A Belated Valentine To Angelina

My Most Beautiful Angelina,

I realize this Valentine letter comes a day late. Forgive me. Let that in no way be a reflection of my deep and amourous feelings for you.

I am supposing that you are quite busy with your brood of multi-colored children at this point, as well as a less-than-tidily groomed Brad Pitt. I hear also that you have had adventures of directing as of late- I am sorry to say that I was unwilling to drive 100 miles to the nearest theatre that was exclusively showing  the fruits of your directorial debut. That too mustn’t be a reflection of the affection I harbor in my heart for you.

I was just wondering, if you could find the time in your busy amazing life, if you would consider being my Valentine? I would find it most exciting to sit next to you on my couch and perhaps hold your veiny man-like hand, even for a moment. If you prefer, I would be willing to cook you some Kraft macaroni-n-cheese while wearing heels and an apron. (Although that seems to have the opposite effect that I intend, so maybe we will forego that)

I have long found you breathtakingly beautiful. I would like to point out that I adored you long before the rest of the world- before the multiple marriages to the revolting Billy Bob and before the make-out incident with you brother made people believe you were nuts, (I believe you were just suffering from temporary insanity; either that or you acquired some REALLY GOOD drugs) I was there. I spent hours watching your movies Hackers and Playing By Heart, though I must admit that I couldn’t make it the entire length of your clearly mis-chosen Cyborg 2. Also, your portrayal of Gia was heartbreaking and stellar- despite the fact that I was slightly disturbed that they had such an unattractive blonde playing your girlfriend.

I admire you greatly for all the work you do in countries that you are not from. Also, what a great influence you have been on Brad. (Regardless of the influence you’ve been on his looks.) I have no doubt that if he was still with Jennifer, they would be floating around Hollywood in their own self-absorbed bubble. Instead, you have gotten Brad to think of someone other than his formerly-beautiful self. For that, you deserve a kiss. I would be more than willing to administer said kiss, if you are unable to find a more worthy Kiss Donor.

Despite the fact that in recent years you have become increasingly gaunt, I still find you attractive. For some reason, the men in Minnesota seem to find you scary and unalluring- which I find strange considering the fact that men in Hollywood OBVIOUSLY find you as appealing as I do. The fact that you portrayed my favorite gaming heroine Lara Croft may have a little something to do with my fixation for you.

I well understand your need for  numerous children, as I have had the same need for many years. Sadly, I have not yet reached Sexual Icon Status as you have, so I lack the funds to provide the proper number of nannies required for such a family. Perhaps you could just share yours? I don’t see why another mom for your children wouldn’t be an idea you would relish. The more the merrier, right?

It is my greatest wish, (aside from giving Chris Meloni a booby squish and maybe more) to have you as my Valentine this year.  If you would be willing to let go of Brad for the day, (or forever) I would gladly take his place. (And look better doing it)

XOXO,

Sparklebumps

Fat Ass

So I was going about my business last night at work trying to get my shit done and get the hell outta there, when Little Miss Attitude (the 18 year old manager who sucks ass that I fully intend on taking all managerial hours from) started a conversation with me.

Sidenote: Little Miss will talk to ANYONE, even me who is almost completely unresponsive to her voice, simply because I do not wish to have my ears assaulted by imbecility. She also lacks the knowledge of a 4th grader, believing Asia is a country- but we will not get started on that.

Little Miss: So I burned 356 calories before work, plus I did a bunch of crunches, and I might work out when I get home.

(For your informations, she also ate 4 meals during her 7 hours shift)

Me: *refusing to state what I just did above*

Little Miss: Do you work out?

Me: Nope. I hate excercise and there are many other things I’d rather waste my time doing.

Little Miss: Wait. Do you like your body?!

(This question was asked in such a way that there is no doubt in my mind that she was implying that I shouldn’t like my body.)

Me: It has it’s good days and bad days, but my clothes still fit and I still have people begging to touch my body.

Little Miss: Well, clothes will always fit. It just depends how big you want your clothes to be.

(Apparently my size is completely offensive to this little bitch, and she is not going to desist in commenting so.)

