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Archive for the ‘daily dilemmas’ Category

This blog has moved to www.bluntdelivery.com

For all the reasons, please visit Why I Hate Women: Oh Let Me Count The Ways.

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Well, it’s one month shy of my first post here at The Daily Elephant.   I would like to say a big thank you to all of you out there who actually take time out of your extremely busy lives [or so you say..] to read about my ridiculous life.  It has been my pleasure to get to know you all.  As much as I’ve loved my big, oversized, wrinkly elephant skin, – I need some space to breathe.  You know how I get restless.

The time has come to announce my new website, and I thank you for your patience.  Oh wait, you were a bunch of crazy LUNATICS continually griping in my ear everyday. 

I want you to know that in this era of social networking, twittering, and myspacing that YOU are the first ones to know about this wonderous new development.  And let me tell you something, you better come visit me cus that blog is nekkid!!!  And no,  it’s not the kind of nekkid you’d be excited about.   I spend countless hours copying some of my favorite blogs onto the new website so it wouldn’t be empty and now there are ZERO comments.  It’s as if I have the most hated blog on the planet.  Boo hoo.  First one to comment wins… uh… my heart

We all know that I’m challenged when it comes to things like choosing names, significant others, or things from the dollar menu.  So you can IMAGINE the heartache I suffered over the name of my new website.  Afterall, I’m pretty hard to please and I’d like to be happy with this for more than a year.  So I thought long and hard about the general nature of my blogs and conversations with friends.  And one thing kept coming to mind- I’m very direct.  And I like it that way.  And I like others to be that way with me.   So I present to you my new website, designed by yours truly:

blunt-delivery-2

***FAVOR:  All of you that have The Daily Elephant listed on your blog roll, could you pretty pretty please change that to bluntdelivery.com???  I will love you forever.

And just for that, I have some fabulous new blogs for you right at the top of the pile, including: 

A Post-it Would Have Been Better

Middle School Misfortune

Nitemare on Ex Street

I Dated A Slumdog Millionaire

Not to mention that there is now a picture up of Kenny and I from the actual night in question from my post The Kenny Chronicles: How We Met

BOO-YA!  Told you I’d have it up by today.  There’s all sorts of new things for you to feast your eyes on, so you’ll have to look through the categories.  I am also introducing THE SKINNY, which is where I’ll be telling you the deal about products, websites, and things that will either revolutionize or destroy your life.

See ya around kids.

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So, I took some time out of my busy day, actually took a shower, actually put on some real pants, and went to get a massage.   The entire time I was there, I was writing this blog in my head.  I’ll start from the beginning.

I’m standing there naked (but fully robed)  (although the robes are like paper thin)  (but at least it’s dimly lit)  OK.  I’m standing there and right off the bat the massage girl says:

girl:  So just go ahead and get in the bed, I’ll step out for a second. 

me:  Ok. sounds good.

girl:  Oh, so you’re a massage therapist then

me:  (a little bit freaked out that this complete stranger would ask me this)  Um, well… that’s a long story.  But not exactly.

girl:  Oh, well it says in your file that you were going to massage therapy school.

me:  (wondering why in the heck I have a “file” for getting spa services…  Also wondering what else this so-called “file” contains.  Also wondering if every conversation I have with my massage therapists are  recorded in said “file” because I’m pretty sure I remember talking about that last time I was here…)  Yea, well I was going, but I quit

girl:  Well I was just nervous that I had a trained professional on my hands and you were gonna be all judgey.

So I get into the bed.  She comes in.  No sooner than the blanket is off my back we are engrossed in a conversation about, what else?  …. relationships.

I said something about my bad experiences and  tendencies to date inappropriate (and sometimes International) men, and she responded with “stop stealing my life.”   It was in that very moment, when she cloned my favorite phrase, that the world stood still.  The clouds parted, and an epiphany shone down from the heavens…. Could it be?

