And it was a serious conversation... until we actually realized what we were talking about.... The point was brought to our attention by several other gym patrons who decided to jump in and help us realize that we were in fact in the Man Cave talking about a 16 year old Country singer and how we would have filmed her movie differently.

The shame rolled off of all three of us more profusely then the sweat. Effectively... our workout was over at that point. I didn’t even finish my final set of whatever exercise we were doing. I just went to the locker room, grabbed my gym bag an left... I drove home in defeat. None of us ever spoke of that conversation ever again.

RS

Things I've learned this holiday weekend... LB

2009-12-01T13:20:00.002-05:00

1. Do buy a Snuggie
2. While at Thanksgiving dinner it is apparently OK to fake an orgasm.
3. Do take the Snuggie with you into the bathroom while puking. It will be your only friend against cold tile floors and porcelain toilets
4. It's OK for 6-8 of your closets friends to crash a wedding (The White House crashers should take lessons. I'm not invited to about 80% of the events I attend!)
5. Do not wear the Snuggie naked. It's like a hospital gown, your back will always be cold.
6. When you watch enough porn, it becomes as natural as watching an episode of Barney (words of wisdom from a well-meaning cousin, also shared at the thanksgiving dinner table)
7. Do wear the Snuggie backwards like a robe and pretend your a character from Harry Potter. British accents required.
8. The cousin/suitor got a promotion AND has been working out since the last time I saw him. (Definitely missed out on that gravy train)
9. Always reverse the Snuggie when letting guests wear it (only applicable if you wear the Snuggie while naked.)
10. Do not take pictures of yourself wearing a beret and aforementioned Snuggie and then email said pics to a friend. Those images will definitely come back to haunt you.

LB

Netflix... LB

2009-11-30T00:10:00.000-05:00

For those of you who do not have netflix. Get it immediately... tell them LB sent you and you'll be sure to receive absolutely no discount.

One of the best parts about Netflix is their ability to suggest other films you might like, based on prior movies viewed. I was browsing through their selections of suggested films, one in particular caught my eye.

It's your typical-run-of-the-mill-homoerotic-sci-fi-thriller

Which makes me think about doing my part to make society a better place by creating great gay porn titles.

These titles could be interchangeable with perhaps real life movies/autobiographies.

Teabaggers Tale: The real life autobigoraphie of the Lipton family
Blowing Smoke: Real like story of Smokey Robinson and the Miracles
Wearing Pearl Necklaces: The Mikimoto story
Right hand / Left Hand: A love story

LB

Do you have any pictures?... RS

2009-11-29T20:07:00.002-05:00

I was lying in bed next to my little girl one night after having just finished telling her another classic story about how Daddy saved the world from tyranny. I think it might have been something along the lines of how Daddy and 300 of his closest friends from the gym united to save the world from some oppressive madman who wore too much jewelry. But I digress…

As I stared down at the only thing on Earth that I’ve ever created that was of any worth at all, I started to think about how much she means to me. And I thought about how much less of a human being I’d without her… And so I saw the opportunity to create a moment that perhaps she would remember forever….

RS: “You know what little girl? When Daddy and Mommy made you we took everything that was good inside of us and put it into you. That’s why you are so wonderful.”

Baby Girl: “What do you mean? You didn’t make me. God made me.”

While this may be true I certainly had something to do with it. And while I will not battle with God for any reason I refuse to not get that credit I deserve for helping make this kid…

RS: “Yes baby, God made you but Daddy and Mommy help to bring you to Earth. And we took all that was good inside of us and…”

Baby Girl: “No you didn’t. How?”

Huh? Fuck! She wants to know how!! It’s too early to tell her how, isn’t it? She’s like seven!!!

RS: “Well, we took that best parts of ourselves and poured them into a glass. Then we gave the glass to God and He did the rest.”

Good one RS. She’s got to go for that one. It sounded so good and came out so pure that for a second I even believed that’s how it went down. But my kid is pretty smart and she was not to be fooled…

Baby Girl: “Nah ahh. I don’t believe you. Do you have any pictures?”

Pictures??? I almost choked on my tongue when she asked about pictures. I could barely contain my laugher as I thought about pictures of her mother and me pouring the best of ourselves into a glass for God. I almost passed out on the floor. Quickly I tried to compose myself.

RS: “No baby girl. Daddy doesn’t have any pictures…”

....but there might be some video tape floating around out there somewhere…

RS

My Chevy Blazer... RS

2009-11-24T13:30:00.004-05:00

I’m a big fan of cars. I love them!! I hit car shows all the time. I’m in the dealers on the regular trying checking out the new hotness. That’s my thing I guess.

But up until now I’ve never had a really nice car. I’m very happy with what I drive today although the greedy bastard deep inside of me would always like to have more. But long ago I drove the worst car on planet Earth. It was a beat up old, used 1997, four door Chevy Blazer. It can only be described as red hot steaming garbage. I had to roll down the window to open the door. I only had one windshield wiper that worked. The air conditioner blew hot air in the summer and the heater blew cold air in the winter. My existence was salvaged only by a rather short commute to work.

I used to hate to go shopping or out to nice dinners because I knew I’d be driving the worst car in the parking lot. Rather than valet that hunk of junk I’d sometimes park it down the street and walk. I hated people with nice, new cars. Fuck them…

One day I was going to buy a new pair of shoes on a Saturday morning. I pulled into the parking lot of the local DSW. There were a lot of cars in the lot but waaaaaaaaaaaaay far from the door was parked what looked to be like a brand spanking new H2 Hummer. It was all black and sat up on 24” rims. It was obviously parked that far away from everything because the owner loved it, probably just got it, and didn’t want stupid people getting too close to it. I don’t blame them. Now that I have a nice car I sometimes do the same thing. That H2 was sick… And I was sick… with a lethal combination of anger, envy and rage.

So I quickly formed a diabolical scheme inside of my head to pass along some of my own suffering to the driver of the afformentioned H2. I drove all the way to the far side of the lot and parked my shitty ass Chevy Blazer right next to the brand new H2. But not just next to it. I was practically on top of it. That’s right. There could not have been an inch of space between my passenger door and the driver’s side door of the H2. I was so close to it that the friend I had traveling in my car with me had to crawl over the seat and get out on my side of the car. Then I ran into DSW to set up my looking post.

While my friend looked for shoes I stood at the front of the store pretending to look at the displays while I nonchalantly looking out the window for the owner of the H2 to make their way out to the parking lot. I couldn’t wait. And then it happened.

I watched the clown walk out of the store… across the parking lot… all the way to his car. I saw him actually see my shitty as ride parked all up on his brand new whip. I could feel the anger in swelling in his head. It fueled me. It kept getting better… I had a front row seat to see him proceed to start screaming profanities, jumping up and down and throwing up his hands up in anger and disgust… ALL IN FRONT OF HIS LITTLE GIRL!!!!! She could not have been more than five years old!!!!!

Score one for RS!!!!!

My heart was overcome with joy and glee as I watched him enter into his car threw the passenger door, crawl over his seat and drive off in frustration.

