Category Archives: Philadelphia

Hurricane Sandy and lotsa fuckin’ candy


Oh hey! There was hurricane throughout the East Coast from Sunday to Tuesday of last week. Did you hear about this? Gotta tell you, I ignored every single news report of it because my evil Canadian overlord (see: my job) almost assuredly wouldn’t close. I prepared for the hurricane as the best little You Life I could be. I went to the dollar store and got the essentials:

cat food – look at how fucking terrified that cat is, also 30% protein? Amazing. Cat litter – for cartoon animals

And diet coke.

Sunday night I was lounging when I got a call that indicated that the East Coast was going to fall into the ocean: my office was closed. Perhaps I should have purchased a candle? Nope – let the rains come.

The beginning of the hurricane stay-vaction

On Monday I woke up to a gray sky, but nothing that indicated to me that the gods’ were wrathful. After waking up, going back to sleep, waking up again, and then trying to make a cup of coffee from an espresso machine that I forgot I stole from a cunty ex-roommate I was up. Starving. Bored.

So I assessed the following two things: the secret reserves in the apartment

This is for the end times. The secret storage of candy, syrup, and strawberry fluff

And how it looked outside:

Let’s be frank. There is only so much reading, movie watching, hobby-doing, and masturbating that a person can do in one day. At around two I had enough. I left the apartment to walk to get food. Nothing was open. So then, I did what any adult would do.

I went to see how terrifying the playground was during the hurricane

Shortly after going on the swings a police officer drove by and gave me a very stern tongue lashing pertaining to the idiocy of wandering around during a storm.

Returned home.

Sent this text message to my best friend after the lights started flickering:

“I better not have to wank off by candle light” (it would be like jerking off during Little House of the Prairie times. I want to crank it with all of the modern amenities).

Hunger took over. So I did what I needed to do…

I defrosted the chocolate bunnies from Easter, seven months earlier, and covered them in Cupcake magic shell for dinner

Sadness. Utter sadness.

Finally a friend without power came over with the barest of cooking supplies (defrosted chicken thighs, a mini pan, rice, and rum). Seeing as how I don’t own any of the following: cooking oil, a pot, utensils, or a pan it was going to be a trial to cook both the chicken and rice. But, since I am a bit of a fucking wizard I made an entire meal using the smallest frying pan known to man and an iron skillet that was so large that it could have cooked me. I steamed the rice in the skillet with a pizza box. INDUSTRIOUSNESS.

While cooking this a Queen song played in the background. What is covering the bitty frying pan? A metal pizza “stone” …rust side up.

Tuesday:

Tried to sleep in. With great success

Played SNES for hours

In the battle for Kirby dominance I told Happy Brother Senior to eat an entire bag of dicks and finished the victor.

And then it all de-evolved after the second entire day without leaving the apartment. It de-evolved into me creating this “mojito” mix that I think was a code for rat poison. It called to fill a plastic bucket with warm water, this neon green powder, and rum. Later on that day I could be found amongst the piles of VHS tapes in my apartment, eating the slushy poison out of a bucket, dancing to the last song from the credits in Legend.

No seriously, Tangerine Dream is fucking out of this world amazing.

And that is how I survived.

Because I was fine. And my love was strong enough.

Hearts, and flowers, and posi vibes to those not as ridiculously fortunate as me.

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Filed under apartment, Booze, cooking, food, friends, movies, music, Philadelphia, work

How I defend myself

It should come as no surprise, give my penchant for Napoleon complex like antics, that I am short. Super short. Really fucking small.

five foot shawty assassin

 

And when you are this damn small, with a habit to get into so much trouble, it’s essential that you learn how to defend yourself when the going gets hostile. My method, since childhood, has been emulation of the moves of professional wrestlers.

I’ve been to two professional wrestling events since my childhood – I wish this was a joke, but that is a Bret Hart shirt from the Holiday Hell Tour in the early 90s. Eat it hipsters and long for my un-ironic ironic WWF swag

 

So, if you are feeling, say, threatened on your birthday, what should you do? Um…the Million Dollar Dream. Obviously. And you should do this after drinking several pints of home brew outside of bar- unwashed, following a Kool & the Gang sing-a-long.

Get your back up off the wall, do wrestling moves, come on!

Now you can defend yourself!

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Filed under beer, birthday, Booze, friends, Philadelphia

Magic School Bus

It is my gift; It is my curse: my face.

While waiting for the 95 bus to take me to my (grownup) job today something happened. Something mystical. Something that teetered that fine line between joy and sorrow.

Not one, but two, school buses stopped to pick me up within the course of an hour.

This picture taken mere moment before the great school bus incident of 2012

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Filed under cranky, horrifying, Philadelphia, public transportation

Life imitating…well not art, but it is imitating something on this blog

I started this blog as a response to the good intentions of people that run blogs and post about their perfect perfect lives. It’s kind of insane that monetary exchange has been made based off of faceless people being voyeurs.

There has never been a moment of my life where I thought, “I would love to see how fucking awesome this stranger’s life is. ” I’ve never wanted to marvel over this internet mirage’s abilities to find so much time in the day to knit a cat litter cozy, applique some glitter to ugly thrift store clothing, and photograph seven million pictures of them kissing their mate. Because of two things:  1. I am insecure and 2. I don’t like feeling happy for other people. I would much prefer to make fun of other people. Hence this right here.

However, while I do love pointing out the various absurdities of my life, I am beginning to think that there might be some karmic retribution for taking such joy at hating those lifestyle blogs so much:

Come ON!

I know that some of my actions are condemnable…but does my apartment have to be as well?

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Filed under crafts, cranky, horrifying, Philadelphia

How to cure a hangover

Here is my fail safe way to get rid of those pesky hangovers.

It will involve a Philadelphia classic: Lee’s Hoagie House (check it!)

http://www.leeshoagiehouse.com/locations.htm

Menu for the Janie Cure™: pepperoni cheese steak, hot sauce, cheese fries, diet Coke (aspartame!), Gatorade, cats

Call it quits on this day, you’re stayin’ home.

 

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Filed under Booze, cats, cranky, Philadelphia

Irish…eat your children

I love how holidays are documented on other lifestyle blogs. They’re cute as hell and the blogger is forever making some holiday themed craft. Go them! And the next day (or sometimes even a play-by-play while the holiday is happening) a thousand little instagram pictures are birthed and displayed all over the fucking internet.

Happy Easter!

But, since I have finally re-covered from my hangover, this is about my St. Patrick’s day…you will notice that the lives of my mates are also quite magical…

We do fanatically adorable and interesting things:

Like playing “chicken.” There are no winners

Or…this?

I honestly have no clue. At this point of the evening I had thrown a bottle of whiskey at an abandoned asbestos factory, and was then convinced that I had killed a bird in the process. My friends told me it was more likely a kitten that was killed.

I don’t even know what this is, but it’s pissing horrifying.

Hmmm. sweating a bunch in this horrifying photo that looks like the beginning of a snuff film. By this point of the evening I had taken a disco nap and woke up to find these shenanigans (hey! It is St. Patrick's Day) going on in the kitchen.

And then the next day you take a picture of what poverty looks like.

In this case it looks like pretzels for lunch and the many many many packets of McDonald’s ketchup that I ended up stealing…when I stole the entire condiment rack. And then got asked to never return to McDonald's hallowed establishment

 

Happy holidays, from my friends to you!

 

 

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Filed under beer, friends, horrifying, Philadelphia