Tuesday, April 29, 2008

Military Boy...Part 2

So I have this fantasy. And not like a sexual fantasy....and not even like my normal fantasy where a bunch of firemen come to a roof deck in Brazil to show me their hoses. Seriously, their hoses, I mean you just can’t even believe how strong the water flow is on those damn things.

But I digress:

So I have been having a fantasy about Military Boy...a “daydream” if you "intellectuals" will.

It goes something like this.

Military Boy gets hurt in Iraq…but not like hurt-hurt, just something small, just something small enough where they have to send him back home. Maybe like gets a pinkie finger blown off or something, something that doesn’t really matter. Or gets appendicitis …yes! That’s it! Needs an appendectomy…or maybe a really bad bladder infection (can dudes get those?).

So he gets this “small injury” and they need to send him home…but not just home, to a hospital…and not to just any hospital...but whatever medical procedure they need to do to him can only be done by the hospital that is a block away from my apartment. Because the only real appendectomies place happens to be across the street. And his family, well his poor family, is out there living in the South, probably miles away from running water and cannot fly to come see him…..

Who is the bitch in the white dress trying to steal my thunder?

So guess who he has to call? …No no, not the girls from Scores... no, he has to call ME ..And I walk into the hospital room, and he is laying there and looks up, and I am like a vision, probably wearing my purple dress with the V-Neck that caused me to max out my Banana Republic card, and it breezes around as I walk in the room, because there is always a light breeze from somewhere.

I spend the whole week with him, caring for him and I bring gifts and fruit and laptops and puppies....And by the time his parents finally arrive at the hospital, I am laying there on the hospital couch, asleep... Exhausted from all the “caring”.

And his parents look over at me and then look at Military Boy and say, “wow, she must be one amazing woman to stay here with you all this time.” And he bows his head and says, “She is Mom…she really is…”

End Scene.

Soooo, I know what you’re thinking…this could really happen…right?

Thursday, April 24, 2008

Someone Please Explain To Me What Is Going On In The World

So this past weekend was so complex it has taken me a few days to digest it all, and not just the whole, tricky-007-shitting part. Although I will address that since I know you are all curious.

Let me first start by easing your minds and saying that I feel sorry for whomever had to clean the bathrooms at the CheeseCake Factory, because essentially that is where two days worth of shitting went down. Well of course, I emerged from the bathroom doing the whole , “My mom called” line, so I was "distracted by the call" yaddy yaddy ya. I don’t even remember what I said, I think it may partly have been in English, and the other part in Zimbabwean, but all I know is I got to shit and it didn’t have to be at his house and that is all that matters to me and Jesus.

Continuing on.

Now in the history of men, I have been thrown a lot of things... things like , “I have to move out to LA for my acting career” (lie) …“My ex girlfriend and I are getting back together” (lie) … “Kim you are just too beautiful and looking directly into your eyes blinds me” (truth) …

But this weekend I think I have officially heard it all.

So the first night, when the movie finally ended, I did what any normal chick from the Northeast would do…I jumped him. Didn’t really give him a choice in the matter, because frankly, who needs choices and opinions? Certainly not the men I date, that is for sure.

Now let us skip ahead to what some may call “Day 2” …or as I like to refer to it, “The Day the World Imploded”.

Let me set the scene:

Laying there. On the bed. He is watching Law and Order. I am switching positions with my legs figuring out in which position do they look the tannest.

So then of course, after about 4 or 5 minutes of nothing, I decide to become Kim the Rapest again and go after him. So I turn over to kiss him….and he stop me. Just stops. Just like that. Like the, “Hold the train Mr. Conductor The Penis Express is making a stop!”

Looks at me and says, “Don’t you feel…you know…guilty about last night?”

Me (looking confused) “Guilty? Umm no…I could find another adjective…like satisfied perhaps?”
Him (looking strained) “No, I mean, because we are not boyfriend/girlfriend…I just think that…..”


