susieworld

If you want sense, you're going to have to make it yourself.

40 and … what’s another F-word besides fabulous? 09/16/2011

Filed under: My Life,Susie's World — SusieWorld @ 9:12 am

Deny, deny, deny.

The moment I’ve been dreading since I was 18 and saw “When Harry Met Sally…” for the first time will be here in two short weeks.

SALLY:  And I’m gonna be 40!

HARRY:  When?

SALLY:  Someday.

I don’t WANNA be 40!  I’m not ready yet.  There’s so much I haven’t done and may not have time to do.  Like maybe have a baby.  We’re cutting it close to the wire on that one and I still can’t make up my mind!  Why did the good Lord create women to best give birth at the age of 14??  Can you imagine “Teen Mom” in Biblical times?  Actually, it’d be the opposite – JTV’s (Jesus Television) “30-year-old Mom.”  (My goodness! I can’t believe that old hag is having a baby! At THAT age?!)

But I digress.  40 is middle age to me.  I don’t have children.  I don’t own a home.  I’m “between engagements” right now (read: I don’t have a ‘real’ job)…  I’ve been in therapy off and on for 20 years and I’m still totally mental!  Okay, that last one was expected and actually, being mental is good for the creative process.  Tortured artist and all that.

When I was 14 and of good birthing age, I decided I was going to be a young mom and be married and pregnant by 21.  By 21, I was too drunk for that.  Oh, and I was living with my parents.

And you know I just don’t buy into the whole “40 is the new 30” B.S.  40 is still 40 and black is still black.  Or is pink the new black?  I just don’t know what to expect from fashion this season.

In addition to being the mother of a college student or two by 40, I planned to be very thin, very wealthy, happily married, working as a singer or actress, and living in a large home with housekeepers and chefs who would be considered family.  Can you believe NONE of that happened??  Ambition counts for something and a true princess such as myself expects these things to fall into her lap.  Still waiting for that winning lottery ticket to waft down from the sky.

So I’m going to be a Negative Nellie about turning 40.  To me, it’s NOT fabulous.  Here’s where you come in, my three faithful readers: I want you to come up with as many F-words (besides the obvious one) as you can.  Fill in the blank: “40 and F_______.”

Make me laugh.  I need cheering up.

SUSIE:  And I’m gonna be 40.

HARRY:  When?

SUSIE:  IN TWO WEEKS!!

Whatever you do, do not, under any circumstances, call me “ma’am.”  I refuse to ever become a “ma’am” no matter what my age.

(I have now entered a self-imposed moratorium on any phrase referring to the upcoming birthday upon which I will enter the 5th decade of life.)

 

 

 

The Non-Smoking Chronicles

Filed under: My Life,Susie's World — SusieWorld @ 6:45 am

You can't fire me. I QUIT!

August 17, 2011.  A date which will live in infamy.  It is the date I underwent hypnosis for the first time. It is the date I had my very last cigarette.

Until today.

Today, I got stressed out.  I caved.  I bought smokes.  I relapsed.  I FUCKED UP.  But don’t worry, I forgive myself.  Because I was able to discover that smoking completely nauseated me.  Yep.  It made me puke.  And I would rather go a lifetime without another cigarette than feel the way I feel right now.  Of course, I’d rather go a lifetime without another cigarette for many other reasons, too, not the least of which is to prove to all the naysayers who never thought they’d see the day come when I could get totally plowed and not have a single drag from a smokie treat.

Yeah, I call them smokie treats.  It’s much more adorable than “cancer sticks.”  And much less of a cliché.

Oh, and I would also like to never, ever hear another person tell me I’m killing myself slowly or that the dangers of secondhand smoke are so powerful, I’m probably killing children in Africa.   It’s not me killing children in Africa, ladies and gents, it’s AIDS.  So stick a sock in it and donate some money to an AIDS charity.  Do it now.  You’ll feel better about yourself.

Just like I feel better about myself for having learned about the power of suggestion and the subconscious mind.  My hypnotist knows his shit.  I also feel better about myself knowing that I can do this.  I can, nay, I DID kick this habit.

So now I have a nearly-full pack of cigarettes and plan on testing myself.  Will I remember this awful feeling I have right now when I get my next craving?  Will I get a next craving at all?  Will that Arrested Development movie ever get made?

I know what you’re all thinking.  “THROW THE PACK AWAY, YOU STUPID BITCH!”  But where’s the challenge in that?  I want to know that I have the ability to light up at any moment but choose not to.

