I need my facebook with extra sprinkles

Yes, I Facebook

Yes, I kinda think Facebook is lame.

Mostly because when I first signed up for it I thought it was really complicated. It’s gotten easier but mostly I go on to post updates and lurk others. But what I have really been noticing lately is that people are so PG on Facebook. That doesn’t mean your updates should say things like, Cock. Balls. Shit. But there could be a happy medium.

It did take me being on Facebook to realize my real life friends can be dull duds. My blogger/Facebook friends are always entertaining though. Thanks guys!

Bloggers, 1 point. Regular people, - 0

Don’t get me wrong I am not saying my Facebook updates are anything to write home about or even my Tweets. I too have suffered from a case of lameitus, but I do try to make updates somewhat non lame and non boring. But today we are not talking about how lame I am, we are talking about how lame others are. Tomorrow we can get back to my lameness if you want.

I’ve seen with my two eyes a FB status the said something like “Ironing my work clothes for tomorrow.” and “In the waiting room at the tanning salon.“ OK, I feel pretty confident that I can speak for the entire world when I say NO ONE CARES! What baffles me about these social networking websites is that A) any lame person is allowed to join. and B) that these lame people actually take the time to turn on their computer, sign on to FB and type something like Ironing my work clothes thinking others actually give a flying….

These are also the people that eat vanilla ice cream without sprinkles. Boring, party of one.

Maybe FB needs some kind of application to prevent people from boring the rest of the world to death. Similar to how google makes you do a math problem first before sending a drunk email. When you update your wall with something like “folding my socks” your computer blows up and your hand is forced to smack yourself upside the head.

That’s all I have to say for tonight. Off to go fold my socks and organize my silverware drawer.

When you're just not that into him

Why is it the guys you are interested in are the ones that never call you and the ones you aren’t interested in can’t seem to leave you alone?

I might have a mini stalker.

About a month ago I met a guy at a bar. We talked most of the night, he seemed cool and normal. Yes, seemed! At first we talked, emailed and text each other. He seemed like a cool guy.

Then he started to email me and text me all day long. ALL DAY! At first I replied but then it got to be too much. Then if I didn’t reply within about 5 minutes he would email/text again. Finally I stopped responding all together and he eventually after a couple of days got the hint and stopped.

Then this week it started up again. He doesn’t seem to be taking the hint that I’m just not into him. I don’t think he is necessarily dangerous and he doesn’t know where I live. So it's not really a safety issue, more like it is fucking annoying and I feel to bad to just tell him to leave me alone because he‘s creeping me out.

So I tried to figure out how can I get him to not want to talk to me anymore. I asked a few guy friends what they would do in this situation to get rid of a girl if she was semi stalking them this way.

Guy friend #1: I would just start stalking her back until she got creeped out and left me alone.

The problem with that is I think this guy would like it if I emailed and text him all day, every day.

Guy friend #2: To get rid of her I’d tell her I wanted to stick it in her butt. That usually sends women running.

Oh yes, great advice. Guys hate it and run from women when a women says they want you to stick it in their butt.

Lesson learned, I’m never asking guy friends for advice again.

I’d like to think it was my devastatingly good looks that brought all this on, but I think we can agree it’s because this guy is crazy.

I never thought I would see the day that I would have to quit you

Turkey bacon has become my arch enemy.

If you know me in real life or read my blog you know I love bacon. I have turkey bacon for breakfast every day. EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. So my point is I heart the bacon.

Last Wednesday was my first day of vacation. I started the day off with my usual breakfast including turkey bacon. Hours later my stomach started to feel not so bueno and soon I was performing my own version of the exorcist.

If you have ever had food poisoning you know it is not pleasant. It’s vomit, cry, sweat, shiver and repeat. The only thing I ate that could have caused this was bacon, my once faithful friend. Why God?! Why?!!

So in between each unplanned bulimia sesh I would curse god then pass out on my bathroom floor, still in my bathing suit looking like a sorority girl on spring break. Finally after about 5 hours I realized that a) I think I got it all out and b) I really needed to clean my bathroom floor.

