Tuesday, September 18, 2007

New show!

Who else is excited for the new CBS show Kid Nation? (Premieres on Wednesday at 8--be there!) I, for one, cannot WAIT. In case you haven't heard about it, it's 40 kids taking over a ghost town and living without adults. They're supposed to create their own community and everything.
How can it be bad? There won't be any adults, which significantly cuts down on the potential annoyances. AND kids love to gossip, so we're bound to see good stuff! This summer, I learned that camps are a breeding ground for gossip--and a town composed entirely of children is BOUND to be something similar to a summer camp!
During my camp, I saw what my kids were capable of...they never ceased to impress me. I was constantly blown away by them. So who knows--maybe these kids will figure out what adults have been working on for so long.

Sunday, September 16, 2007

Unsolicited advice.

Ladies, when a boy hangs up on you, it's time to move on. You can do better. I don't care how cute he is--you can do better. UNLESS, of course, he happens to be one of your BFFs.
Which is exactly what happened to me today, while talking to some of my favorite kids on the planet. Three of Colorado's finest (Scott, Libby, and Maddie you are too much) called me up. And apparently I didn't share enough gossip to satisfy a certain someone so he who shall remain unnamed (SCOTT) hung up on me. And being the benevolent lady that I am, I have decided that I will still take his calls...but only on the third ring and only if it won't use up my daytime minutes. (I know, I really am too kind.)

However, advice still stands. If a boy hangs up on you...move on.


Hey Kanye West...can I talk to you for a second? Great.

You're what, 30 years old? Even by our most liberal definitions of the word, that makes you an adult. As far as I know you're not even living with Mom anymore! So what's up with the damn hissy fit?
You're hugely famous and people adore you. Your life basically rocks. And you're going to go all over the popular media and whine about MTV not inviting you to open the VMAs this year? Really? Are you kidding me?
I mean, first of all...I'm not even sure your new song is as great as you like to think. You took an awesome Daft Punk song (possibly my favorite) and bastardized it! I thought I liked it...but then I realized that every single time it comes on, I tune your voice out and focus on Daft Punk. So I guess I don't really like it, other than the side effect of getting to hear it on the radio pretty frequently. I wouldn't invite you to perform on the main stage either.
But rest easy, I'm sure MTV considered it. Which brings me to my second point. BRITNEY. Unlike every other person on the planet right now, I won't waste our time sharing my opinion of her performance. (But I would like to say that anyone calling her fat ought to be beaten. That, boys and girls, is not fat.) But I suspect that when MTV execs were flipping a coin over you or Justin Timberlake and Britney called them up and said she wanted to do it, all debate stopped. And I don't blame them. Look at the options--either Britney was going to kick some ass and stage a comeback to beat all comebacks and everyone would thank MTV for bringing her back...or she was going to get on stage and we'd see a 5 minute trainwreck and everyone would still be talking about MTV. (Will not share which option I think Brit chose.) Do you see what I'm getting at here? IT WAS WIN-WIN FOR MTV!
Can you really blame them? Once Britney entered the mix, you didn't stand a chance.

Also, grow the hell up.

Wednesday, September 12, 2007


Remember that time I said I almost got into a fight with a 92 year old woman? Yeah. I'm totally serious.

My grandmother, the sassy one, lives in a nursing home. (Where she has turned into a bit of a tart, always sitting next to the men.) We got a phone call from them the other day, saying she was being taken to the emergency room because another resident bit her. No lie.

I'm sorry, but what?? Biting? Really?

Mom and I took off to meet Gram at the ER, and by some stroke of luck, I went to high school with one of the ambulance drivers. As they checked her out, he and I waited in the hall and chatted. I was slightly confused by the whole biting thing, and asked if he knew what happened. Now, as a family member you're not supposed to know the details--like, say, who the biter is. But...well...let's just say I stumbled onto some information. And for the sake of my blog, let's say that I discovered that I have psychic abilities. Amazing! And then let's pretend that the biter is named Ethel. (Name has been changed to protect my grandmother, in case Ethel is still out for blood.)
I finally saw my grandma, and you could tell by looking at her bandaged finger that Ethel did some serious damage. There was a lot of blood, for someone with 92 year old teeth. (Or likely, fake teeth.) So I was pretty upset...my grandma is 91 and not exactly the picture of health. This is not the kind of thing you like to see happen. After the hospital gave her a tetanus shot, in case Ethel is diseased, they left us until they could put her in a room in the ER to stitch up her hand. So we waited. And waited. And waited.
Then our ambulance drivers were back, with another old lady! We greeted each other in the weary way of people who are spending their evening in an emergency room. Outside our curtained area, we heard them shout (for she was old), "ETHEL, ARE YOU FEELING OK?"