Further conversation would prove that my hypothesis was indeed, correct:

seinfeld-george-costanza-getting-massageme:  so wait, let me get this straight.  You’ve been floundering around for several years, dating inappropriate men that you were convinced were perfect, avoiding marriage and illegitimate children, went to school for art yet  are now giving me a massage, you’re restless, confused, AND you say things like “stealing my life?”

girl:   Yes.  and I’ve dated inappropriate International men.

me:  (stop talking for a second to catch my breath)… who?  how?  …from where?

girl:  Well, first there was the German.  It was really fun travelling around with him.   Then there was the Costa Rican foreign exchange student.  But thennnnnnn there was the Ecuadorian.  He was trouble.  But we had a good time in Argentina.

me:  (this girl is me…should I be scared?…)  I know this sounds terrible, but have you found that many of your relationships have “overlapped”  because you have mentally moved on but can’t get the guts to break it off with the other person?

girl:  Oh yea… big time.

That sealed the deal.  I was in love.  We had more things in common that I could possibly write about and we ended up talking through the entire massage… but dont’ you worry I’m a master multi-tasker, thus I was able to simultaneously relax.  I gave her my card (because obviously I can’t let this one get away)  and immediately headed over to Panera where Kenny was chillin.   I storm in, sit down and say:

me:  OK.  You’re not going to BELIEVE this!?!#$%   After all these years, I have managed to find the female equivalent of myself!

kenny:  But…. you are female.

me:  I know that I’m female.  But you’re the male equivalent of me, right?  So she’s the female. 

kenny:  Oh.  Well good for you. 

this blog has officially moved to: www.bluntdelivery.com

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First of all, I’m implementing a new rule here at The Daily Elephant.  And that is that you address me by my rapper name:  ‘Lil Phant.  [pronounced ‘font’] 

There are two planetary certainties which occur ever time I leave the comfort of my surroundings and venture out into the cold, harsh reality that is our world:

1. I will step in gum that I myself spat out merely five seconds prior.

2. I will have an awkward encounter with an astranged friend I haven’t seen since the late 90’s. 

talking-in-grocery-storeIf you are one of these estranged friends, I’d like to take this moment to apologize for the abrupt conversation that just took place.  Cus see, I have avoidance issues.  Simply put, I wanted to avoid you, but you made it impossible by cornering me next to the tomato sauce.  Then you prodded me with questions all interrogation style and it made me uncomfortable.  Not uncomfortable because I am afraid to discuss my life with you, but uncomfortable in the sense that you were wasting my time.  And you don’t care what I’ve been up to and I’m [hopefully] not going to see you for another decade so do we really have to do this?  Yes?    Aw, crap.

 

estranged friend: Oh hey! haven’t seen you in forever.  What on earth have you been up to?   Married?  Kids?

me:   It’s been awhile, for sure.  No.  No thanks on the married thing.  And no illegitimate children. ..

[what I’m thinking:  Well, let’s see.  I went to college after avoiding it for a solid year, then ran away to Mexico for while, changed my major 6 times because I can’t commit to anything, then moved to London and travelled the world for a little bit,  came back,  dropped out of college to open a retail store,  successfully warded off two engagements, dated a british guy who turned out to be a bajillionaire, got sick of retail store….]

me:  Yea.  Just same old.  same old…

[still thinking:  then discovered british guys like heroin, rebounded with a bipolar crazypants, stood by as all my friends got married/ knocked up/ or both, started massage therapy school for fun, dropped out of massage therapy school for fun,  worked out once, got my house and my store robbed/  my purse stolen twice/ my car broken into all within a 6 month span, lost my mind, got some stories published, bought a condo..]

me:   Yea.  nothing to report here.  You?

estranged friend:  Well, Bobby and I got married after college and we’ve got little Joshy and Abigail at home.  We’re expecting our third in the fall.  You know, I’ve been reading your blog and I love it!

me:  Oh, really?  thanks

[what I’m thinking:  crap…. crap… CRAP!!#$%^!  what did I write about her?  There had to be something.  And she has to know it’s her.  UGH  WHY can’t I just not write offensive but truthful blogs about everyone in my past?  Well, cus they provide cheap entertainment.  ….Wait.  Hold the phone.  I don’t even talk to this girl, how does she know I have a blog?  Well.   In that case, it looks like we just took a turn to creeptown  -so she deserves everything I said about her.  In fact, I think I’ll write something about this when I get home.]

me:  Alright, well, see ya in another ten years.

In conclusion, it would really help me out if anyone that I personally know would avoid reading my blog.  Because see, you are what fans the flames of this blog, for without you, I would have nothing to criticize.  Then, I could be free to use you as comic relief without fear of awkward reprecussions, and you could live your life blissfully unaware that you are the source of public mockery.