I feel good right now just telling this story!!! What’s wrong with me?

-RS

The worst thing I've ever eaten... LB

2009-11-24T10:21:00.000-05:00

PS…. This is not an old wives tales or urban folklore… this is the truth….

Many moons ago... I when I was a wee lass. (i.e when cellphones were as long as your forearm and the interweb was not what it is today) My mother was too tired to cook so decided we should go pick up Chinese for dinner.

I got my usual, beef and broccoli and an egg roll. About an hour later, what would be to date the worst case of food poisoning i've ever had hit me like a ton of bricks. I pretty much sublet my parents bathroom for two days. That Sunday, when I could stand or finish a sentence without vomiting. I heard my mother yell for me to come downstairs. She had just read an article about how the very same Chinese food restaurant we had gone to was shut down. WHY? Because they found 40 skinned cats all awaiting their fate, to become various dishes at the restaurant.

I’ll tell you what… It just proves my theory – that brown sauce can make anything taste delicious. (I wonder how it would taste with a little bacon in it)

-LB

Chivarly is not dead!.... LB

2009-11-23T08:39:00.000-05:00

It was a gorgeous Saturday afternoon in DC so me and a male friend decided to take a trip to the zoo. Admission was free and we were broke. We get to the vulture cages, to find one in particular sizing us up for lunch like we were rotting carcasses. (Maybe it was my new perfume.) Suddenly, It swooped down on us. And I will share with you that vulture with a 10 foot wingspan is no joke. When they come down on you, your life flashes before your eyes. Mine was mainly blank - not sure if that's a problem or not!?!

The only separating him from us was a thin wire cage that surrounded the bird compound. While it was enough to keep him from pecking our eyes out, it was too much for my male friend who had, in his attempt to run away from the bird, pushed me towards the cage - TO BE EATEN! He ran to another section of the zoo and promptly called me on my cell to see if I was "ok". Thus proving chivarly is not dead - as he did in fact, call to make sure I had not been eaten alive. He then informed me as to where he was at, because he was NOT coming back to the bird section of the zoo.

PS. My friend may remember that story differently, as in, not pushing me towards the bird to die. But this is the true story! By the way I will say in my friends defense . If there was a bullet coming towards me he would in fact stand between me and that bullet... until it became unsafe to continue doing so.

That's true friendship!

The Water Cooler... RS

2009-11-22T20:56:00.005-05:00

I used to work for a company that was so cheap that it refused to provide employees with clean drinking water. What the fuck? What the hell kind of company is this that won’t provide drinking water? Instead, we as individual offices had to rent our own water coolers and then purchase those giant water bottles that look like plastic beer kegs. It wasn’t that big of a deal and rather than drink out of that nasty ass water fountain we just paid the cost of the cooler.

I had worked for my boss for a few years at that point and when I got promoted to a new office and a new position, rather than change water cooler allegiances I just continued to pay him and get my water from his office. It was a good chance to come in and talk sports and man stuff a few times a day. We had a good relationship and getting out of my new office for a few minutes, where I was surrounded by people whose interest were not similar to mine, if only to drink a glass of water was well worth it… until that faithful day…

Parched and practically coughing up dust I grabbed my water bottle and began my trek several doors down the hallway to where my old office had been. I walked in the door and my replacement was sitting at my old desk trying his best to be half the man I am. Nice kid but I digress. My old boss was standing at the water cooler bending down to fill up his mug with his cell phone resting on his shoulder while he spoke on the phone. Because I am innately an evil individual I saw an opportunity that I could not resist unfold before my eyes…

And so it began…

From a dead stop I squared up my shoulders and ran toward him full speed. My replacement, whose desk faced the door, saw me coming. He had that “what the fuck are you doing?” look in his eyes. My old boss who was busy getting water and talking on the phone never saw me coming. As my speed continued to increase I launched myself into the air and executed a perfectly flawless version of the Karate Kid flying jump kick. “Hay Yah!!!” I screamed at the top of my lungs as I came only inches from his head with my size 11 Steve Madden pointed tip dress shoe. His head popped up just in time to see the bottom of that very shoe all up in his grill.

This is where is got bad…

I scared the shit out of him! The high pitch shriek that came from that grown man was similar to that little girl Nute in the movie “Aliens”. Imagine him screaming out “Riiiipleeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!” at the top of his lungs while throwing his hand up in the air like he was a football game doing the wave.

The cell phone went flying across the room and smashed into a wall. Water rained down all over the office like in a torrential down poor. My replacement and I busted out into laugher so hard that I can only try to describe it. I was laughing so hard that as I stumbled back toward the door I could barely stand up straight. I probably looked like I was drunk!

“What the hell’s wrong with you, you son of a bitch?” he screamed at me as he tried to recapture his grown man voice and maintain some level of dignity.

This is where it got worse…

With his best Cy Young impression (the most famous baseball pitcher of all time for those of you who don’t know) that fool drew back his arm. In his hand he held the mug which used to hold the water he was about to try to drink before I came in playing the Black Ninja. He fixed his dagger like eyes on me and then let that shit go…

I only had a fraction of a second to duck my head down in an attempt to save my life. As the mug sailed over my head I could actually feel it graze the base of my skull. I didn’t see it but I heard it crash on the wall behind me. It exploded into micro dust!!!

“Get the fuck out of my office and never come back in here again!!!!!!”

Still laughing despite nearly being killed by a NY Giants mug I stumbled out of there unharmed but still thirsty. The next day I joined the water club in my new office. It was just safer that way. I spent the rest of the week trying to explain to HR and my other office colleagues that I had had not actually Kung Fu’d the shit out of my old boss…

-RS

A Racially Senstive Subject ... LB

2009-11-19T15:17:00.001-05:00

At work, I usually spend my time unwittingly signing up my friends for herpes support groups or tracking when the newest sci-fi convention is coming into town.

But I have real work to do this week. Real work means I'm not able to crap away my day in idle conversation, I actually have to stay at my desk and show tangible work for my time spent on company computers. My absence prompted my boss and co-worker to come by and visit. Everyone was curious as why I wasn't around to shoot the breeze. So I ...(and here's where I messed up)... said "I was working like.... A FIELD SLAVE, to get everything accomplished."

I had no idea what I'd done would be irrevocably harmful to my future well being in this company. I believed the smiles and subsequent laughter that followed from them was good. An affirmation of the fact that I am capable of making people laugh. But I was wrong and what's worse is what's been happening ever since.

Now when I walk by, (and this is no lie) I hear my boss making the whip noises. Every time she drops off a new project, it comes with the "Just crackin' the whip" statement attached. She made a remark that she was working me too hard like one of PHARAOH's slave drivers... The remark instantly made me flash back to the beating scene in roots and I'm waiting for her to slip up and refer to me as TOBY.

I did this to myself people... I opened the floodgates. Now I have two options...

1. Post this... and quit as my dear friend said to me. Drop the laptop like the mic in Coming to America and run!

or... more feasibly....

2. Curtail the joking, and appear to be the angry black woman in order to get some peace around here. So.... let the eye rolling and neck wagging begin!