Him: “I just think people should only sleep together if they are in a committed relationship.”

Outside-World implodes. Children scream. The heavens burst.

Me: “I’m sorry, what? I think I just hallucinated…what did you say?”

Him: “ I just don’t think its right for us to be sleeping together if we aren’t in a committed relationship yet.”

(Scene ends. Fades to black)

Kim sleeps alone that night.

Can someone explain to me what’s going on? Because now I am questioning the world, the universe, every single disciple…what in the name of tomfoolery just happened here??

Before you respond though I will give you two details of backstory, he is southern and in a military branch. Does this change things? Does this make me less of a whore? Does this make me more of a whore? Does this mean we really do know how much wood a wood chuck could chuck if a wood chuck could chuck wood?

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Watch! Magazine...and Other Things You Will Buy

Go pick up CBS' Watch! Magazine today! It can be found at any major magazine stand...located next/near/around the TV Guides. Then shove any small children or people in wheelchairs out of the way to get you copy!

(hint: click on the picture below to make it large enough to read.)

I don't want to get your emails saying... "Kim, what is this, a center for ants?!"

Thursday, April 17, 2008

Shit'on, We Have A Problem

So I am going to see a boy this weekend. A real live boy. Not even an imaginary one I made up in my head. I will be staying with him in his house...yes, house...that he owns. I know I know, us city folk have no concept of 'homes' or 'owning' ...he told me has a lawn, and that actual animals live there, like squirrels and birds and what not. I am confused by this whole "lawn" thing, so I asked, "you mean the gated area where homeless people sleep?" And he said, "no", that there are actually no homeless people sleeping on his lawn. Odd. I found this to be an interesting concept.

Regardless I am getting distracted from the real point of this conversation. The point being that I am going to be living, eating , sleeping at his place for three whole days, there arising one very important question. A question pertaining to the meaning of life and Jesus and God and what-have-you...and that is....where am I going to shit?

Honestly. Where? I am going to have to go undercover and be the 007 of all shitting. He can't know that I shit! He just can't! What will he think of me?!

So I have started to route out maps and plans in my head. Plans of possible "shitting times" and "shitting areas". All so that it can do down in complete secrecy.

Let us start with restaurants. I figure anytime we eat out, go to Starbucks, ect...that is a perfect time for me to tell him I have to use the bathroom. Like maybe tell him I have to go 'powder my nose'. For real. Men still fall for that 'nose powder' line right? Or wait, is that only cocaine users? See, fuck, I am screwing up the Shitting Plan already!

The other option is right before I take a shower. I an have the water running and the scents from my shampoo are likely to fumigate away any trace of actual shitting to have occurred. But herein lies problem #1- What if he asks to join me in the shower? What the fuck do I do then?! Tell him I have a no shower buddy policy? Tell him he doesn't want to see my massive burn wounds? Hmm, I have to work on this one.

Problem #2 lies in the fact that I am a serial toilet clogger. For real, I can clog any well plumb'ed (is that a word?)toilet across any Continent. There is not a single toilet I have yet to overflow. So do I bring a plunger with me? Stick it in my carry on just to be on the safe side? What if airport security open my bags and want to know why I have an industrial strength plunger with me? What if I am arrested for trying to bring an industrial plunger on the plane and The Boy has to come pick me up from the airport in handcuffs and then they will tell him my entire shitting-life-story?!

Seriously, I am starting to lose sleep over this whole shitting thing. I am starting to think it's best if I just stop eating today and only resume eating after the trip to avoid shitting all together...

Monday, April 14, 2008

Meeting of the Minds

My Sober Mind and My Drunk Mind

have a conversation:

Sober Mind: Wow this bar kinda of sucks, it's not very crowded, there isn't even anyone here that is that good looking..

Drunk Mind: What are you talking about lady?! I just passed three hotties on my way to the bar!

