Easily the best part of my day

You know what I love? Being on the phone with a coworker who's talking about a fight she had at work that day and listening to this:

"And I told him that I don't care if she thinks I'm difficult to work with, because she's a fucking bitch. And really, she is - she's a raging cunt."

Nothing makes me happier than when a woman is angry enough to bust out the c-word.

Then there's No-Dice Joe, who screamed it at a woman who threw him an elbow on a crowded Broadway sidewalk in SoHo a few weeks ago.

Or his brother, who once called a flight attendant a "malicious cunt" in Chicago, getting him - and his entire party - tossed off the plane.

Lotta anger in that family. Lotta anger.

Two things that made my day yesterday

via Overheard, of course:

Fabulous woman: That's all vodka under the bridge.

--55 Bar

Overheard by: Girl Margaret




Queer on cell: I know... I know! Gosh, that is sooo gay!

(bewildered elderly lady looks at him)

Queer to elderly lady (in shrieking voice): Oh my god, oh my god, the faggot said gay!

--Central Park

...some hideous skirt convention you have to go to?

A sampling from a work conversation today:

Coworker 1: We interviewed another woman for the position. I can't believe I'm telling you this, but she showed up wearing a two-piece denim suit.

Coworker 2: [giggles]

Coworker 1: So, anyway, she used to work---

Coworker 3: Wait a minute. Back the train up. Did you say "two-piece denim suit?"

Coworker 1: Yes, but not like you're picturing. It was more like a thin denim---

Coworker 3: No, I think it's exactly what I'm picturing, and it's godawful.

Coworker 2: That's what I said!

Coworker 3: Jesus Christ. A two-piece denim suit. I would have taken one look at her and said, "Never mind, you can go."

I think we were lying in the middle of it

Saturday afternoon - Chelsea Pier. I'm lying on a towel baking with Brad and Rob and trying not to die in the overwhelming heat.

Directly to my left are a guy and girl sitting in lawn chairs. The guy is older than her - maybe in his early 30s. She's probably about 27 and hasn't shut the fuck up since we got there. They're reading trivia questions to each other.

Brad turns to me, rolls his eyes, and says, "Sometimes I wish I could just stop hearing things."

"Like old people who can just turn off their hearing aids," I agree. "And to make it worse, this bitch is really dumb."

He gives me a questioning look.

"The question he just asked her was, 'In which state is Boys Town located?'" I explained. "She guessed Philadelphia."

Woof

Me and my fucking teeth - honest to Christ, I'm going to get them all ripped out and replaced with big honking chiclets like Hilary Duff. Oh, don't think I won't. I'll look like Thayne on "So You Think You Can Dance," all fucking smiles all the time because my lips can't close around those chompers.

Ugh. Remember all the root canal trouble I had last fall? Well, the gums around one of those (the finished one with the crown) were really irritated last week, so I gave in and made an appointment with the dentist. I also had a cleaning at the same time, since my last one was, oh, I don't know, a year ago. Oops!

So I get there and they clean my teeth, whatever, no big deal. And then the crazy Russian dentist lady comes in to look at my mouth and basically tells me that I really need a crown on my second root canal. (I never got one last fall because (1) my insurance was completely shot to hell, and (2) I had an abscess, so they didn't want to close it up completely.)

Then crazy Russian dentist lady tells me that one of my other fillings is broken and is digging into my gums. Terrific. Let's keep the great news coming!

She makes some snarky comment about me being so behind on my dental care.

"I don't know...I got busy," I said lamely.

"Well, Mr. Busy," she says in her Russian accent, "Now you need crown and filling at same time, and you need them AS SOON AS POSSIBLE - ASEP."

(C'mon, it's kinda cute that she spelled it "ASEP," isn't it?)

I marched my fat ass over there today for my 1 hour appointment, which ended up lasting two hours and ended in me staggering out of there, face completely numb, gums still bleeding, with a temporary crown in place.

And, of course, $370 lighter.

"$370?!?" I garbled to the receptionist, wiping drool from my face. "What about my insurance?"

"That's your co-pay for a crown," she said coolly. "And we don't take AMEX."

I jammed the AMEX card I had been holding back in my wallet and took out my Visa - the same bright, shiny Visa that I just paid off, and which at the moment had a $0 balance.

Life can be such a bitch sometimes.

One down

I am not in a very charitable mood today for several reasons, and so I couldn't help but grimace at the gym earlier this afternoon when CNN showed footage of Jesse Helms' funeral, including his flag-draped casket. It actually makes me sick that such a terrible person warrants such a show of respect.

I came across two pieces this afternoon that agree with me. One is from Michelangelo Signorile and quite eloquently gives Helms exactly the send-off he deserves (quote: "He was a racist, a homophobe, a misogynist and an all-around hatemonger. Let's not let the media whitewash any of that").

The American media certainly seemed to, but the British didn't, thank god. As The Guardian put it: "To echo this newspaper's memorable comment on the death of William Randolph Hearst, it is hard even now to think of him with charity."

May you rot in hell, you evil son of a bitch.

[via]

La isla bonita

Benjie, No Dice Joe, and I - and possibly Tits McGee - are going to Hawaii next month for 12 days. It's my first real vacation in several years, and goddamnit, I'm going to enjoy myself. (That means I've already vowed to delete my work email account from my iPhone before we go. Those bitches can fend for themselves for 12 days.)

Since I am the largest lady out of our group, and because I gained 6 lbs during my crazy months of travel in April, May, and June, I decided that desperate times call for desperate measures. So I hauled my fat ass over to Fitness Together - which, side note, is located next to a bakery...how cruel is that? - threw down my AMEX, and told them they had 2 months to whip me into shape.

They responded by charging me a lot of money and putting said fat ass on a diet and a 3x/week schedule.

I've been 4 times so far, and while I don't enjoy it, it's not awful. Plus I think they're all sort of amused by me.

Of course, that could be because I showed up on the Monday morning after Pride sporting two very noticeable hickeys.