Today is the last day to enter my totally rad featured blog contest!  To quality for this week, you must leave a comment on this post, and on each of these:

Skeezy ‘R Us

I’m just not that into him

What not to buy for Valentine’s day

Want more traffic?  Let me feature your blog

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pervert1Recently, I was recruited by someone to put my freelance writing profile on IList.com.  Because I’m awesome, and for no other reason.  Don’t worry, the place is legit, it’s like a craigslist of sorts.  I checked it out and I thought, well since they had already set up everything for me and I only had to put in my web address – ok, fine.  Any more work than that and this elephant would have went right back to bed.  No longer than  12 hrs. after I listed my profile, I get this exact email to my personal address:

 

_____________________________
Yo!  I saw your writing ad on Ilist…. and I was wondering if you were open to anything other than “work”?  You’re REALLY cute and I’d like know something about you. You’re lookin’ damn sexy in those tight jeans!
‘Write’ on!!……………………………

Please reply to me at this address.

Phillip
____________________________
So, I thought given the extreme intelligence of this person to email me in attempt to lure me into some kind of perverted cyber relationship, when he was reading a listing for a freelance WRITER,  I thought I’d post it here for everyone to enjoy.  Along with his real email. 
 
On that note, I’d like to say a big “thank you” to Phillip over at Skeezy ‘R US, because I was totally at a loss of what to write about tonight.

Need More Blog Traffic? Let me feature your blog 

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when-harry-met-sally-billy-crystal

 

 

Harry:  “You were going to be a gymnast.”

Sally:  “A journalist.”

Harry: “Right, that’s what I said.”

 

 

 

Guys, if you’ve ever been perplexed and confounded by the ways of women, I understand.  I do.  Although I might be one, I only understand our ways about 45% of the time.   But within that 45% of understanding, I am going to try to share this secret knowledge with all of you poor, pathetic, and tortured souls out there.  Of course, the degree at which you need to execute the following steps varies drastically from one woman to the next, so in that aspect you’re on your own.

1.  We want you to be nice.  But we don’t.  If you’re too nice to us then we will slowly grow to hate you.  And by hate, I mean lose all repect for and view you as a pushover who can only be considered a good friend.

2. We want you to pay attention to usBut not too much attention.  This is a very important one because if you don’t give us attention when we need it [aka when other attractive girls are around or when we’re crying about something ridiculous] then it’s done.  But if you get all clingy on a daily basis when we just want some FRIGGEN SPACE for the love of everything then it’s also over.

pouty-face3.  We want you to give us our way.  But not all the time.  See, if you don’t ever give us our way then you’re a cold-hearted, insensitive, selfish bastard.  But if you give us our way all the time then you’re not enough of a man to be worthy of our respect.   And most likely, you’d be an awful father who’d let the kids do whatever they want just because they make that pouty face.

Stay tuned for the second intallment of what women want.  I’ll be bringing that to you as soon as I figure it out myself.

this blog has officially moved to: www.bluntdelivery.com

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Superbowl Sunday.  Afternoon.  Conversation:

him:  I have to pick up some pop for the superbowl party later.

me:  We’re going to a superbowl party?

him:  Yea, I told you that.

me:  What?  I’m not so sure about that. 

him:  I did.  You don’t remember.

me:  No, I wasn’t listening.  Well, I didn’t know that was today.  What’s the date today?

him:  It’s February 1st.

me:  WHAT?  SONOFA  #$%^!   That means my $10 off Gordmans coupon expired.   DANGIT!!!!!

him: So I have to get pop.

me:  Well, what are my chances of getting out of going cus I have alot of crap to do?

him:  About as good as my chances of getting a back rub tonight.

me:  But what if I’m suuuuper tired? 

him:   ….

me:  Well that’s some b.s. right there.  You know how I get sick when I’m sleep deprived.

him:  Well good thing you work from HOME.  Sleep in.   Clearly, you need to get out of the house, you didn’t know what day it was. 

[cut to three hours later at the Superbowl party……..]

Steelers Cardinals Football

 me:  so who’s playing anyway?

him:   Steelers and the Cardinals.

me:  Ok, well, I hate yellow so on principle I have to hope the red team wins.

him:  Good, we want the red team to win.

me:  and have you ever smelt pittsburg?  seriously. what a crap hole.

Want more traffic dahling?  Let me feature your blog

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