SM: Um are you talking about the two French Canadians wearing Wayne's World t Shirts and their mom?


SM: grab a what..ok stop, seriously stop, put your hands down, I don’t think throwing your hands up in the air in a fit of joy is going to get you anyone…no no, stop dancing, I don’t think there is a dance floor here...

DM: But they are playin my music!

SM: They are playing Rod Stewart.

DM Exactly.

SM: (sigh)

DM: And what are you talking about Ladymarmalade?! There’s a dance floor right here, and I can tell that hot guy is looking at me from across the room... he wants THIS...

SM: That is a lesbian.

DM: Think I should go dance with him?

SM: ahh, no, that is definitely a lesbian.

DM: A thespian? I fucking love actors! I am going to make my way over there…are you coming with me?

SM: Coming with you where? You are sitting on the floor. You can’t sit on the floor you know…

DM: Floor shmore I’m just takin a nap, just a little damn nap, no one will notice me under this stool…

SM: You cant sleep under this stool, and that dude at the bar asked if you could stop petting his leg.

DM: hmmm interesting thought... then what will I lay my head on?

SM: How about we go home?

DM: Ahh yes, let’s go home, but first let me grab the hottie in the corner and bring him with us...

SM: the lesbian?

DM: ahh yes, that will do.

Friday, April 11, 2008

Friday's Deep Thoughts

So I figured on this warm, sunny Friday I would do a special post that is near and dear to my heart...called Things I Hate. I tried to think of a more creative title for that but 'When Snow White Feeds Animals and is Happy Living with Seven Sober Men' didn't fit in the title as well.

So now let us begin:

I am not oh-so-fond of the whole 'living things' surrounding me. Things that suck
up all my air and steal my water. I am not a fan of the whole "Birds" and "trees"
and things "that are beautiful and green". I enjoy nature right where it should be... in fake soil at the mall's atrium.


Now I agree with what you are thinking, which is, Kim,this is quite an obvious one! I mean listen, sometimes I just don't need their happy smiling faces on people under the age of 21 trying to "change the world" and other bullshit like that. I prefer my children to be in a gated mall atrium as well.



Somewhere in the bible Jesus is quoted as saying something along the lines of , "People in love will be killed by a thunderbolt!" Now you can go ahead and try and correct me if you think I am wrong, but listen , Jesus and I are tight, and I know that even if he didn't get that quote mentioned in there, I know he was thinking it.


The scene in the Lion King when they sing Circle of Life and present the baby

Now I don't know about you, but this does not make me cry, this doesn't even give me tingles all over my entire body (especially my knees) ...and not only that but it doesn't even give me tingles and make my eyes well up with hot tears when I am staring at simply this picture right now. Damn you LION KING! DAMN YOU!


ahh....Did I mention Children?


Want to know what I want to see when I look out my back window? Asphalt. Lots and lots of asphalt. And possibly a homeless person sleeping on it, or some chalk outline bodies...or maybe even trash, how about some good ol' trash? When I look out my window and I see cement and a person frozen to concrete.... I know I am home.

Sunday, April 6, 2008

Apparently there is something called the “WORLD WIDE WEB”

“Kim have you heard of the new thing out there I believe it's called L O A? “

“ you mean AOL?"

