Friday, May 29, 2009

Vague Descriptions From Amtrak

Mrs. Sizemore: i shall make cake when you visit
you are coming on which day? the 18th?

me: i think so, did i send you the train reservation e-mail?

Mrs. Sizemore: nopes

me: you can has now!

Mrs. Sizemore: yaaaays
Passenger 1: Amber [redacted] (Adult)

me: hahahahaha awesome

Mrs. Sizemore: amtrak tells lies

me: clearly

Mrs. Sizemore: unless they mean adult like, adult adult
x-rated and whatnot

me: right, i'll have to ask ;)

Mrs. Sizemore: Dear Train People,
Please clarify. Are you miscategorizing me, or do you know me all too well?
Thank you,

me: perfect

And Then A Velociraptorbyte.

Me: What's the next biggest unit after a terabyte?
The agent: A pterodactylbyte.

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Amber and The Intern: Bad Wedding Guests

The intern: i had to give a speech at a wedding this weekend - terrifying stuff

Me: no doubt. did you mess up like my friend did? she said "Simone's birthday" instead of "Simone's wedding". We started singing "Happy Birthday" because we are assholes

The intern: haha; that's hysterical; luckily i didn't munson it; i figured if I started to freeze i would just start balling - but it went well so i was relieved

Me: balling like crying or balling like having sex with the nearest female? because that would have been hilarious
unless it was the bride, then not so much

The intern: haha, that might have been a bit awkward
in an awesome way

Friday, May 22, 2009

In Which Amberance Briefly Grows A Pair

You know it's going to be just a stellar night when you have to use the phrase "DO NOT FUCKING TOUCH ME" before 9 p.m.

The whole thing seemed routine enough. It was Thursday night and therefore I was at Tai's having dinner with my roommate watching the Cubs lose and the Penguins win. When a guy came in by himself, shook the bartender's hand and sat down a couple stools away from me I thought nothing of it, because why would I? Apart from the fact that he was wearing his blue tooth earpiece like a fashion accessory he appeared fairly normal. Since this is being posted on Bizzybiz, you already know otherwise.

It became clear pretty quickly that he was completely inebretarded. In the space of twenty minutes he tried to shake the bartender's hand at least a dozen times. He also started in on me, wanting to know if I would play pool with him (no) and if I thought he was attractive (no), and then announcing "Giiiirrrrlll, you are fine!" (I was.) My terse answers, refusal to look at him directly and outright ignoring him did not serve as much of a deterrent.

And then he came over and put his hand on my arm.

Here's the thing with that, and actually there are two: 1) If you don't cut off that behavior immediately in drunks it will escalate until you find yourself being mauled, but more importantly 2) I have a thing about strangers touching me. It is that strangers should not be touching me. At all. Ever. So when this asshat touched my arm I screamed at him. "DO NOT FUCKING TOUCH ME! I am not kidding you." which was followed somewhat anti-climatically by the bartender repeating more calmly "Don't touch her."* This was effective. Temporarily.

Moments later, in came Gene Honda and his dinner. And so the douchebaggery continued. "Dude!" bellowed the shithead. "Shake my hand bro!" By this time Gene had started eating rib tips. Gene explains that he can't shake his hand right then, and also that he is trying to enjoy his dinner. Cockwad ignored this, and continued to try and shake a hand, get a hug, lean on, breathe on and generally irritate the crap out of Gene. The bartender said, "Leave the man alone, he's trying to eat his dinner." I said, "Get the fuck away from him, he's having his dinner." Gene said, "Listen, I don't know who you are. I am not going to shake your hand. I would like to eat my dinner and if you don't leave me alone I'm going to throw a bone at you."

In the meantime, other people started showing up in the bar. A guy came in with his girlfriend and started to shoot pool and two girls appeared and were talking to the bartender. It is these distractions rather than our words that got him away from Gene so that he could eat. Unfortunately for them. From across the room I heard the girlfriend say, "Please don't touch me," and the guy say, "Are you serious? I'm standing right here!"

Gene finished his dinner and we went outside, him to smoke, me because Gene said he's not leaving me in there defenseless. (I love my friends.) While we were outside a small miracle occurred: One of our friends who happens to be a detective for the Chicago PD showed up with his wife. I was ecstatic and promptly glued myself to them. We went back inside and settled in to watch the show fucknuts was putting on. By this point he could barely stand and was speaking Spanish. Another woman walked in alone and someone immediately grabbed her and sat her down with a group of people, probably saving her life. Or at least her sanity.

Jackoff stood alone and surveyed the room, eyes settling on me. In a moment of clarity he appeared to recognized me as the bitch who yelled at him and started lurching toward us, yelling something at me in Spanish and knocking over other people's drinks all the way. People who know me well know that I rarely confront people and even more rarely raise my voice. I am not yelly, and hearing other people yell normally causes me to panic and try to hide in a corner. I don't know if it was the depth of my anger or the presence of the detective standing beside me, but all that went out the window and I snapped. "You have GOT to be kidding me. Are you fucking serious? STOP fucking talking to me." As he took another step toward me I continued, "And if you get any closer to me I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL FUCKING HIT YOU!" I'm pretty sure the people at the gas station across the street heard me. He stood there, grinning stupidly while I stared him down and waited, fully prepared to punch someone in the face for the first time ever in my life (along with the yelling, I also don't hit people). He stumbled backward and spilled a beer.