For some more of your informations, this chic comes to work in a size 7 pants, when she should actually be wearing a size 11. (Which is what I wear) This is a constant source of conversation amongst the employees when she isn’t around, because the squeezing of her fat into too-small of pants makes her look as though she is a balloon on the verge of popping. I, on the other hand, wear the size of pants that actaully FIT me, and do not look like my body is made of plastic-encased pudding.

As I no longer deemed Little Miss’s comments worthy of response, I went about my business once more, but I continued to ponder what she said. This is my un-edited rethought response to her question- “Do you like your body?”  :

My upper arms may look better in a shirt with cap sleeves than sleeveless, but they are able to carry my 85 lb. almost-stepdaughter into bed when she falls asleep in my lap. They are also able to carry 100+ boxes of books up a flight of stairs without any help. They are also capable of giving amazing hugs.

My ass may not fit perfectly in a pair of low-rise jeans, and it may not look like a Victoria’s Secret model’s in a pair of lacy thongs, but it’s just the right size for my Rockstar to have something to grab onto when he’s feeling frisky, and just looking at it drives my boss insane with desire.

My thighs may be the size of Arnold Schwarzzenegger’s torso, but I can proudly take any buff dude to the gym and kick his ass on the squat-thrust machine. They also have faded stretch marks from when I was a chubby kid, but that just reminds me that I’m not as awful looking as I used to be.

My boobies may not be as perky as Pamela Anderson’s implanted ones, but they are still more than a handful for any guy, and I don’t need a Wonderbra to make cleavage because I have more than enough naturally.

My twat (I love that word!) may be “fat” and too completely capable of getting camel-toe, but the surprised response of “You’re so tight!” seems like the one a girl would want to hear.

My calves may look like they belong to an Olympic weight-lifter, but they look great in heels and a skirt, and these legs of mine can walk me to California, or Antarctica,  if a Zombie Apocalypse ensues and we run out of gas.

My lips may not be Angelina-esque, but they are just the right size to keep bullshit and idiocy from falling out of my mouth.

My hands may be calloused, and I will never be able to be a hand model, but they prove that I can work hard and I don’t expect someone else to take care of me (although that would be very nice). The fingers on my hands are surprisingly short and child-like, but I bet your fingers cannot bring people to tears by playing Beethoven’s Grande Sonata.

My shoulders may look like a line-backer’s. but they are just the right size for an 85 lb. 9 year old to sit on.

My neck may not be long and slender, but it’s strong enough to hold up my skull, which encases the most important part of me- my genius brain. This brain is capable of great imaginings, and is full of trivial facts- one of which is that Asia is, in fact, NOT a country.

Yes, I like my body. So there.

Former Studs and the Women Who Ruined Them

For some odd reason, while I was saucing and cheesing at working today, I began thinking of famous men who were completely wetty-inducing BEFORE they were savagely ruined by women. Here are a few examples:

Blake Shelton and Miranda Lambert: Blake first came to my attention when his first album came out. Although I had no clue what he looked like, his songs They played on the radio caught my interest, and I thought, “Hey. This guy could be a great songwriter.” Then when a little song called Nobody but Me hit the charts, I was a goner. I happened to see the video for it, and despite the fact the Blake sported a semi-mullet (which he graciously covered with a cowboy hat), I found him to be irresistable.

Then came Miranda. Sadly, I believe Miranda has been ruined by their relationship too, because before Blake, she sang good songs. Now- not so much. I believe Blake was the modern-day Samson, and when Miranda talked him into cutting his hair, I believe the stylist cut his talent away with it. Now Blake no longer sings about skinny dipping with hot girls; he only sings about how God gave him Miranda. And I am convinced the loss of his hair has made his eyes bug out of his head, because I can no longer watch him sing without getting creeped out.

Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes: I realize that Tom was probably a bit over the edge long ago. (Thank you, Scientology) but you never saw him jumping on a couch or asking to eat his baby’s placenta BEFORE Katie, did you? I rest my case.