I stared at my mother. "Is that her?" I whispered. Mom poked her head into the hall and caught the eye of our ambulance friend.
"Is that the biter?" It was confirmed. She was in because of something completely different--a bladder infection or something.
I could see Ethel from my seat, who kept looking at me. That did not sit well, let me tell you. I had a lot to say to Ethel, all of which I kept hissing in her direction.
"God works in mysterious way, Ethel!"
"Karma is a bitch, Ethel!"

It was that last one, along with my gesturing frequently that I was watching her, that prompted my mother to tell me it would be embarrassing to be removed by security from the emergency room because I threatened an old lady. Well, she had a point. But the hag mangled my grandparent! That is not something I take lightly!

Eventually we got a room and the nurse came to sew her up--and needed to put ELEVEN stitches on the knuckle of one finger. That is what kind of damage Ethel did. Did you know there was room for 11 stitches on your knuckle? Because I surely didn't. She bit down to the tendon. Also, they x-rayed her hand just in case Ethel broke her.

In the end, I haven't seen Ethel around the nursing home--but trust and believe, lady, that I will keep my eyes open for your bloodied face.

Monday, September 10, 2007

Classic Night Out

Last night I went out to celebrate the birthday of one of my MOST FAVE COUSINS EVER. I don't think I've ever been out with her and not witnessed all the crazy this city has to offer. Well, we were not disappointed.
Jillian, the drunkest bachelorette that bar has seen in a long time, sat down at our table all decked out in her veil and "LAST NIGHT OF FREEDOM" shot glass necklace and various other accessories. From her opening line, ("My fiancé has the biggest penis!!") I knew we were in for some entertainment. After telling us a little bit about her betrothed (ok, just his genitalia) she set us down for a lecture.

On the perils of butt sex.

For maybe 10 minutes, I assured Jillian that I would just say no, and pass that along to any current or future boyfriends. But our time was limited, as she had more drinks to consume and more people to educate. It was for the greater good, really.

And now, a letter.

Dear Friends of the Poorly Dressed Lady,
You are without a doubt the most awful friends--and I use that term very loosely here--one could have the misfortune to find. How do you sleep at night, knowing you let her leave the house (AND GO OUT IN PUBLIC!) looking like that?? Everything about her was just so unfortunate. And watching her, she had no idea! She thought she was hot stuff! Probably because as you all primped before leaving, you said to her, "You are so hot!" and she replied, "No, YOU are so hot!" and you agreed that you ALL looked SO HOT! I bet you were even there when she bought that ill-fitting white see-through top. You assured her that no, she didn't need to wear something under it! And ohmigod those jeans are just falling off of you! Get a size smaller--super tight jeans are SO IN right now.
And THAT HAIR. You did it, yeah? She was looking in the mirror, all, "I don't know, up or down tonight?" You just stepped up to the plate on that one, didn't you, princess? GREAT IDEA! We'll put half up in a little bun and gel the hell out of it, and then leave the other half down, except we'll curl it! AND ADD MORE GEL!
You honestly are the worst friends. You just loooooooove being the "pretty friend," don't you? Bitches.
And the worst part? Some poor guy who is playing the part of wingman is going to have to hit that. I hope you're happy now.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda

I love this city.

Tuesday, September 04, 2007


Please enjoy the following limerick, written by someone who kicks ass.

Bitter Amanda’s advice is the best!
To hear it, I certainly am blessed.
Her message is clear,
Which she’ll shout in your ear:
PDA couples: Give it a rest!”

Monday, September 03, 2007


I hope everyone [in the US, anyway] enjoys their day off tomorrow! Do something fun and helpful...like stopping any PDA you see. That kind of thing.
I spent today with a bunch of cousins, telling inappropriate stories and realizing just what kind of stock I come from. During dinner many anecdotes were traded, and topics included: a monkey, castration, a fossilized penis, dead squirrels, and no less than three stories about testicles. And let's not forget the one about me almost getting into a fight with a 92 year old woman. (For another day, kids. Fear not.) Can I also point out that several of the dirty jokes were relayed by my 80 year old cousin?
This is my gene pool, and I say that with a broad smile on my face.