Bacon is never going to be the same to me, I will never be able to enjoy its yummy goodness again without having flashbacks of getting sick. My relationship with bacon is over. I even bought a shirt that says Bacon Makes Everything Better. But guess what, I can’t wear it now because it’s a lie. It doesn’t make everything better. After all these years I have been nothing but good to bacon and this is how it repays me. Bacon once was like that really hot boyfriend that you had great sex with but then one day he popped his collar and got blonde frosted tips and turned into insta douche.

So bacon, maybe one day we can give this relationship another try. But if not then you should know, it’s not me, it’s you.

R.I.P. MJ

Unless you hit your head and have been knocked out since Thursday then you already know that Michael Jackson died.

If not then you heard it here first.

Michael Jackson is dead.

That being said, the last time a celebrity died that really made an impact on me was Heath Ledger. I just keep thinking about MJ being dead and how it feels like part of my childhood is gone. I can’t tell you how much time I spent in the 80’s dancing and singing along to his music. I always watched his videos on MTV. This was back when they actually had videos, you have to love 80’s videos with all the poofy hair and neon outfits.

I’m not going to lie, I was not really a fan once MJ became a white man that wore red lipstick and stopped being the guy that once wore military style sequined clothing and owned a chimpanzee named Bubbles.

And I know some people are not as saddened by his death as I am. They are entitled to their opinion. And whatever he did or didn’t do is not how I want to remember him. I want to remember him as the guy that I thought was so cool I spent hours with my friends trying to learn to moon walk as a kid and even more time trying to learn the dance steps to thriller.

Because I don’t care what anyone says, at the end of the day Michael Jackson was one cool mother fucker!

So thank you MJ. Thank you for being an important part of my childhood. And thank you for making it ok to wear white socks with black pants and one glove. I chose to celebrate his life by listening to his music, singing at the top of my lungs, perfecting my thriller dance moves and drinking vodka.

It made me feel like a kid of the 80’s again……minus the vodka.

Those TPS reports aren’t going to complete themselves

They say patience is a virtue. I don’t know who “they” are but I know for myself that I have maybe a smidgen of patience even on a good day. Axl Rose could have been serenading me himself and I still would have nearly ran out of patience today.

Today my phone at work rang. I answered it.

Some lady: Hello, Is this (names company)?
Me: No. Sorry you have the wrong number. This is (my work).
Some lady: Oh sorry. So this isn’t (company she wanted)?
Me: No. You have the wrong number.
Some lady: So this isn’t (company she wanted)? Hhmm I thought this was (company she wanted). This is the number I wrote down for (company she wanted)
Me: No sorry. This is (my work). You have the wrong number.
Some lady: Oh I thought I was calling........

I hung up.

Seriously, I speak proper English. What is she not grasping about getting the wrong number? When I call the wrong number I hang up right after someone tells me the FIRST time I have the wrong number. This isn’t some difficult statistics problem she is trying to solve, it’s the WRONG FUCKING NUMBER!

Later I had to deal with someone that actually had the correct number but was not the brightest crayon in the box.

Me: Call so and so here and they can fix that problem for you. The number is 555-6632.
Some guy: Ok. Thank you. That’s 555-6631.
Me: No. 555-6632.
Some guy: 555-6635.
Me: No. 555-6632.
Some guy: Ok 555-6632, right?
Me: Yes.
Some guy: So the number’s 555-6635?
Me: No. It’s 555-6632.

At this point I can hear all my co-workers laughing in their cubes.

Some guy: Oh ok. So the number is 555-6632. Is that right?
Me: Yes. 555-6632!!!!


This is why I drink.

Its just another Manic Monday

Being back to real life can suck it! Yesterday morning me and my friend made the long 20 minute drive back from LA to Long Beach, stopped at McDonalds for breakfast and I spent the rest of the day laying on my couch, eating pretzel sticks, pretending to smoke them like they were cigarettes and drinking champagne. A lazy hung-over Sunday only means one thing; the weekend was a success.

In this post I talked about what I was hoping to happen while I was in LA, so now lets talk about what did happen.


-No celebrity sightings. I blame mother nature for this one. The weather sucked on Saturday. I guess celebs don't like to pool hang when there is no sun.

-The bathroom at the pool had an opening from the women’s bathroom into the men’s at the sink. If you wanted you could watch while men use the urinals, which would have been perfect had there been any celebrities at the pool.

-They were filming a commercial there. We asked to be in it, we got denied. Rude! But the bar at the pool did give everyone free jello shots so all is forgiven.