  • It frightens me now that Facebook has a suggestion box called , “People you MAY know.” the hell does Facebook know I might know these people? ...Listen to me Mr. Facebook, you don’t know nothin' about who I MIGHT know.
  • I am bothered by Itunes now making suggestions as to what artist or song I am looking for. The minute I start typing in the search box it makes guesses for me, such as when I typed in “AM” it started flashing, did you MEAN Amy Winehouse? America’s Next Top Model? Amy Adams? America?...How about you stop damn rushing me ITunes? What, you got plans or something to do so you feel like rushing me? You got some big Itunes orgy to attend to after this that? Or some Itunes Tupperware party you're late for? Stop friggen rushing me, I don’t like humans completing my sentences, let alone computer programs with 7.0 frames.
  • Why does Kaza keep coming back to me like a bad ex boyfriend? I know it does bad things to my hard drive, infecting it with viruses I cannot rid of, so why do I keep going back? I keep deleting it, telling Kaza to just stay away from me, but sure enough months later , I can't seem to find the new Britney single and I know Kaza has it, I can just feel it, I know getting back with it will only give me yet another virus I cant get rid of, but I always tell myself, just one night, I will just do it for one night and then never again. Fuck you Kaza! Fuck you and you’re huge…umm…song selection!
  • Why is MySpace the most ghetto website on the web?MySpace is like that trashy friend you keep around just to make you feel better about yourself..."well hey life isn't so bad, Krystal just got pregant by her cousin!" Myspace is for everyone who never went to school, works as a hairdresser and strips on the weekends GhettoSpace has become so old news I had to delete mine. I couldn’t even stand to get comments anymore, people would comment on my page and I would get angry just looking at them, all I could think was “comments are so 2006!” And why do people who are in relationships write on each other's pages? "Hey George too bad you couldn’t get it up last night, but I really am impressed with your HTML skills!”

Friday, April 4, 2008

The Weekend'ers Deep Thoughts's the weekend?

My young son asked me what happens after we die. I told him we get buried under a bunch of dirt and worms eat our bodies. I guess I should have told him the truth - that most of us go to Hell and burn eternally - but I didn't want to upset him.”
Jack Handy quote

Tuesday, April 1, 2008


I don’t know if many of you 'basic humans’ out there know about my serious psychic ability. There have been times that my ESP has come out of nowhere…like yesterday when I had this odd craving for peanut butter and I opened the cabinet and sure enough my roommate had bought a jar of peanut butter. Or there was the even freakier time when I had a feeling my ex boyfriend was about to dump me and just moments later police were pulling me from outside of his bushes telling me how I should have “read” the restraining order a little more closely.

But today I am going to bless you all with my psychic abilities and do all of your horoscopes, because that is the kind of fucking generous person that I am …



That is actually's a armpits are pretty hairy

Aries March 21 - April 19

You have serious promise this week to eat. And not to just eat, but to eat actual food. To put it in your mouth and taste it. And then swallow it. And then to take a huge shit.

Taurus April 20 - May 20

The moon and the stars align themselves and you will find yourself laughing and laughing…until you look at yourself in the mirror and say, “What the fuck are YOU laughing at?” and realize that maybe it’s time to stop snorting your percoets.

Gemini May 21 - June 21

Some say that you have complete control over your own destiny..This week you will have complete control over the Duane Reade Photobooth attendant...named Destiny.

Cancer June 22 - July 22

A lover will test your limits this week…and you will find that maybe dressing up as Dorothy Mantooth bent over a metal table chair isn’t as difficult as originally thought.

Leo July 23 - August 22

This week when people tell you to feel the warmth in your heart....let them feel the warmth in you right palm and punch them in the fucking face.

Virgo August 23 - September 22

You feel that big changes are in store for you..... I see sock changes, underwear changes and even pant changes.

Libra September 23 - October 23

Some people have a way with the opposite sex…you have a way with cage animals and low-grade lighting.

Scorpio October 24 - November 21

This week you will find yourself completely submerged…it will be hot water pouring all over you and some people might call it a “shower”.

Sagittarius November 22 - December 21

Always remember two thorns in a bush is like a stone in hand and a stone …wait…what? What the fuck does that mean?

Capricorn December 22 - January 19

You will find yourself in silent reflection…in the mirror taking new MySpace pictures of yourself because you’re such a douche.

Aquarius January 20 - February 18

Some people tell you this week they will help you get through tough times…ask them where they were last week during your four-day constipation.

Pisces February 19 - March 20

The moon aligns with the earth this week to provide you with two important things…"daytime”..and “nighttime”.