i hate it
So I’m out jogging this morning (suspend your disbelief) and an older lady who was leaning up against a light pole waved me over. I didn’t know if she needed help or what so of course I went over… and she tried to sell me Mary Kay cosmetics. While I was jogging. For real? Is that the new pink Cadillac hustle? I almost gave her “the big eyes,” but she was old enough to be my granny so I just said “No, thank you” and kept it moving.
Mary Kay ladies really are shameless, though. One of my girlfriends said a lady tried to sell her Mary Kay at church, during the part of service where you say “God bless you” and greet your neighbor. And she wasn’t even her neighbor! I’m sure it’s not real Christian to take back a “God bless you,” but neither is critiquing someone’s pores during the sign of peace.
I don’t see how posting up near a light pole and waiting for joggers to pass at 8:30 in the morning is a good marketing plan. I mean I’m dripping sweat, I’m out of breath, and who jogs with their credit cards? It seriously felt like a drug deal… Take this sample and if you like it, meet me back here tomorrow. I wouldn’t be surprised if she modeled her sales pitch after a for real street hustler, cause Mary Kay ladies appear to be about that life.
As many of you know, I’ve been trying really hard to hate R. Kelly for the last 10 years. But I keep backsliding. I think I may have finally found a solution to wean me off of his music… Check out the video!!!
So it took me a while to figure it out, but apparently an Ibuprofen allergy is what’s responsible for my face looking like this. It’s something that developed over time — I’ve been taking Advil forever — so I didn’t immediately suspect it. But I finally put all the pieces together today. Every time my eyes swell I take photos so that I can show them to a doctor someday when I’m able to afford health insurance. Glad I didn’t have to wait that long…
It happens at the most inconvenient times. Earlier this month when I was headed up to NYC for a TV taping, the photo in the middle happened. Yeah, I had to be on camera that afternoon. It wasn’t pretty. Literally. At first I’d struggled to figure out what foods might have caused this reaction. And when I couldn’t find any commonalities, I’d written it off to stress. The pic on the left happened on the day my trifling ass “tenant” (quotations because actual tenants pay rent) “returned” these keys to me during the eviction process:
Why would that be stressful, EJ? That sounds like a good thing.
They were not my keys.
On the day of the second photo, I was also dealing with some drama about renting my condo and thought “Gosh, this whole being a landlord thing is really stressing me out.” I was kinda right. Because the situation spawned the headache that made me take the Advil.
But today I was stress free when I felt my face start to tingle about 30 minutes after taking something for a sinus headache. I finally put 1 + 1 + 1 + 1 (this happened once before in February when I threw my back out) together. I started Googling for Ibuprofen allergies and allergic reactions and I found my face! Well, not my face specifically but it was definitely my face. I felt like a super sleuth. I was more proud of myself for solving the case than I was glad I could prevent this from happening in the future.
As a reward for all my hard detective-ing (and to de-puff my eyes of course) I treated myself to a nice double dose of Benadryl and called it a day. At about 3pm. I’m just now waking up. And now I’m going back to sleep.
Not sure why I feel like you all needed to know all this, but I do. You’re welcome.
So I haven’t had much (well, nothing actually) to say about my tenant/current living situation on the blog, but it was a hot, steamy mess and I’m going to have MUCH more to say about it in the near future. Stay tuned for my upcoming video piece entitled “Squatting on My Dreams.” It’s going to be epic. In the meantime, check out the video below:
I caught Old Man Jackson posting his no trick-or-treat signs this evening. I knew he was on his way to hang them because he asked me if you spelled “treat” with an “e” and an “a” or two “e’s” because it didn’t look right to him. I should have told him it was the second way. Would have made for a much funnier photo. I’ve been calling him Mean Old Man Jackson all day and yelling out the window for people to get off his lawn. Even though there was no one on the lawn.
This one was taken from inside my Halloween Prison. Let me out, Scrooge!!! These kids’ costumes are so cute I just wanna go outside on the sneak tip and give them some Mentos out of my purse. I hope someone breaks me outta here.
Yes, my fellow Americans. Someone thinks we’re this lazy:
And you know what? They’re probably right.
Tired of all that pesky bending at the waist business when you’re in the shower? Of COURSE you are. Well, bend no more. Easy Feet is here to save the day! A built-in pumice stone, bristles and suction cups that stick to the shower floor?… And here I thought advertising college in your pajamas was bad. One of my Facebook friends posted this yesterday and I was so angry at him for making me aware that this existed. I am also angry at whomever invented this product, the focus group that told he/she it was a good and necessary idea, anyone who has purchased it, and the stores that carry it. CVS better not be in on this…
I think this contraption constitutes the laziness saturation point — unless someone creates a body-sized loofah that you can soap up and stick to a shower wall or roll around on in a jacuzzi. Don’t steal that. It’s mine you lazy bastards. If you’re not insulted that someone thinks you might be lazy enough to purchase this, something might be seriously wrong with you.
Gotta go now. Time for my midday nap.
I feel sorry for people in wheelchairs. But not for the reason you think. I’m not into pitying people because of their physical condition. Because you never know what their situation or testimony is. I feel sorry for people in wheelchairs because of what goes on in [handicapped] accessible bathrooms all across this country. Everyone reading this knows that when you feel the need to “marque numero dos” in a public restroom, you instinctively check to see if the handicapped stall is available. There’s something about the extra space or that it’s usually the furthest from the door, but everyone does it. Yes, you too.
Well think about how you would feel if you were in a wheelchair and every time you went into a bathroom your only option was the stall everyone else uses to take the Browns to the Superbowl. I was in a store restroom yesterday, and when I was coming out of my stall there was a lady in a wheelchair headed towards the accessible stall. When I got to the sink, I heard her go, “Oh my!” Then I turned to see her shaking her head, and then reluctantly rolling in. I felt so awful for her. I mean we’ve all been in that situation before, but most of us take for granted that when we walk into a gross bathroom we can just try another one.
That nasty handicapped stall is all this lady had…
Think about that next time you’re in a public restroom and you’ve gotta [insert your own euphemism here -- I'm all out]. And let’s try and do a little better for our friends on two wheels.
1 :one who encourages another to persist in self-destructive behavior by providing excuses or by making it possible to avoid the consequences of such behavior.
Rather than use it in a sentence, I have opted instead to offer a visual explanation. Please check out this video clip and the photo below and meet me on the other side.
You see all those people cheering in the audience? Jersey Shore Ronnie sitting on somebody’s shoulders? And all the other artists giving Wayne dap? I’m talking especially to YOU — Khaled, Rick Ross… They have enabled this once-clever lyricist to the point where he now thinks everything he does is hot — including running around the stage bare bird-chested in leopard pajama jeans and Ronald McDonald shoes, singing R&B and pretending to play electric guitar.
Part of the problem is that once anyone gets super famous like Wayne, a “yes” bubble forms around them.
WAYNE: Yo, y’all think I should rock these jungle print footie pajamas to the MTV Awards?
THEM: If we say no, you still gon’ pay our rent?
THEM: Then, yes.
Or maybe it’s just the drugs. I mean would a clean Wayne — even if surrounded by an army of “yes men” — do some of the things he does? I think if he actually has some people in his life that really care about him, they should call the folks over at A&E and get dude on an episode of “Intervention.” All they’d need to do is get him halfway sober and show him his VMA performance from Sunday night. The show would only need to last 4 minutes. Just get everybody in the room, turn on the DVR, put him in the limo to the rehab, roll credits. Cause I mean, really… What more is there to say?