Tim McGraw and Faith Hill: Yet another country star lost to the evil wiles of a woman. Before Faith, Tim was HOT. I liked it, I loved it, and I definitely wanted more of it. I don’t know what it is about a man in a cowboy hat singing Don’t Take the Girl, but when he sings it now with the “fashionable” beret I’m sure Faith picked out, I want to change the words to “Please take the girl.” I bet he doesn’t even OWN a cowboy hat anymore. I suppose he is still sexy in a stylish, preppy-boy sort of way, but I like my men rugged.

Brad Pitt and Angelina: I hate to say it, because Angelina is my hero, but DAMN! The man has aged. Is it because he spends all his time worrying about Angie and her male co-stars and what they may be doing? (Just remember, Brad. Karma is watching) I’m sure having six kids to chase doesn’t help.  I miss the days of a shirtless Brad with flowing hair and women killing themselves because of their love for him. Now, those days are just legends of the fall.

Ashton Kutcher and Demi Moore: I will admit, I never understood the allure of him in the first place, except for I found him to be very sweet and funny in Just Married. I no longer find him so. Perhaps if he showered once or twice this year, the fire would be re-kindled. Also, he is one of the only men who actually looks better with short hair…

Tommy Lee and Pamela Anderson: I realize he was a slob long before Pamela, but then he was just acting like a Rockstar. And you never heard about his Hep C before her…

Freddie Prinze Jr. and Sarah Michelle Gellar: You are probably saying, “Who?!” My point exactly. The bitch is keeping him all to herself.

I could go on, but it just makes me sad. My fear is that if I marry my Rockstar, he will somehow magically become one of the Studs That Used to Be.

Things I’m Thankful For

Since this is kind of a jacked- up Thanksgiving, (I’ll post about that after I eat pizza) this will be a little harder than I thought.

Music- because without it the voices in my head would be confusing me. Instead, they sing, and that’s not so bad.

My Rockstar- because without him, I would never have understood the term “Making love”, and he cleans off my car when it snows, which no one has ever done for me before.

My Rockstar’s Daughter- because without her, I would never know what it’s like to be an evil stepmother. The one in Cinderella is really misunderstood…

Candy- because without it, I would never come close to orgasm because of food.

My Readers- because without you, I would just be some 30 yr-old writing a diary, and that’s kinda pathetic.

Shoes- because without them, my outfits would never look as good as they do.

God- because without Him, I would have killed myself years ago; now I realize He just likes to fuck with me, and it keeps my life… interesting.

Church- because without it, I would never get to hear, “We LOVE your music! Thank you so much!” Also, I get my fill of hugs for the week in less than an hour.

Work- because without is, I could never afford shoes. And it’s good to be useful sometimes.

Books- Because without them, I would really be so much dumber.

Chris Meloni- because without him, I wouldn’t have a celebrity crush other than Angelina, and Chris is really aging so much more gracefully.

My Square-haloed People- I will give an explanation. My pastor described square- haloed people as angels on earth. They are the people that make me feel that I’m worth knowing.

OK, I guess that’s all for now. I loves you all and have a great holiday, my fellow Americans.

Do I Have That “Thing”?

No, this is not a post to declare to the world that I possess a penis, because I certainly do NOT, and anyway, if I did, I would know it and wouldn’t be asking you people. This is a simply a post to wonder about what gives someone that special “something”, that je ne se qua, that x-factor, that makes them irrestistable to people?

My first example would have to be Marilyn Monroe. Who in the world (at least the world not including third-world countries) does not recognize that sexual icon who was the first to grace the cover of Playboy? Hef obviously thought Marilyn had “it”. John Dougherty, Joe DiMaggio, Arthur Miller, Marlon Brando, and John and Robert (Kennedy) obviously agreed. From everything I’ve read, she was a sweety who just wanted to be loved, so was that the “thing”? Or was it the fact that she wasn’t a size zero and had some nice sweater meat? Because it certainly wasn’t her acting ability that was “it”.

Next on my list is Megan Fox. (Here I would like to state that Megan Fox is completely lovely, but there are many others I would put on the most beautiful list first.) Does anybody (men) remember anything else about the original Transformers movie? My Rockstar certainly doesn’t. I think it’s safe to say that Megan has quite a following, even though she does half-assed movies where she is a circus freak with wings(Passion Play), and bizarre movies where she eats dudes, (Jennifer’s Body, which WAS written hilariously), and so I ask, is it because pretty much the first glimpse the world got was of her bending over a shitty Camaro? I wonder. (Do her creepy toe thumbs mean NOTHING to you people?!)