(I thought about option 1 - but the cost of replacing that laptop would have come right out of my unemployment checks, can't have that!)

PS.. I just added this because I love the movie so much...

Wake up Call... RS

2009-11-19T13:01:00.002-05:00

A while back my beautiful little Angel had the misfortune of breaking her leg at the beginning of her summer vacation. It was a horrible and tragic event for us both but sometimes I swear it was just a little bit worse for me than it was for her…

So one Sunday morning... I was awoken by the pitter patter of one little foot, two crutches and a cast dragging on the carpet, slowly creeping, into my bedroom...

"Daddy I'm not tired any more. I'm too excited..."

I had been hoping to sleep in a little longer that morning but realized that was not to be.... but then... I realized something far worse. It was still dark. And not just dark in my room. I mean it was dark outside. I turned my head toward my night stand to look at the clock and much to my horror... It was only 5:07am... IT’S SUNDAY MORNING DURING THE SUMMER!!!!! Its 5:07 am!!!!!!!!!!

Oh hell no!!!!

So I got up, looked at her and asked in my most pleasant and loving Daddy voice....
"What are you so excited about honey...?"
"You said we were going to Chucky Cheese today and I'm excited so I can’t sleep anymore..."
I thought I was having a nightmare or something.... This couldn’t be happening. I sat up in bed and thought to myself... I should terminate this apparition of my child right now for it could not actually be her this early in the morning. It simply made no sense. She’s a child. Children like to sleep. Therefore this cannot be her. And there is no way in hell she is so excited about Chucky Cheeses that she saw fit to come in to my room at 5:07am and disturb my slumber.

I realized that the termination of the beautiful small being standing before me was not an option. So I picked up my broken little angel, carried her to the living room, put her in front of the TV, turned on her favorite DVD and prayed that perhaps that would be enough for her to allow me to sleep at least a few more hours. Less than two hours later... at 7:00am I was again awoken by a sound. This time it was not the pitter patter of one foot, two crutches and a cast dragging on the carpet but rather the sound of on angelic little voice carrying out in a sweet melody…
"Daddy I'm hungry..."
F-Word!

Ok, got to get up and feed my child... which I then happily did. At that point it became clear to me that I was up for good. No shot at getting any extra shut eye that morning. So I started to do my normal Sunday morning stuff while she was watching TV. I figured Chucky Cheese would be a noon time endeavor so I’ve got five hours to kill before then . I washed dishes, paid bills, folded laundry... and then sat on the couch next to my baby to watch some TV. It was 11am by that point. One hour to go before Chucky Cheese time. And then the worst possible thing that could have happened… happened…

She looked up at me with her little puppy dog eyes, yawned and then had the audacity to say...
"Daddy, I'm sleepy. I'm going to take a nap."
WTF?? WTF x2!! I was about to lose my mind!!!!! She then proceeded to crutch her little behind down the hallway to her room... where she slept…… until…… 4pm!!!!!! I was sitting there all by myself for the next five hours wondering how all of this had happened. Perhaps if I hadn't sinned so much as a youth or lost my temper so many times as an adult this wouldn't be happening to me....

We didn't make it to see Chucky until after 5pm. She was lethargic the whole time….

RS

Unrecognized Phone Numbers... Works Like a Charm... RS

2009-11-18T09:55:00.006-05:00

Once upon a time I was interviewing with an IT contractor that generated about $40M/year in top side volume. A mentor of mine that did business with the contractor on occasion connected me with the owner of the contract company with whom I quickly developed a good relationship. I had several interviews and it seemed like the offer was on its way... until this guy just disappeared. Didn't return phone calls... emails... nothing. It was like he was an phantom or something like that.

I suspected he was avoiding my calls so I had a friend call him (yep… LB). He picked up immediately because he didn't recognize the phone number. She hung up on him right away. Later, brief interaction would prove useful as it lead him to call her back several times and leave several voicemails offering his corporate services. Once I realized he was, in fact, alive I called from another number to try to set up a final meeting... He picked up (dick head). He sounded a little shocked when I told him who I was but he pretended to be glad to hear from me. I turned on my best “good future employee” voice and tried to work my magic. He confirmed the time, date and location for our meeting... and then that bastard never showed up... I told my mentor at about it and he told me not to pursue any further b/c the guy was unreliable. What? Then why the hell did you hook me up with this fool in the first place? Anyway, I digress…

Now, I’m nobody special but I don’t deserve to be dicked around by corporate thugs. So of course I had to come up with a sick scheme to make this clown understand that his actions were unacceptable and frustrated me greatly. My memory drifted back to when I had LB call him from a number he didn’t recognize and how he responded by basically stalking her to offer his services. It was at that moment that I formulated my Evil Plan of Doom. And after a few weeks of plotting I put Order 67 into effect. For weeks after our “cancelled” meeting this fool got a nice surprise from me… An ungodly amount of phone calls from random numbers that he most certainly would not have recognized to his office and cell phone numbers. How you ask? It was simple. I have several friends who work in VZW and Sprint stores across the region where he operates. I spoke with all of them and told them of my plight and they were happy to assist me in my time of need. They all began calling this fool everyday from different numbers, setting up fake business development meetings under the guise of real and fake companies. Then they would either not showing or calling an cancelling at the very last minute. We even had a schedule set up as well as restaurant reservation confirmed that he actually made. It was brilliant!

I know what you’re thinking. This would be an annoyance but nothing more than that. Well, yes and no. And the way I see it… it’s a little more no than yes. As the scam continued and his appointments continued to either not show or cancel he began calling them back regularly to try to reschedule these fake meeting and offer services. I guess business is slow for him if he’s chasing fake leads like this. This project went on for about two weeks before my friends simply got tired of the charade and stopped making the calls but by that time I was more than satisfied with the outcome. At the end of the day I got nothing out of it... except for the satisfaction of know that for a least a few days he was scrambling just like me.

Did I mention that my life is a dumpster fire???

-RS

The One That Got Away ... LB

2009-11-18T00:01:00.001-05:00

A few years ago, my family began pressing me about why I wasn't married, or at least dating. My cousins lovingly referred to as aunt and uncle informed me that they had the PERFECT man for me. Their exact words were "He had a good job, he was a christian man, funny and lived in my area! He was perfect except for one small very inconsequetial thing. He was my cousin as well. Their nephew to be exact, you can work out the specifics of the family tree in your own head.

So on Christmas day as the family got together to celebrate the birth of Christ, (who's mother never bugged him about meeting a good Jewish girl) who shows up at the door but aforementioned "aunt" and "uncle" AND a plus 1. They brought my cousin/suitor to dinner. The entire night was filled with awkwardness, like when you sneeze and let out a fart at the same time in a group of people. My family, usually a raucous group, were eerily silent as I passed my cousin the greens at the dinner table, as if our hands would touch and we'd look into each other's eyes and do each other! You know, just start pouring ladels of gravy all over our.... anyways... I did my best to avoid him the rest of the evening and no, there were no fireworks.

