Go Potty.

It's day 2 of semi-unemployment and i'm so f-ing bored. I guess I will abuse the existence of this blog and ( lack of followers) to fill some of my valuable time. Half my day is spent convincing myself that going to Suzie Cakes and sampling every flavor of cupcake is NOT a good idea. This mental battle goes on every hour or so and is usually followed by the struggle to convince myself not to go innocently browse the racks of Crossroads, and that I absolutely CAN live without a pedicure. Gees, what is it with us girls and spending money we don't have.

There are only 2 people in this world who know about the "Go Potty" lady, and for all the rest of you, I am glad that you are not involved in possibly one of the most annoying daily occurrences of my life. Every morning, somewhere in the relm of 6-9 am the angry lady next door takes her tiny little dog outside to go pee. Now keep in mind that in my head this lady is some sort of a mix between Mommy Dearest and Cruella Devile. Instead of letting the little thing sniff around for a few seconds, decide where it would like to mark that morning's territory and go about its business, she stands there and says repeatedly, in the most abrubt, rude, abnoxious, earth shattering voice "Go Potty. Go Potty. Go Potty. Go Potty. Go Potty....." over and over and over until the thing pees. Now let me tell you, when you are trying to sleep it seems like she does this for 20 minutes. In reality, it's probably about a minute straight but my god, do i hate that minute.  She is doing it right now and has been going for as long as it has taken me to write this entire paragraph, which is why i brought it up in the first place. One day I hope someone stands in her bathroom and says go potty over and over again. See how she likes it.

I guess it's about time dish out $90 for some quality eye care at WalMart. Yes, they have eye doctors....right by register 10. I just realized how straight out of Idiocracy that is;  up next: gatorade spraying out your neighborhood sprinklers.

Self-Titled Debut

Last night during one of our embarassingly frequent yogurtland pow-wows a brilliant fellow by the name of Joseph Stapleton made a fabulous suggestion that I start a blog dedicated to my dear Brandon's, shall we call them, Cohen-isms. Little speck's of careless brilliance blurted out by Mr. Cohen holding no other purpose but to provide us with cheek-aching laughter at his expense.

His rebutle: "whatever guys, it's a good thing i have stick skin."

And thus we have the definition of these oh-so-unintentional verbal bollocks.... saying a word that sounds like the right word but definitly not the right word.

From here on out I will make a valiant effort to post only the most hilarious of these occurances. If you have any to contribute, the board is open for comments.

Yesterday Brandon asks me if I want to go out for some lunch. I say yes I'm starving. Where do we go you ask? Ralph's. Well technically, it was the parking lot. Enjoyed a nice gourmet spread of tuna poke and garbage salad globbed in ranch as we sat in the car and watched Iron Man on the iPhone.

Unbeatable view of 17th st. Costa Mesa, really.

Ooooooh the sweet life.

Until next time.... or next -ism, whichever comes first.