-rs27 graced me with his presence and he is even more awesome in real life, his blog doesn’t do his awesomeness justice. And yes his beard is good!

-It’s been decided next time me and RS hang out I’m wearing tye-dyed spandex and he is going to find his inner Don Johnson and wear a white blazer and all the while we are going to Stay Loose!

-Our taxi drove us past skid row. My OC friends nearly died. Hello, homeless people can’t hurt you, being malnourished guarantees that. They have no strength to do harm. If you don’t see homeless people on a daily basis then you’ve never experienced culture.

-My friend flashed us her fake boobs in the taxi on the way back to the hotel. The driver enjoyed it. I kinda did too.

-For some reason I felt the need to slap my friend, the birthday girls ass at least a billion times. Now I know why people think we are lesbians.

-For the first time ever I was the first person to pass out. I guess I am not as hard core in LA as I am in Long Beach.


Hope everyone had a good Father’s Day. If you are not a father Happy Fathers Day anyway, because….you never know!

Vacation all I ever wanted, Vacation had to get away

This weekend I going on vacation. A 24 hour vacation, but I don’t care I am going to treat it like a vacation. On Saturday me and my friends are road tripping it up to LA for my friends 30th birthday, to hang at the hotel pool then go out to a burlesque bar at night. Ok maybe road tripping is a bit of an exaggeration since LA is only about 20 miles from Long Beach.

But I’m still going to pretend I’m on vacation.

I love LA. It’s the only other city in California that I would live, one day I might. Maybe one day soon. It is always just an entertaining good time whenever I am there. So hopefully Saturday won’t be any different.

But here is what I am hoping is gonna happen.

- Celebrity sightings while lounging at the roof top pool at The Standard Hotel. Actually I am expecting to see a celebrity get drunk and fall in the pool. My money is on Lindsay Lohan or Tara Reid. Maybe not Lindsay since she is busy trying to get in good with SamRo’s vag again. But I hear even after going to rehab Tara fell off the wagon. Keep your fingers crossed.

-Everyone's favorite Bearded Indian is expected to come hang out with us poolside to drink, talk about how awesome we are and to point and laugh at others.

-Ok fine I might just end up being that celebrity that gets drunk and falls in the pool in front of everyone. Yes, I did just call myself a celebrity but it’s my blog and I will say what I want and besides some do think I am a celebrity. By some I mean my cat.

-The bathrooms at this hotel don’t have a wall between the shower and the room. It’s all glass, and not frosted glass. It will be like being in a porn booth. But as my friend said “I guess we'll will get to know each other real well this weekend.”

-The theme of the burlesque bar we are going to is Go-Go dancers/haunted house. I know! How does one dress for that? Slutty and scared I guess.


So cheers to a drunken debauchery of a vacation. But also cheers to no one getting arrested.

Gracie Lou Freebush would be so proud

By now I am sure everyone has heard about Miss California losing her title of Miss Dumb Bitch 2009, oh I mean Miss California. What is that they say about Karma? Oh yes, it’s a bitch. She gives women a bad name, and blondes, and the state of California, and beauty pageant contestants, and people with fake boobs and the overall human race.

I don’t really want this post to be about Carrie Prejean because I hate her and her “opinion” on gay marriage. Gay, straight or purple, I think everyone has the right to divorce.

Somebody please punch her in the face.

What bothers me is beauty pageants in general. Now I know they do charity work and can have a positive effect on communities and get scholarships and…..Blah Blah Blah! But why do people take them so serious? I'm not saying I don't enjoy wearing a tiara because I do, it feels nice but these woman are standing on stage in bikinis, heels and a sash and you are going to ask them important life questions?

Make it simple and ask things like what is your favorite color or who do you like better Elmo or Tickle Me Elmo?

It’s called a BEAUTY pageant. No one cares if any of them have brains. That is not why people watch. It is like when men say they buy Playboy for the articles. Sure, articles with boobies.

Contestants have no problem putting hairspray on their butts, vaseline on their teeth and mastering the art of gliding but we are suppose to care how they hope for world peace? Ok, I don’t actually know if they use hairspray or vaseline for that but according to Miss Congeniality they do so just go with it.

Seriously though, who doesn’t want world peace? I know I do and I didn’t have to put on a bikini and my 'Miss Awesome' sash to say so.