The moral of the story here is obvious: It’s a lot easier to quit smoking if you don’t start in the first place.  And stay in school, kids.

 

5 Things that Raise My Blood Pressure 09/15/2011

Filed under: My Life,Susie's World — SusieWorld @ 2:29 am
  1.  My computer, which decides to ignore me by not responding because I don’t have enough memory. Note to computer: I don’t appreciate this passive-aggressive “silent treatment” you’re giving me.  Also, I don’t have enough memory either.  I forget stuff all the time!  But I never stop responding.  Hey, computer! You’re a jerk!
  2. My family:  All four of us are completely mental.  Of course, I have to make it clear that the rest of them are WAY more mental than I am.  And does being a selfish princess really qualify as mental?  I think not.

Wait.  That’s only 2 things.  Crud.

 

Jodie Foster clearly loves Beaver 03/17/2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — SusieWorld @ 7:53 pm

And I’m not referring to the Theodore Cleaver variety!

If you’re in the Austin, TX area for the South by Southwest Film Festival, you may get the treat of screening The Beaver, starring Mel Gibson, which is Jodie Foster’s directorial non-debut.  For Foster, the festival may be considered the South Bi-Southwest.  Or something.  [Insert better Jodie Foster sexuality joke here.]

According to The Associated Press, the film “follows a depressed toy company executive who pics up a hand puppet beaver and uses it to separate himself from the negative aspects of his personality that are destroying his family and career.”

Jodie apparently approves of good ol’ boy Mel’s anti-semetic remarks.  Enough to consider only him to play HER HUSBAND in the film.  Gibson is typecast as an idiot.  Foster makes the stretch to play hetero.  Which is great for both of them.

How great for audiences this will be remains to be seen.  In the meantime, enjoy this picture of MY beaver:

 

So what’s the percentage?

Filed under: Uncategorized — SusieWorld @ 5:19 pm

 

What's the percentage of shrimp in Taco Bell's "Shrimp?"

 

Taco Bell has announced it’s new line of shrimp-based delicacies, which got me to wondering.  How much of the “shrimp” in Taco Bell’s shrimp menu is actually shrimp?

With the somewhat recent announcement that the “taco flavored beef filling” in Taco Bell’s meaty dishes is advertised as 80% beef, my concern became alarm upon hearing of the new shrimp menu items.

Fortunately for Taco Bell, the majority of its clientele is made up of stoned college students who are sick of Jack in the Box or high schoolers who wouldn’t know nutrition if they had to take a class on it.

I am a carnivore.  But I’m not a fan of eating food that still looks like it did when it was living and breathing.  Thus my affinity for steak, but not trout.   To wit, I should be able to stomach a “shrimp” taco from Taco Bell, since the shrimp really look nothing like shrimp.  Perhaps they’re mostly soy product, like the “taco flavored beef filling.”   You’ve got your Tofurkey, so what to call soy shrimp.  It’s like coming up with a mashup name for celebrity couples.  Shroy?  Simp?

I will gladly accept suggestions!  Please feel free to use the handy-dandy Word Press comment feature to make them.

 

 

 

 

 

In other news…. 03/16/2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — SusieWorld @ 9:55 pm

Muhammad Ali has asked Iran to release the hiker hostages or he’ll go all Muhammad Ali on their asses.  Okay, that last part is made up, but it would sure be cool!  Here’s the story from my favorite local TV news station, KTVU.

Fists of DOOM!

 

James Taylor, having learned nothing from the Kennedys or Sonny Bono, skied himself into a tree, breaking his leg.  Sing to the tune of “I’ve Got You, Babe”:  I can’t ski, babe.  Watch that tree, babe.

I'm sure he'll be showered with love by the people who love him. Or something like that.

 

Millions of stupid Americans are confusing stories about the ongoing tragedy in Japan with the ongoing tragedy that is Charlie Sheen.  “This is the biggest disaster we’ve seen in decades.”  Wait, what?  Who?  Meanwhile, Sheen tells his followers to “love Japan violently.”  Haven’t they been violated enough?

Whatever, loser.

 

Finally, The Guardian made an excellent point the other day with the query “Is the Rock n’ Roll Hall of Fame Running out of Inductees?”  In a word, yes.  That fact becomes more and more apparent every year.  I’m okay with Neil Diamond and Tom Waits, but Alice Cooper is better known for guest starring roles on Wayne’s World and on the golf course, isn’t he?  Plus, he has a GIRL’S name!

School's out for Alice Cooper.