But 4 years later I found myself thinking about him. I wonder, is he the one that got away? As my other cousin stated, I was crazy for letting him go. He was eligible for a pension- and that was good money! He also has a heart warming laugh reminiscent of Dr. Hibbert from The Simpsons. But looking past the obvious point that he was a blood relative. What is most important is that I gave up the chance (perhaps my only) to form a committed union. I gave up the chance to keep our blood lines pure, like the English monarchy. And as I get into bed ALONE and COUSIN-LESS, I'll have to live with the pain of knowing I could have had it all.

LB

In a World of Violence... RS

2009-11-17T12:51:00.005-05:00

Violence is never THE answer…. But it is always AN answer…. And usually a pretty goddamn good one. At least that is what has worked for me in my experience.

-RS

Realizations... LB

2009-11-16T23:56:00.000-05:00

I have epiphanies all the time... thought I'd share a few with you!

Sometimes in life… your friends and family aren’t wrong. Your significant other really isn’t worth the $20 they borrowed from you.

Money can buy you happenis!

Saying your Bisexual is like saying you love tofu. We both know it's a lie, but I'll let you believe it if it makes you feel not gay.

Sometimes saying you have genital herpes can actually save your rep!

Is it me or does Kim from Real Housewives of Atlanta use her kids as an excuse to do cruddy stuff. "Yea I'll stay with Big Poppa, and ruin his marriage to feed my kids. Yea, I'll eat/skin puppies alive and sell cute toddlers into white slavery if it means my babies stay drenched in Gucci... WTF Kim!"

I also realized today, my life is kinda like the Neiman Marcus cupcake car. At first glance it's gaudy and ridiculous but when you get a chance to really see it for what it's worth you realize all the work that went into it really culminated to a waste of valuable resources as well.

-LB

Out of Which Eye???... RS

2009-11-15T18:40:00.004-05:00

I used to work for this clown a while back that only had one eye. If you are a regular follower of this blog you know that I hated him and that he was actually Satan incarnate. He was known to me and a few others affectionately as the Cyclopes. It’s unlikely that anyone will attend his funeral if and when that day should come but that isn’t for me to say.

One day, that fool joyfully walked into my office and smiled at me. I knew at that very moment that something had to be wrong.

“RS, I feel like business is about to turn around for us. I can see success in our futures.”

I couldn’t resist…

“Oh, really? And out of which eye did you see this success?

Silence… Then an evil one eyed glare… Then he walked away…

Sometimes I wonder how the hell I made it at that evil layer of doom as long as I did…

Typical Marketing Meeting... LB&RS

2009-11-13T13:01:00.003-05:00

These are the minutes from and actual marketing meeting for Deux Losers. It is also a glimpse into the genius behind some of our upcoming "marketing campaigns"

RS: I got an idea to boost traffic to the blog
LB: Lay it on me
RS: We need a sex tape. Scandal sells!
LB: It's genius... Go ahead and get started... I'm right behind you
RS: No, I need to be behind you! Our corporate sponsors prefer if we're both looking at the camera
LB: Fine! Let me grab my Snuggie, some baby oil and a prince mix tape. Oh and I like topless men, so oil up.
RS: We should start by posting a few sexy pictures of ourselves on the blog. I happen to have a few of myself.
LB: WTF? Why the do you have those handy?
RS: Ahhhhh… you never know when you might… well… never mind.
LB: I don't do sexy photos... I thought you knew that already. But once I figure out how to air brush chest hair from a photo it's ON!
RS: You have chest hair? I thought only old women in baptist churches grew chest hair. Oh well. I can work with that but do you mind waxing your upper lip. That shit could drive traffic away.
LB: Yeah, good point. I can do that.
RS: Great. Let’s do this shit!
LB: Can you also make sure there are exactly 6 double stuff Oreos there.
RS: Whatever you need. I will also need a jump rope and a pair of The Perfect Push ups.
LB: Now we just need a D-list tv personality to include so we can leak it to TMZ! What's Ms. Cleo been doing with her life?

And that people is how stars are made...

LB&RS

The Cyclopes and the Can of Fruit Cocktail... RS

2009-11-12T15:09:00.001-05:00

I may have mentioned that I used to work for a Cyclopes and that I hated him… yada yada yada…

Well, on day I walked in on that fool stabbing the shit out of a can of fruit cocktail with a pair of scissors. It was the craziest thing I had ever seen and I stopped short of walking all the way in because I was not sure that what I was seeing was actually taking place (that and the fact that I was concerned for my safety). After taking a few minutes to really get an understanding of my surroundings and the situation at hand, I panned the room with my eyes to try and understand why the fuck he would be abusing his lunch. It simply made no sense. Had it done something to him. Was this some crazy Cycloptic ritual that I had to read about in the Odyssey? Then, next to the fruit cocktail on the desk I noticed the broken can opener which I will assume he broke while he was trying to open the can. I can only assume that because there is always the off chance that this idiot broke the can opener with the scissors as part of the Cycloptic. Again, I cannot be sure.

I stood there for about 30 seconds waiting for him to finish while holding in my laugher and trying to understand exactly what I was witnessing... The time continued to pass as I stood there unnoticed as he continued to kill that poor can. Obviously since he only has one eye he didn’t see me standing at the door (too bad he saw that damn cab though…). Sorry, I digress.

After a few moments I finally couldn't take it anymore and I asked him (while laughing profusely...) "What the fuck are you doing...?"

He nearly jumped out of his seat when I made my comment. Embarrassed and angry he responded... "What the fuck does it look like? I'm trying to eat my lunch. Get out of my office! Go away!"

Clearly this dude has issues.... I mean he was stabbing this shit out of this thing like in the movie Psycho. After witnessing the horrid event from hell... I quickly ran back to my side of the office and told everyone that I could find and would listen about what I had just witnessed...

I feel better about my position in life now. Perhaps it is not nearly the dumpster fire that I thought it was…

-RS

The Perfect Man - Part Deux! LB

2009-11-12T12:13:00.002-05:00

After some additional soul searching, I've come up with a few additions to the perfect man list.

Must love bubble wrap
Must be 3 inches taller than me in my highest heel
Must have a love of fashion (Metrosexuals are strongly encouraged to apply)
Vespas and British accents are a PLUS!

I decided to put my list to the test... so I went to an "popular dating website" After a lengthy Q&A session they showed me two matches based on my levels of emotional needs and wants.

I did not expect these results... (click the read more link to see)

Driver's License.... LB

2009-11-12T09:00:00.000-05:00

I went to the DMV to transfer my license this week. After a jovial conversation, with the DMV attendant, the man asks me to verify my information and subsequently takes my pic. I get to the front to retrieve my new card. The attendant, as he had done with the previous people in line, takes a look at me, takes another look at the card to verify he's giving it to the correct person. Then very politely says, here's your license SIR, have a nice day!