We owe each other the drunkest years of our lives

Many things baffle me, like what ever happened to Hoffa or why no one has run Paris Hilton over with their car. (Lizzie Grubman, no jury would even convict you) But what really gets the wheels in my head turning is why some people don’t drink. It seems many other people are plagued with this question too. I even watched a comedy special this weekend talking about this exact topic.

When ever someone says to me that they don’t drink my usual response is something along the lines of “I’ve got no idea what you just said” Now don’t go getting ones panties in a wad, I am not talking about getting shit faced every night or even every weekend or if you have had a problem with alcohol. I am talking about people that don’t drink At. All. You know who I am talking about, those super cool always the life of the party sober people.

The thing about drinking is that it is the perfect fall guy. If you don’t drink then what do all you sober people blame all the dumb shit you do on?

“I can’t believe I made out with that ugly guy last night. Oh well, I had on beer goggles.”

“Yelling and causing a scene is not normally how I behave. I blame all those shots of tequila.”

“ If it wasn’t for all that alcohol I would not have lost my balance while trying to fight a trash can, then falling to the ground”

I will not confirm nor deny that these are things I have done.

If you don’t drink, then how to explain your crazy behavior? You can’t blame Dr. Pepper for letting some guy feel you up in a dark bar. I don't know who I am even asking this too, non- drinkers would not enjoy my blog and I don't run in the same circles as non-drinkers. Sobriety produces responsible behavior. No one likes to be responsible, that’s just stupid.

Normally I am not one to give advice but some of my best advice I’ve given a friend after they have done something bad is, “just blame what you did on alcohol.“

I know, right! With giving amazing advice like that it’s like I’m the female Dr. Phil, except with hair and I don’t say things like “no dog ever peed on a moving car.”

Shut the fuck up, Dr. Phil.

If you didn’t drink before then trying to understand what a Dr. Phil quote means should do the trick to send all you sobers into an alcoholic frenzy.

Some guests bring the drama, this one brings the beer

(JP over at The Gospel of JP was nice enough to do a guest post for me. Not only is he an awesome guy but he loves beer just about as much as I do. In fact he is my first guest post I have had on my blog. Thanks JP for coming to the LBC and popping my (guest post) cherry. I hope it was as good for you as it was for me!!)


Livin the life in the LBC. JP's on the microphone w/ ras m.g. All the people in the dance will agree That we are well qualified to represent the LBC... Wait wrong channel.

Hello Long Beach, my name is JP and I come over from the The Gospel of JP. The beautiful Lbluca is taking a time out and seeing how my team is in town, I thought I would drop by. Today's topic? Beer! More specifically Bell's Brewing Two Hearted Ale.

I was introduced to this ale at a wine bar last Friday night. I know what you are thinking, but I had a really hot date and we had a great time. Bonus! So, I ask the wine dude whats new and whats good? I told him I like hopped and strong. Well, lets just say good recommendation, poor knowledge of said beer.

Anyways, here is the run down on the Bell's Two Hearted Ale:
Ordered it from Eola Wine: $5.00 a pint
ABV: 7.0% Mellow, but will surely get the job done after a solid 16 ozer.
O.G.: 1.058 They started off with a medium foundation of hearty malts
IBU's: Unknown. When I asked the bar tender, he told me 7%. Obviously he had no clue and tried to play it off.
Overall Taste and complex: You may recall me going on about how good this brewery's Maximus was right? Well, this is very comparable Maximus. White lacy head that complements the balanced and pale body. It has a citrus note that is like biting into a grapefruit, and the bitterness blends nicely with the grapefruit finish thanks to the hops. It is a very low key IPA, but has enough bite to show it has some balls to it.

On the JP beer scale(1-10), I give this a 8.9 for the brewery bringing their A-game. With this beer I can see myself getting into 4 or 5 deep and still not grow tired of it. That is strong work in my book.

Two Hearted Ale reminds me of Katy Perry. A little out there, bold, sexy, but definitely not for everyone. I would give her a few go's if you know what I mean, at least until I pass out from sheer pleasure (see alcohol poisoning). So, get out there and give this beer a good shot. You can be seen in public with it and it will still treat you like the dirty whore you are. So crank up some Sublime and enjoy!