The bartender had had enough (right about now, or perhaps earlier, you're saying "Why didn't he just throw the shit eating prick out of the bar?" Because it was too early for the bouncers to be there, and the bartender wouldn't have been able to take him out on his own if he'd started fighting). "That's it," he said. "You're done. Get out of here right now." We all stood at the window and watched him leave, bobbing and weaving across four lanes of traffic, miraculously making it to the other side without collapsing or getting hit by a garbage truck...and getting into a truck. The detective and the bartender bolted out the door and across the street before I could finish saying, "No. Way. He is going to kill someone." Eventually, the detective got his keys, the bartender called him a cab, and we bribed the cab driver (who took one look at him and said "I don't want this guy in my cab") to take him to the address we found on his driver's license since he couldn't remember where he lived.

So, all in all, the night was bizarrely entertaining, the detective bought everyone a round, certain death was prevented and I was a total badass for about 12 seconds. Not a bad night. MrSteve lamented to me that he missed all the good stuff, and Fish wanted to know why I get to have all the fun. The answer comes to us from the detective, who broke the stunned silence by quipping "Only at Tai's." Indeed.

Post script: Several hours later, someone dropped off a woman outside who got in the truck and drove it away. His wife.

*It keeps reminding me of the scene in American Pie, with the lacrosse coach yelling at the team and the assistant coach standing behind him mumbling the last thing he said. "CulmiNAtion."

Thursday, May 07, 2009

In America We Celebrate The Failure Of Others. USA! USA! USA!

H-Town: dude - manny ramirez suspended 50 games for testing positive for steroids!

me: BWAHAHAHAHAHA this is the best news I've heard in a week

H-Town: so much for that winning record of the dodgers!

me: this is perfect. he looks even more like a complete douche than his contract holdup bullcrap did

H-Town: 50 games! i just can't believe that

me: i wish it was the whole year.
i am such a horrible person. this makes me so happy

H-Town: that doesn't make you a horrible person

me: no you're right. it makes me a proud american

H-Town: exactly
schaudenfreude may be a german word, but americans can say it
maybe not spell it, but we can say it
speaking of that word, i KNEW that Ms. Calif would have something bad come out about her background
hello naked photos

me: YYYYEEESSSS! What a brilliant day. It makes me want to wrap myself in a flag and hug my freedom

H-Town: hahaha
(think neil diamond) - Nudie pics from far away - they're comin' to America
you think they're gone but they're here to stay....they're comin to America
everyone from 'round the world
they're gonna see your nudie pics
*tempo slows*
My country tis of theee (NUDIES)
sweet land of irony... (NUDIES)
your ass I see (NUDIES)
*rocks out*

me: lolz

Friday, May 01, 2009

Next You'll be Telling Me Sandy Cheeks is a Crack Smoking Pole Dancer.

I like to think that I am not an alarmist, particularly where it comes to kids. I think it must suck for them to not be able to go roller skating without a helmet, elbow and knee pads, I'm not worried that they're all trying to kill themselves by swallowing Duplo blocks and I don't think the world is going to end if they accidentally hear someone say "damn" on tv.

But this?

This is just wrong on so many levels. First of all, The King in and of himself is creepy as all fuck. He is the bizarre love child of Guy Fawkes and a child rapist - he gives ME nightmares and I am (ostensibly) a grown woman. Then there's the dancing hos....are you serious? Stuffing a shoebox down their pants is not fooling anyone, Burger King. We all know you are selling sex to little kids. Congratulations, you have somehow managed to sexualize a beloved, mentally challenged, burger-flipping Porifera. And you, Sir Mix-a-lot. I suppose you really did need the exposure - I actually thought you were dead. It's comforting to know that 17 years after your one hit wonder, you continue to have absolutely no standards*. "Booty is booty"? Yeah right. Crap is crap, but you don't see me running around turning kids meals into disturbing fetish porn, do you?

*It was NOT comforting to look that up and realize that song came out 17 years ago. Thanks for that too, douchebags.

Jenny and Amberance Can't Handle The Hard Stuff (Or Bad Music)

Mrs. Sizemore: vicodin is WEIRD
just a psa

me: um....?
oh, from your tooth

Mrs. Sizemore: yeah
i thought i would be tough and not take it
but that lasted about 4 hours and then i caved

me: yes, my old roommate jim was a big fan of that particular weirdness. mixed with copious amounts of beer and goldschlager

Mrs. Sizemore: oh yikes
i do not want to mix with anything

me: he has a bit of a death wish

Mrs. Sizemore: i keep getting waves of this strange, swimmy feeling
also, i keep crying

me: from the vicodin? i guess that would explain jim's penchant for emo, emo eyeliner


Mrs. Sizemore: blaaah
i officially do not like vicodin
why anyone would use this recreationally is astounding

me: reality is for people who can't handle drugs

Mrs. Sizemore: side effects?

me: of reality? walls staying still, only seeing one of something, inanimate objects do not talk and/or stare at you, no imaginary limbs growing out of your abdomen or flesh melting off your hands, etc.

Mrs. Sizemore: hmm
those are all correct
the side effects of the vicodin are not as pleasant
i am dizzy and hot
and also i keep wanting to cry

me: i would definitely stay away from the Fall Out Boy and My Chemical Romance CDs then