LB

"You Can't Catch Me"... RS

2009-11-10T22:18:00.005-05:00

Did you have a favorite game when you were I child? I’m sure I did but I can’t remember what it was. But I can tell you what my child’s favorite game was when she was little. My baby used to love the play the game “You can’t catch me!” Yeah, you know what game I’m talking about. The game where a little kids runs into the room screaming “You can’t catch me! You can’t catch me!” You know what tune I’m talking about. Most of that time it’s either started with or followed up by a “Nannny Nanny Boo Boo” and a silly face or something cute like that. We’ve all sung it and we’ve all had it sung to us. Stop acting like you don’t know what I’m talking about.

Anyway, kids love that game for whatever reason. My little nephew is at that age where he likes to play. He feels as if he is a master at it. We’ve all seen this skit unfold time and time again. They run into the room, sing that catchy little jingle. “Nannny Nanny Boo Boo, You can’t catch me.” Maybe they stick out their tongues and stick their thumbs in their ears while waving their hands back and forth in an attempt to get you to chase them. And then you get up from you nice cozy seat and scream out “Oh yes I can” and run after that chasing them all through the house and having a wonderful time.

Small children’s fascination with this game always amazed me because it speaks to the magical/innocent mindset of the child. But I have a question for all of those little children out there with their hands in their ears and their tongue sticking out…

WHAT THE FUCK MAKES YOU THINK I CANT CATCH YOU? I mean for real though…? I’m a 29 year old grown ass man. I spend time in the gym running and lifting weights. I’ve been in more fist fights than you’ve lived in months. I’ve played sports at the highest of levels. I’ve trained for years! I’ve got keen vision and cat like reflexes. You have no chance of getting away from me. I fucking hate this game on a level that I can’t describe. The sheer audacity of some ignorant five year old trying to tell me that I can’t snatch their little ass up off the ground faster than they can get those thumbs out of their goddamn ears and pull in that tongue is insulting. Look at me and look at you. You’re not even physically developed yet. Come on man! And I refuse to pretend like I don’t have the speed and agility to pounce on you like a cheetah on a gazelle. I simply won’t do it. I don’t care how cute and cuddly you are and I don’t care whose child you are. You come at me with some “You can’t catch me”, I promise you, you’re little ass is getting delt with!

Let’s break down the physicality of this mismatch real fast. You’re five. I’m almost thirty. Your legs are 18 inches long max. My legs are over three feet long. Do that math fool! That means I’ve only got to take one step to your two just to keep up with you let alone gain any ground on you. And look at the size of my hands. You think that when I wrap that shit around your miniscule little arm you’re going to be able to pull away from me? Like hell. I guarantee that I have more strength and musculature in one of my arms than you have in your whole damn body. Once I’ve even got a piece of you it’s a done deal. And you only weigh like 40lbs. I weigh 175lbs. I’m like a locomotive once I get going. I’ll snatch you up in the air in one motion while you’re still singing that stupid fuckin song from hell!

But just for the sake of argument let’s pretend that I would opt not to use my physically dominating stature as an advantage over you (not that I would ever allow you that kind of mercy). Where the fuck are you going to go that I can’t go? I mean seriously. You only have but so many place at your disposal. You can’t even leave the house without permission. At best you might be able to go out into the yard but if is after dark you don’t even have that. Where are you going to hide? The bathroom? I can get in there. The basement? Yeah, nice try. I can walk down steps too. You gonna hide in some kitchen cabinets? Yeah, I’m tall and I can open those and snatch you ass out of there too. How about you hide under the bed. Yeah kid, I’ve got long arms. I’ll reach under there and drag you right out from underneath that mother fucker with minimal effort. That’s for damn sure!

And the shit is only gonna get worse for you kid. Because after I catch you and it’s your turn to try to catch me, guess what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna get in my mother fuckin car and drive the fuck off. That’s right. Because I’m a grown ass man and there are places that I can go that you actually can’t catch me because your little ass isn’t allowed up in there. You can’t leave the front yard! But guess what. I can! And I’ve got a luxury SUV that will take me as far away as my heart desires. So while you’re standing in the front yard trying to “catch me”, I’ll be at the strip club with my boys making it rain!

-RS

Perfect Man... LB

2009-11-10T10:31:00.000-05:00

Every day, dozens of men (mostly prisoners and non-American citizens) write to try to find a way into my heart. Well the list of what makes a perfect man for is long, and ever-changing, so over the next few weeks/years/decades of my singleness we can discuss the many facets of what makes a "soulmate"
Here a just a few to begin with...

-Must be able to speak fluent Klingon and be well versed in Klingon mating rituals
-Must be a citizen of the United States with no proven ties to terrorism
-Must know CPR - as I often choke on grapes and small removable parts of toys
-Circumcised
-Vegetarians/Vegans/non-pork-eating-men need not apply
Once again folks... As I am like an onion with many many layers. So is the man of my dreams. Stay tuned as we peel through the layers to discover the true description of my soulmate!

Sex in the Shower... LB

2009-11-09T18:18:00.000-05:00

I was forever scarred by the idea of sex in the shower one fateful Saturday afternoon in 1995.

It all started as I was standing outside the bathroom in our old home waiting for the my mother to finish showering. After a few knocks, the door unlocks and I distinctly remember how the steam seemed to race out the door and scatter down the hallway. Out comes my father.... wrapped in a towel. Next comes my mother also wrapped in a towel. She waits until my father is far enough down the hall, then leans over to whisper in my ear. "LB, enjoy sex in the shower while you are young. Because when you're old, you're more concerned with who's hogging all the hot water!"

To this day, I still swallow a little vomit when I retell the story.

LB

Roller Wrap... LB

2009-11-09T08:54:00.001-05:00

I have an odd view on dating, completely and utterly reinforced by the fact that I fall in love with freaks of nature and/or they fall madly in love with me. Rarely is the feeling mutual.

One particular case happened to be when I met the bouncer/beautician/barber/electrician/RAGING CLOSETED HOMOSEXUAL.

For 100 points in the bonus round please choose one of the following.

Please identify which date behavior is unacceptable:

A. Suggesting that you and a date go to a steak house and phonetically pronouncing Sal-mon and As- par-a-gus because you do not know what either is
B. Complementing your date on her make-up and following up by asking for a detailed list of her preferred cosmetic brand names and application techniques
C. Pointing out your date needs a touch-up and offering to give her said touch-up AND a complimentary roller wrap
D. During first date, declaring your desire to start a large family ... soon?!?!?!?!
E. Ambushing date with a kiss on the lips when said date watched you cough, sneeze and blow your nose all day
F. All of the above

I don't even have to tell you what the answer is.

LB

Chicken Breast and the Nissan 350z... RS

2009-11-08T22:54:00.005-05:00

I know you’re going to feel me on this one. I know sometimes you just want to be left the hell alone right??? I know you do. I’m no different. Ok, hear goes…

I eat the same thing for lunch almost everyday. Chicken Breast! Why? Because I’m a creature of habit and because chicken is cheap and easy! And while I’m eating my chicken I like to sit at my desk and be left alone. It’s the only time in the awful nine hours a day I spend at my job that I actually feel like a human being. But for some reason, one of my office mates was determined to stop this from happening. At least three times a week while I would be eating my lunch this fool would come over to my desk and say something stupid like “Chicken breast again?”

