The rude and crude
There are two particular things that have been annoying the hell out of me lately because it’s been happening a lot.
One is when someone constantly opens (or tries to) the door without even knocking no matter how many times you tell him or her to knock first.
My family is the worst, especially my mom, she’s nuts, love her, but she’s pretty nuts. I’ll have my bedroom door locked and I hear her trying to turn the knob, and when it doesn’t open, she keeps on turning it ten more times like it’s eventually going to open by itself, but she’ll never knock or say, “Hey can I come in?” She refuses to be polite so she keeps on turning it until someone on the other side notices it.
I don’t know, I just get anal about it, because no one ever knocks nowadays. You know, some doors don’t even have locks or they’re broken. Recently, I went into a public single restroom and the lock wasn’t working. As I was doing my business, I felt a little nervous that some annoying asshole might catch me wiping my ass.
It didn’t happen because someone actually knocked five seconds later, as to which I replied, “Uh…yeeeeeAH!”
What do you say when someone knocks at the restroom door anyway? It rarely happens to me. Anyway, I was thankful and I already knew the guy was likeable because he knows how to knock. Bless his little heart.
So here’s the other one. I hate it when people ask me how much I get paid whenever I get an acting gig.
I don’t mind if people do, but there are some assholes out there who are constantly asking me the same question, and it’s the only question (besides asking me if I landed any jobs). They don’t care about what my role is and what the story line is, and anything else that actually has to do with whatever project I’m involved in. They’re just (desperately) curious as to how much I’m making.
Seriously, that’s rude. The next person that asks gets a turd thrown at their face.
I can haz cheeseburgers
Do you know what’s made of awesome?
Cheeseburgers
Not only are they full of deliciousness, but they make great utilities and accessories, such as phones, toasters, pencils, hats, and the like.
The one that I’m holding in this photo is actually not a cheeseburger! It’s a CD holder, holding my CDs, disguised as a cheeseburger. Clever isn’t it?
It’s my first step to collecting them all.
Anyways, next topic, Myspace referrers.
The one thing I hate about Myspace is that the myspace links on your referrer pages does not direct you to the actual link. It always goes to here.
Today, I noticed that that I’ve had about five referrers coming from a certain Myspace page, and I’d like to know where the hell it’s coming from.
So if you’ve found my page from a Myspace page/bulletin/blog/etc, can you please tell me exactly where it’s coming from?!? You’re killin me smalls!
God Bless America
Hi party people! This entry is going to quick and painless. I just want to wish all of my fellow Americans a happy fourth of July.
I’ll be sporting my patriotic pants (see photo below). I really dig them.
Have a safe night!
I <3 Dentist.
Am I the only person in this universe who actually enjoys going to the dentist?
I have an appointment with the dentist tomorrow afternoon and since I’m so delighted about my forthcoming oral spa-like treatment, thought I’d should share how immense my love is for the dentists to you.
Like any normal child, I, too, was once petrified of them. No, but really, I’m surprised that I’m not traumatized by the first dentist-turned-Freddy Kruger that I had in my childhood years. I’m telling you, man, that bitch was the worst of THE WORST dentist you could possibly get, and she probably hated kids too.
The lady that I use to get my teeth done usually wore a white lab coat that always had crusted blotches of red and brown splattered all around the stomach area. She was always talking smack about how gross my teeth were to my mother, but the assistant would always come to my rescue and mumble his obliging words of encouragement to me such as, “Don’t listen to her she just likes being mean.”
She never injected enough Novocain into my gums, so every tooth that was pulled, every tooth that was repetitively yanked by her stingy-i-don’t-want-to-waste-my-novocain-butthole, I had felt (could you have imagine the molars?!?!).
When I found out I had to surgically remove four of my wisdom teeth at the age of 17, the first thing I did was to find a new dentist practice because there was no way on earth I’d go back to that place which bears a striking resemblance of the movie Hostel to SURGICALLY remove MY wisdom teeth. No, hell no, that’s like equivalent to eating a pile of boogers and then jumping into a river of flesh eating piranhas.
Well I had later found a new place that I actually liked. The people seemed caring and professional, as they should; everything was clean including their lab coats. And you get your own personal room with a TV at the top of the corner. Yeah, TVs always good, but sometimes I get this dentist that has really huge tits and her tits are always blocking the TV when she performs on my teeth, and I’m always tempted to ask her to move her tits out of the way so I could watch an episode of Full House, but I guess that’s alright.
I’ve been going there for the past couple of years because the stuff they do to my teeth feels like a luxurious massage made in heaven, including the shots they inject into my gums whenever I need to get my cavities filled. Yeah it is sort of painful, but it hurts so good!
They even told me that I make their job a piece of cake. Did you know that dentists have one of the highest suicidal rates than most careers? That’s because people either hate them or they’re completely terrified of them or both. It’s unfortunate but it’s very true. So the next time you see your dentist, try not to give them a hard time. 
hey fuck you spam
Why does the food that I love have the same name as unsolicited bulk messages that offer male enhancements?
I went grocery shopping today and saw the canned product, which instantly gave me a flashback of the good times I had when eating it…until it unexpectedly morphed into a massive penis made out of spam.
I can never look at Spam the same way again. :-/
Crouching socks hidden q-tips
Socks and wet feet are one of the most horrid combination of maximum discomfort. Aren’t they the worst? I don’t know why, but there seems to be small areas of puddles scattered throughout the house this week. I hate puddles. You don’t notice them until you step on one, and that’s where you go, “Fuck! I stepped on a puddle with my socks on!” I think I changed my socks four times today all because of it. At first, it wasn’t so bad, and you’d think the socks would eventually dry up but it NEVER does. Minutes later, you start to feel the wetness travel to the bottom of your feet and that’s definitely where the line is crossed. I can’t have that shit anymore.
I don’t want to end this entry leaving people pissed off about how irritating wet socks are, so I’ll tell you what feels unbelievably good: Cleaning your ears with q-tips. I look forward to it every night after every shower I take. Yes shower! Wetter is better (except for wet socks). Sometimes, people think I’m doing something else in the bathroom, but no no it’s just little Tiff working the q-tip.
I know that using q-tips for your ears is supposedly unsafe and limits your hearing, but I cannot resist the temptation.
The end.
Texting Addiction
I think everyone knows a least one person who’s nothing but a mothertruckin’ ruthless texting machine. They’ll text while driving. They’ll text while eating dinner. They’ll text while screwing. And they’ll text while taking a massive shit…actually that one might not be so bad.
Either way, it’s starting to drive me up the wall, and it can be totally impolite under certain circumstances.
I was taking a friend out to breakfast (he’s probably going to read this too) and as I was driving him to Ihop, he did nothing but text. I tried to start a conversation but I ended up talking to myself (with the few exceptions of “yeah,” “uh huh” and “ha”) because he was too wrapped up in the world of relentless texting!
I wanted to grab his phone and throw it out the window, and then slap him a few times, but that wouldn’t nice of me. Texting in general is not an issue for me-it can clearly be useful at times, but to just use it to a point where you frequently isolate yourself from everyone else is pathetic.
What is honestly there to talk about? If it’s that important that you have to text every other minute, why not just stop beating around the bush and fuckinnggg call them?
Hurray! Tiffsbloggy is born.
There’s something addictive about purchasing multiple websites, since I have already bought another one not too long ago. There’s something awkward about making yourself into a wordpress theme too.