 

 

Identity Thief Strikes in Susieworld! 03/15/2011

Filed under: My Life — SusieWorld @ 8:51 am

Someone recently obtained my credit card information and decided to charge something on it immediately, as every identity thief should.

But MY identity thief was not smart and savvy.  Nope.  Not at all.  Instead of heading straight to VictoriasSecret.com or filling up the tank of her ’79 Datsun, she opted to try and purchase a subscription to Match.com.

Something was amiss, though, and those smarties at Match caught on immediately.  Perhaps they knew I was not so stupid as to join an online dating site as a MARRIED WOMAN.  Or perhaps Ms. Identity Thief just couldn’t figure out the bizarre spelling of the name of my first pet.  For the record, it’s Smokee.  And I never use it as the answer to a security question because it’s also my stripper name.

Ms. Identity Thief also didn’t think that my ever alert husband would take a look at the credit card statement.  Her major error, besides choosing to try and rip me off via flippin’ MATCH.COM, was that she chose to steal the information from my JOINT credit card.  Had she chosen my own card, she’d have had more success and I’d probably be paying overdraft fees up the butt for years to come.

Instead, I was interrogated by my husband who was rightfully curious about a charge I’d allegedly made to join an online dating site.

So, lesson learned.  Hopefully by my attempted identity thief.  Don’t mess with me.  I will hunt you down and make sure you only date the losingest of losers looking for dates on the internets forever and ever.  I hope you don’t go trying to rob a bank using your own deposit slip on which to write the “I’m robbing your bank” note.  But DO believe the teller when she says you have to have an account at that branch in order to rob it.

Oh – and I have a new card in the mail.  I’ll have to change my security question, though, which asks what my stripper name is.

 

Things that should never be Bedazzled

Filed under: Shopping — SusieWorld @ 6:40 am
Tags: ,

1.)    The penis.

2.)    The Bedazzler.  That would be too difficult.

3.)    Pets.  It’s bad enough people put clothes on them!

4.)    Your resume.  Unless you’re applying to work for the makers of the Bedazzler.

5.)    Sporting equipment.  Unless you’re on the All-Gay Softball Team.  Then it’s required.

6.)    Diamond engagement rings. Unless you don’t like    diamonds.  And if you don’t like diamonds, you’re a fool.

7.)    The TV.  The TV is bedazzling on its own.

8.)    Toilet paper.  Need I say more?

9.)    Anything edible.  There are better things to choke on than good food.

10.)  Your face.  Unless it needs that much help.

 

 

Brackets

Filed under: Uncategorized — SusieWorld @ 4:18 am

From The Free Dictionary.

brack·et   (brkt)  n.

1.
a. A simple rigid structure in the shape of an L, one arm of which is fixed to a vertical surface, the other projecting horizontally to support a shelf or other weight.
b. A small shelf or shelves supported by such structures.

2. Architecture A decorative or weight-bearing structural unit, two sides of which form a right angle with one arm flush against a wall and the other flush beneath a projecting surface, such as eaves or a bay window.
3. A wall-anchored fixture for gas or electricity.
4. 

a. A square bracket.
b. An angle bracket.
c. Mathematics See brace.
5. Chiefly British One of a pair of parentheses.
6. A classification or grouping, especially within a sequence of numbers or grades, as a category of incomes sharing the same tax rate.
7. 

a. The distance between two impacting shells, the first aimed beyond a target and the second aimed short of it, used to determine the range for artillery fire.
b. The shells fired in such a manner.
tr.v. brack·et·ed, brack·et·ing, brack·ets

1. To furnish or support with a bracket or brackets.
2. To place within or as if within brackets.
3. To classify or group together.
4. To include or exclude by establishing specific boundaries.
5. To fire beyond and short of (a target) in order to determine artillery range.

See?  Not a single mention of NCAA Basketball.  Weird.

Even the Catholic Church decided a bracket pool would help in choosing the next Pope. It later became clear this method wasn't used when they went with Benedict XVI - a bad decision of Biblical proportions.

 

What to get Wills and Kate for their impending nuptials 03/14/2011

Filed under: Fun with Fotos — SusieWorld @ 4:30 pm

How about this lovely key chain? Everyone needs a place to keep the key to the castle, right?

 

This lovely Zippo lighter would make the perfect gift for the couple who has everything. They may regift it to Harry, though, since he's the one who smokes all the weed.

 

What better place to lay your soggy cocktail glass than on the faces of the Royals?!

 

All products are available for sale at Fancy That of London.  Now get shoppin’!