Fuck! This shit again? Trying to be nice (which is usually not in my nature) I would simply nod my head in acknowledgement and say something like “yes, chicken breast again” or “yeah, chicken the breakfast of champions.” But after three weeks of this nonsense I couldn’t take it anymore. I was sitting at my desk one day and sure enough, here he came stomping through the office looking like a cabbage patch kid from hell. “Hey RS, chicken breast again?”

I took off my glasses, off tossed them on my desk, slide my chair back, looked him in his eyes and asked him “Are we gonna do this every day man?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, are we gonna go though this whole ‘Are you eating the same thing for lunch again today’ charade every day of the week? I’m just asking because I want to be mentally prepared for this if this is going to go on everyday.”

He was clearly confused by this turn of events. “Wow man, you get up on the wrong side of the bed?”

I let that comment go and just went back to eating my food and ignored him as he walked away stupidly…

But of course… that could not be the end of it now could it…

Three hours later this fool came back to my office seemingly trying to smooth shit over with a truce of some kind. He decided to try to tap into my love of cars which we had talked about before. He had just bought a new one and wanted to show it to me. I had already seen it in the parking lot and I will admit to you that it was serious! It was a nasty Nissan 350z coup in metallic blue. More often that not I would have been happy to run to the parking lot to check out the whip but today… again… I was simply not in the mood.

“Hey RS, you wanna come check out my car? I just got this week. It’s hot man!”

In less than a second I had already formulated the most evil of plans in my head. I could see it unfolding in a manner that pleased me greatly as he stood before me smiling and excited about his new purchase and the prospect of showing it to me “Hell yeah I wanna see your car man! I saw it in the parking lot this morning. That shit is hot! Let’s go. Go ahead, just let me grab my suit jacket.”

The super excited Cabbage Patch Kid from Hell ran out of my office towards the parking like he was a child running toward the tree on Christmas morning as I got up to grab my suit jacket. Then I sat right back down at my desk and continued to work with zero intentions of getting up, going to the parking lot and looking at shit. But I would be lying if I told you that I wasn’t waiting for him to come back. Yep, I would just be lying because I had a little something for his ass.

About 15 minutes later he sheepishly walked back to my office and stuck his head in. Hey RS, did you make it out side? I didn’t see you out there.”

I took my glasses off, tossed them on my desk, slid my chair back, looked him in his eyes and spoke loud enough for all of the surrounding cubicles to hear. “You’re right you idiot. You didn’t see me out there because I wasn’t out there. And that’s because I was never coming out there. And I was never coming out there because I don’t give a fuck about your new car. Not even a little bit.” I paused for a moment to watch his facial expression change from confusion to disappointment, to embarrassment to shame and finally a hit off anger before I continued. “Just like you shouldn’t give a fuck about what I eat for lunch. We clear?”

He looked at my stupidly and shook his head at me in disgust. That moment was a small moment of victory in what is essential a life of failure. I have very few of them.

-RS

Meeting New People... LB

2009-11-07T10:25:00.001-05:00

I've been desperately seeking ways to broaden my social circle. I said, "Carpe Diem LB, you don't meet people by staying home watching old episodes of Battlestar Galatica!" So I decided to go where the people are. My journey took me many places.

-Candle making class
-Star Trek fan club
-Nascar
-Hanging out near the entrances of William-Sonoma
-Posing as a confused patron in the cold and flu section of the grocery store. (still fighting H1N1 8 weeks later)
-Becoming fans of shadow puppets and carbs on Facebook
-Reopening my Myspace account - didn't realize there were so many aspiring musician in the world.
-Joining the flower club at my church

To date, all attempts have failed :(

Motivation.... RS

2009-11-06T21:10:00.001-05:00

When I lact movitavation at the gym, I walk down the row of treadmills and look for the girl with that phattest/most shaply booty and the smallest waist that I can find. Then I get on the treadmill behind her and act like I'm chasing her. Works every time. This is the secrect to my athlectic build. Again, I'm not sure what that says about me exactly other than that fact that I really love women!

-RS

I Used to Work for Keyser Soze... RS

2009-11-06T12:25:00.000-05:00

I may have mentioned that I used to work for a Cyclopes… Well, at one time I actually did. And I hated him! At any rate, I was in my office discussing something with a that fool one morning. We were talking for about five minutes on an issues that we mostly agree on but only slightly disagree on how to come to the same end result. I was of the mindset that this fool was simply arguing with me for the sake of arguing but this was the norm. He was an argumentative Assholes by nature. However, in anticipation of such an event I had spent time the day before preparing myself for battle. I had done some extensive research the day before to prove my position and had printed it out and put in it a file waiting for the moment when this fool would walk into my office and start running his mouth. Like clockwork… his dumbass showed up right on time. And so the agreement began.

I let him go off on his foolish tangent to start. For the most part I said nothing. I could see in his eyes that he thought he had me on the run. Delusions of grandeur probably lead him to believe he was dominating like Shaq in the paint circa 2001. No the case though. I just played that shit cool and waited for balloon boy to run out of hot air. When he finally did I stated my case quickly and concisely. Then my time had come. I turned around while I was still talking to him to grab the file from my file cabinet. I smiled at the document that would almost certainly throw him into a fit of rage and force him to admit I was in fact correct. In my hand I held another moment of triumph... but when I turned back around (still talking to his dumbass) to show it to him my work... like Keyser Soze... he was gone.... No trace of him. None. Like Hoffa.... No evidence that he was ever there. Not in the hallway or anything. I even checked under my desk to see if he was hiding. This mother fucker just vanished into thin air like he was in the Matrix or some shit like that.

My jaw dropped to the floor. My only explanation was that when the moment came that he realized he was about to crash and burn he ran for safety… out of fear!! But was that true? Had he ever even been there at all? Had I just imagined the whole thing? I turned back around and put the file back in the cabinet... sat back down at my desk, shook my head and continued on about my business... unsure if the conversation had ever even taken place...

-RS

LB's driving essentials

2009-11-06T10:21:00.000-05:00

If you've ever driven with me... you will know that every word of this is to true. But for those you who have not had the pleasure of sharing a long drive home with me, below are my sacred beliefs to common driving situations.

1. When driving behind another car.
LB-ism: "Do not stop or slow down until you see the whites of their eyes"

2. Speeding
LB-ism: "If you're doing less than 70 (school zones are not exempt) you might as well be in park. Go (at least) 70 or go home"

3. Stop Sign/Red Lights
LB-ism: "Do not try and bend the spoon. That's impossible. Instead... only realize the truth... There is no spoon!"

4. Double Parkers/Pedestrians who hold conversations on the drivers side of the car.
LB-ism: "They hate their lives and are too incompetent to orchestrate a police-assisted-suicide yet are really looking for someone to put them out of their misery"

5. Spacing between cars/following too closely
LB-ism: "The space between you and the next car should equal the distance of a hug between close friends."

6. Turns
LB-ism: (I actually picked this up from my grandmother) "You DO NOT need to slow down to take a turn,sharp curve or exit."