Angelina. Yes, Ok, so I’ve mentioned Angelina before, and from asking around, most men find her a bit scary and NOT possessing of the “Thing”. But she DID become somewhat of an icon, whether you want to admit it or not. So I think she has “it”. (Perhaps it is due to the stellar sex scenes she did in Original Sin and Taking Lives.) And sadly, for whatever reason I cannot upload a pic of Angelina for you.

Chris Meloni has that “Thing”. And I don’t know what it is.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Anyhoo, I got to thinking about this whole je ne se qua thing because I’ve had my share of followers (mainly the desperate and eerie) and I don’t really understand why. I admit that I’m not the ugliest ape in the zoo, but I am far, far from the prettiest. I am absolutely NOT photogenic, so I don’t fit in with the 4 lovelies I’ve mentioned above, and I can be quite lippy, so I wouldn’t think most men would appreciate that either. This may sound completely presumptuous and full of myself, but when my new boss Christophe tell me I “ooze sex appeal”, I’m going to wonder what made him say that. It may be the fact that “oozing” anything makes me sound like I suffer from a venereal disease, but I just really would like to know what gives someone, the “Thing”, because I would never in a million years say I have “it”. If you ask me, the only thing I’ve got is a pair of DDD’s.

Chicken Strips Rule and Other Reasons Why

I decided to write this post when I found myself snarfing down left-over KFC at 5:30 this morning.

Why chicken strips rule: not only are they essentially the only food a restaraunt can’t screw up, the fact that you don’t have to check first to make sure you’re not going to take a giant bite of chicken fat makes them very appealing. And as I’m trying to pull chicken off the bone, I can’t help but start to think, “This used to have a head.”

Why I no longer care to go to the movie theatre: because people are assholes. I myself prefer to go to a movie during a matinee, so as to avoid the screaming masses. (which makes me even more upset that my theatre doesn’t have daytime showings during the school year.) So you can understand my utter dissatisfaction when I go into an empty theatre, find a spot where nobody usually likes to sit, and then have some ass-hat come and sit in the seat RIGHT behind me. In theatre with even only 100 seats, if there is only one other person sitting there, what possesses these people to sit so close? Are they feeling lonely? Are they sitting near in case they become frightened during the movie and wish to be consoled? (even though the movie is Mamma Mia) and I cannot tell you how many times I’ve wanted to turn around and shove that bag of candy that they’re rustling so far up their ass that it comes out their face. And being that open-mouthed eating is my biggest pet peeve (more on that another time), what a coincidence it is that these same inconsiderate jack-holes are chomping the noisiest thing to listen to being eaten, popcorn. Therefore, I stay home and pay for Netflix.

Why I adore duct tape and closets: when you live with a 9 year old who isn’t yours, corporal punishments such as spankings are not an option. This is where these 2 supplies come in handy.

Why I wear ridiculously tall heels to work: Until someone invites me to a ball, I must get use out of my 47 pairs of beauteous shoes. Also, they come in handy when trying to reach books on the top shelf. But I STILL would like to go to a ball…

Why Angelina is still on my top 5 list of gorgeous celebs: Yes, I admit, she is greatly over-rated, and a little too skinny nowadays, but anyone who adopts a bunch of kids from wherever and takes the time to help other people is beautiful in my book. Even if they DID do it for publicity. I knew about her BEFORE she was famous and I want to kiss those crazy-big lips, so there.

Why I believe state patrol officers should all be laid off:  I can honestly say I’ve never seen a state patrol officer doing something useful, such as catching bad guys- instead, they seem to think that I am the bad guy, and are dumb enough to think that I’m going to slow down if they give me a ticket. Of course, they are dumb enough to sometimes NOT give me tickets too, when I flash a bit of cleavage. Since our country and states are having a difficult time with their creditors (us taxpayers), wouldn’t it make sense to rid ourselves of these nuisances and give them jobs as real cops in big cities who are short handed?

Ok, I guess that’s it for now. Have a lovely day, I may post something later. XOXO