7. Sudden Stops
LB-ism: "I wouldn't have to do that as often if people knew what they doing."

8. Seatbelts
LB-ism: "I didn't read where it said... and God made seatbelts. Blunt Force....that's what rib cages were made for, you pansies!"

9. Car Cleanliness
LB-ism: "My car is dirty - all the time! I use it as a deterrent to giving out free rides or lending my car to "family" or "friends"

An Ode to Semenya - LB

2009-11-05T22:03:00.003-05:00

Background: For those of you who live under a pink rock and don't know the person featured below, here's the skinny. The woman below was in the center of a great deal of controversy, concerning her gender. How they could question her quintessential WOMANOCITY is unthinkable. So I decided to write this ode to tell her to keep her head up.

An Ode to Semenya

I write this just to let you know

that even though the hair may grow in our ears

I hear your cry

The chromosomes may say "XX"

but we ask "Y"

Moving through life with firm handshakes

and open minds

We give our hearts one last shake

to make sure we've given every drop

Runner...

I hear your footsteps

In the distance the shoe (women's - size 13) gently taps the ground

Like the flutter of a delicate hummingbird wing

The wind flows down our backs,

backs soft with hair, yet strong as a nation

Let us not hide behind our goatees

but celebrate our great personalities

For we are all one gender - HUMAN!

Does our blood not bleed red?

Do not let the deepness of our voice...

Drown the highness of our calling

We are all brothers of the same sisterhood

So hold your head high

Even though the hair may grow in our ears,

I. Hear. Your. Cry.

Technology... RS

2009-11-05T21:12:00.000-05:00

Sometimes I put my bluetooth headset on and walk around talking to myself. Not sure what that says about me.

-RS

My stock is up... LB

2009-11-05T14:53:00.000-05:00

When the pundits on television refer to the "downturn", I personally believe they are referring not to the economy - but my love life.

Although recently, signs indicate my stock is definitely on the rise!
(Stock = my ability to be recognized by the opposite sex as attractive.)

While out on an errand, a homeless man offered to take me to the Cheesecake Factory for dinner. On the real, that man probably had more cash in his 7-11 big gulp then I have in my checking and savings combined. I kept thinking who am I to judge, this man has managed to stay more recession free than me! I almost said yes, ALMOST!

LB

The Cab of Liberation... RS

2009-11-05T13:15:00.001-05:00

I was working in NYC for a few days for my job a while back. Usually I like NYC but with the company I was working for at that time it is hardly ever any fun at all. My boss and I had been fighting with each all week and I finally reached the point where I just gave up on whatever issue we were arguing about. He was just an argumentative asshole and always has his comments and dickheadedness. I really fuckin hated that fool with every ounce of my soul… and I mean every fuckin ounce!!!! I called this fool the Cyclops because his dumbass only had one eye. For some reason that was funny to me… if not to others.

So on about day three of the trip I was walking with my team to an appointment after having gotten into it with dumbass again during the previous appointment. I was about 10 feet behind that asshole and one of my counterparts. They were walking and talking about something and seemed to be loving life. Meanwhile, I walked behind them pissed off and wishing that something in my life would change. If only I had known what was coming. As they crossed the street he wasn't paying attention… and so it began…

I could see a cab bearing down on him at full speed as they crossed the street. What made it better was the fact that the cab was coming on that mother fuckers blind side!!! HELL YEAH!!!! This shit is about to be over!!!! He’s done for. No way he’s gonna see it in time and there is no way I’m gonna warn his ass that he’s about to get rocked! As the cab bore down on him with me following a good 10-15 ft behind I could actually see his impending death over and over again in my head. I started to get excited like a kid on Christmas. It was like watching a championship basketball game with the score tied in the final seconds of regulation. Imagine Jordan dribbling down the court and taking the last shot with time running out. You know what I’m talking about. The whole arena goes silent as we watch the ball fly towards the basket and wait with the dreaded anticipation of the end result. Life moves in slow motion during these magical moments. Such was my vision of that fool as I waited for his bitch/blind ass to get run down by the Cab of Doom. Or rather, the Cab of Liberation!!! The excitement in my heart bubbled over and I started to cheer as if Jordan's shot had already gone into the basket. I was jumping up and down on 5th Ave as if he had already been crushed. As if the Superbowl was over and my team had won….

But I had underestimated his powers. Remember, this dude is blind in one eye (hence the appropriate name Cyclopes)… which I now know gives him supersonic hearing in the ear on the same side. Which means that at the last moment that mother fucker heard the cab coming, turned his head, and then actually saw it coming.

With less than ten feet to go before my liberation that son of a bitch was able to jump out of the way of the cab. Papers and briefs were thrown in to the air as that fool dove out of the way of the cab managing to avoid death and even injury! Injury! This mother fucker didn't even get hurt!!!

My feet were already in the air as I jumping for joy as if that clown was already a pancake. But as he escaped certain doom my emotions over flowed. “FUCK!!!!” I screamed at the top of my lungs as my feet returned to the pavement. I quickly feel to my knees and began to pound 5th Ave with my fist in anger and disappointment.

I thought my suffering was about to come to an but I was wrong. He was just fine. A little embarrassed but not even a scratch on him. I picked myself up off the pavement still 15 feet behind him and tried to regain my composure. Then the shame hit me. I was pissed because my asshole boss… HAD NOT BEEN HIT BY A SPEEDING CAB IN NEW YOKR CITY…. What the hell is wrong with me??? Who does that??

I walked to my next appointment a defeated man. Later that night I cried in my hotel room… not because I was ashamed of my actions but because that mother fucker was still alive….

-RS

Decryption Key to Life... LB

2009-11-04T21:27:00.001-05:00

I don't have much of a life. But when asked by strangers about my plans for the weekend. I usually give one of the following answers. It's all lies, but easily decipherable.
See decryption key below.

Headed to the bar = going to the gym
Shopping = Returning items I couldn't afford in the first place
Grabbing a quick bite = binge eating in my car
Squeezing in a quick workout = binge eating my car and purging in the parking lot
Hanging out with some friends = texting old friends to see if they still remember me... if they don't pose as a solicitor for past due bills.
Nothing much = praying for sweet death to finally take me
Hanging out = praying harder for sweet death to take me
At work = Sleeping (I get my best rest there!)

Ex.
Stranger: "So LB, what are your plans for the weekend"
LB: Probably just hang out with some old friends, then squeeze in a quick workout then after that nothing much.

LB

Office Dancing... RS

2009-11-04T21:08:00.002-05:00

Today, a white girl in my office tried to show her boss (a white man) how to do the Stanky Leg. I walked away in tears.... However, that was not the worst part. I quickly realized that she was in fact... doing the stanky leg far better than I can. In fact, she was nasty with it. After I got back to my desk I cried. My life is a Dumpster Fire!

RS

Lamaze... LB & RS

2009-11-03T12:48:00.002-05:00

LB: I'm supposed to go to Lamaze class with my friend. I don't know if I can do this... but she's counting on me.

RS: The thought of you touching another woman in her time of need... Breathtaking!! Try to get it on film... ahhh... from the waste up.... Please..

This Morning at the Gym… RS

2009-11-03T10:18:00.001-05:00

I workout this morning like I often do before work. I go in order to work the anger and frustration out of myself before I go into my office and have to wreck shop on someone for looking at my crazy. You know how it is. This morning was no different for the most part. Ran… lifted weights… got ready to take a shower. This is when things started to go south. As I was getting in the shower, I dropped my towel on the floor and half of it got wet. Shit!!! But ok, a lot worse things have happened to me in my life so I just said fuck it…

I took my shower and got out. I was watching Sports Center on the flat screen in the locker room and everything was cool… until a naked dude came up to me soaking wet talking about some “Hey man, I think you took my towel.” I looked down an realized that the towel that I had brought this morning was no longer white… but was now grey… and was not nearly as wet as it should have been after I dropped it on the floor. Fuck!!! Sure enough, I took this fools towel and mine was hanging on the rack by my shower.

Upon initial inspection I was 100% sure that if I needed to I could kick the shit out of this dude if it came to that. But the fact of the matter is, I was wrapped in his towel and he was naked and wet. That means that a fight was out of the question. Fuck!

At that point… all I could do was swallow my pride, walk over to the showers and hand him my towel which despite not having been used… was half wet. I handed it to him and dared him to say shit. He gave me the “fuck you” eye and walked back to his locker. I hope I never see him again!

RS

The One... LB

2009-11-03T09:59:00.001-05:00

I was in the drive through at McDonalds yesterday. As I drove to the window to pick up my food, I felt an instant connection to the man handing me my "salad"
He was tall, gorgeous, Hispanic, with real prison tats and so well mannered. The way he said "Would you like Ketchup with that?" I knew he wanted me. In an instant, I wanted to jump on him and start humping his leg. But alas, I'll just wait till my next "salad" and hope we have the chance to meet again. This is what love feels like. I know it.

LB

Healthy Living... LB

2009-11-02T08:20:00.001-05:00

I have decided to take a more VEGETARIAN* approach to my cooking.
*My dishes may contain peanut products, shellfish, BACON and or any pork related byproducts.
LB

Mother-Lover... LB

2009-11-01T23:00:00.002-05:00

Yesterday, as my mother and I were shopping a sales woman, mistook my mother and I (not for sisters) but for similiar looking lesbians. She then gave me this, "I am totally accepting of your lifestyle" look, as she rang up my purchase.

It's a sad day when you look old enough to bang your own mom.
LB

Ways to be more "Green"?... RS & LB

2009-11-01T22:52:00.002-05:00

RS: I just went to lunch at this Vietnamese spot we go to about twice a month... and when I went to pay for my food... I saw a little old lady laying on the floor and asleep behind the counter... It was very weird...

Clearly they were ok with her being there b/c the staff kept stepping over her as if she wasn't laying on the floor asleep.

LB: They should have pushed her near a door, to keep the draft out.

Can Jesus really save me??... RS

2009-11-01T19:24:00.002-05:00

I usually wear a cross around my neck to work. However most of the time you can only see it on Friday b/c I'm dressed casually.... It is big but no gaudy or anything like that. Pretty classy I think. One of the guys I work with (60 year old backwoods redneck that I really like a lot) walked up to me shook my hand and said... "not even all that Jesus hanging around your neck can help someone like you son..." Then he walked away. I almost fell over laughing. But... maybe he was right...

RS

3 - 5 Days... LB

2009-11-01T00:44:00.001-04:00

While purchasing tampons at a local drug store the male sales clerk at the cash registered remarked
"So I guess I should wait 3-5 days to ask for your number"

-LB

30... LB

2009-11-01T00:31:00.002-04:00

My mother said I would be pretty... when I turned 30! I'm 27.

-LB

My Influence on Today's Misguided Youth... RS

2009-10-31T18:41:00.003-04:00

My mother has three godsons. I have a good relationship with the oldest one who is 19 and a college sophomore. He was a little clingy when he was younger but now I really like him and we talk often. I'm kind of a big brother to him which is cool since I have no brothers.

Anyway... he has a younger brother who is 16 and is also a very nice kid and also on of my mothers godsons). I guess he is coming to the age of rebellion now however. I'm not sure of the details but this past Friday he hit his mother in the face....

His mother called the older brother to tell him what his younger brother had done. He was very angry and called me basically to try and calm him down. I jokingly told him that maybe he needed to go home this weekend and show his brother how to really beat someone down since he obviously didn't do it right (seeing as how his mother was still standing). I thought he would find that funny.... Apparently not...

Fast forward to Monday...

I got a call from my mother telling me that the older brother drove home from school on Friday night (three hours), rolled up in the driveway at midnight... stepped out of the car (standing 6'3" and weighing 250), walked into the house...dragged his younger brother out (who had been playing video games) and beat him in the front yard with no evidence of mercy or remorse... then got back in his car and drove back to school. According to his mother he never even said a word to anyone....

Obviously I am partially to blame for this. I called him and asked him what the hell happened. He told me that he knew I was right and that he had to address the issues before it became habit for his brother.... I know that when this actually becomes a family conversation this kid is going to bring up the fact that he talked to me and took my advice.... This is going to send my mother through the roof because it is going to look like I gave the order for the hit on her younger godson. I asked the older brother not to mention me in any of this and he agreed but when the heat becomes too hot he could sing....

This is going to come back to me somehow....

RS

Inn of the Dove... LB

2009-10-30T14:18:00.001-04:00

I was driving by this small motel last night called the Inn of the Dove. In PA they are all over the place. They are small suite style motels that focus on couple getaways. All the rooms have hot tubs, king sized beds, champagne, strawberries, etc. And I thought to myself yesterday. I would NEVER stay there. I feel there is not a washer/dryer equipped to remove all the many years worth of excretions out of those sheets. I imagine the hot tubs being so grimy that the jets create a foamy top like a pint a Guinness. The whole concept to me is wrong.

But the same goes for any motel really. I think of all the folks using those places to carry on their torrid affairs and I can literally begin to feel the shame. It's uncomfortable like crumbs in the sheets.

-LB

Public Shaming... LB

2009-10-30T11:08:00.001-04:00

Yesterday while walking through the mall. My arms heavy with bags filled with stuff intended to boast my fragile ego, hair flowing in the wind and my fly... wayyyyyyy down! I didn't notice it until I reached the parking lot and felt the cold wind on my crotch.

This is a marked improvement to the time I was in a rush to leave a dressing room and forgot to put my shirt back on. Just threw on my wool peacoat and kept it moving. It took me a good 10 minutes to realize that the silky fabric against my skin was not my shirt but the lining of my coat. By the time I realized there were already a group of 13yr olds staring. I was 13 at the time too... No one bothered to get my number, and not a pedophile in site. Even chunky teen needs to feel special every once in awhile. Pedophiles man... never a good one around when you need them!

-LB

Welcome...

2009-10-30T10:59:00.003-04:00

We here @ DeuxLosers simply post random thoughts, every day, week, or whenever we feel like it. Hope you enjoy. Feel free to add your moments of loserdom as well.

Welcome!!!