Thursday, April 30, 2009

The Swine Floozies Conquer Trivia Night

Abi and I stumbled upon trivia night in our favorite bar in the Village last week when we stopped in for buy one get one free beers before a concert we were going to.

Because we both love trivia and DVR Jeopardy (don't judge), trivia night, a $5 bowl of delicious fries and buy one get one free beers is just about as close to heaven as you can possibly get as a young, broke lady in NYC.

So, we came up with a topical/hilarious name: The Swine Floozies. Once this pandemic blows over (or kills us all) and Swine Flu jokes are no longer funny, we will then be known as "Trivia Newton-John."

We killed in the first two rounds and then I couldn't contain my excitement when they announced that they would have a "Basically Bea Arthur" round in honor of the late, great Golden Girl.

Unfortunately, the emphasis was on the BASICALLY and less on the BEA ARTHUR, to the point where I wrote in one of the answer blanks "HONESTLY, JUST ASK ME A QUESTION ABOUT THE GODDAMNED GOLDEN GIRLS."

How misleading.

Things went down-hill after that and I just remember writing "bitchez" in all of the answer blanks that we didn't know and writing a poem about Bea Arthur on the bottom of the page.

And then the winners were announced: Best name? THE SWINE FLOOZIES.


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An Angry Rant from an Awful Person

Ok, honestly.

There are only so many steps a normal person will take when it comes to donating.

Write you a check? Sure!

Stay up all night for the 24 hour dance marathon to benefit lymphoma? Not so much.

My roommate moved out this past weekend and had a ton of clothes she wanted to donate but never got around to scheduling a pick up with Salvation Army. I told her to leave them. There were about six bags of clothes and countless pairs of shoes, so I didn't want to see them going into the trash (see, I have a heart!).

I look on the Salvation Army website to see they are only open until 4pm on weekdays.

Why wouldn't they stay open until at least 6? Bitchz gotta work, you know? Maybe the want to cut down on their costs, you say. After all, they are a charity organization. Okay, open at noon then. Come on.

I decide to call to schedule a pick up on the weekend. The next Saturday pick up they have available is May 30. One month from now.

I want this shit out of my house pronto, SA, not one whole effing month from now.

"Can you bring the clothes to one of our stores?" the Salvation Sargeant asks.

Yeah, I'll just take these six bags of clothes and fifteen boxes of shoes on the subway to the skeeviest part of Flatbush. What do I look like, an Octomom? I can't carry all of that shit by myself.

"So... You don't want to donate?"

"Nope," I say, thinking there must be a shelter or church nearby that will provide a more expedient pick up service.

Not so much.

What the fuck? Why is it so effing hard to donate in a city where I see about 700 homeless people every day?

There is only a 10 minute window in my selfish day that I will entertain thoughts of charity.

You blew it, everyone.

Those clothes? Yeah, they're on the curb.


Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Lunchroom Bandits Be Damned

Check out the May issue of Every Day With Rachael Ray magazine for my ridiculous article on how to thwart a lunchroom bandit (aka: that rat bastard who steals your lunch at work). I interviewed David Borgenicht, author of those clever little Worst Case Scenario handbooks and he gave some pretty interesting advice.


I have lost my goddamned mind

Take a look at my recent iTunes purchases and tell me that I'm not fucking batshit crazy:

"The Schindler's List Theme" by Itzhak Pearlman
"Just Fine" by Mary J. Blige
"Crack a Bottle" by Eminem
"I'm on a Boat" by The Lonely Island
"That's Me Trying" by William Shatner
"Days Like These" by Janis Ian
"Cool" by Gwen Stefani
"9 to 5" by Dolly Parton
"Sweet Baby" by Macy Gray
"My Life Would Suck Without You" by Kelly Clarkson
"Tyrone" by Erykah Badu
"Raine" by Bret Michaels
"Sky's the Limit" by The Notorious BIG
"Heartless" by Kanye West

I don't even know what to say. Discuss amongst yourselves.


Smug Reflectionz

One year ago this past weekend I was at Riverfest, a boozy, school-sponsored kegger that was one of the best nights of my life. The day of Riverfest I was offered my job so I decided to celebrate by getting so drunk that I passed out on the courtyard outside of my townhouse with one earring on after I called the security guards "professional narcs" and ripped down all of the quiet hours signs.

Yes, I was a classy lady.

So when I look at all of my underclassmen friends' Facebook s
tatuses that all scream "AHHHHHHH RIVERFEST OMGGGGGGG!!!!," I do get a little sad and nostalgic.

And then I realized that in one year's time I went from a drunk college kid to a drunk semi-professional who is VIP the Tribeca Film Festival.

Not bad.

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Saturday, April 25, 2009


Tuesday, April 21, 2009

What a Way to Make a Living

As part of a "team building" effort, all of us in the marketing department were treated to free tickets to see 9 to 5: The Musical last night.

Third row, center: I could see the sweat on Allison Janney's FACE.

While some of Dolly Parton's songs seem like mindless filler, it was a very fun, cute show and the cast was excellent.

Allison Janney steals everything she's in (hello, a bit role in
Drop Dead Gorgeous: "She's screaming, 'Mom, mom!' 'cause she's got tourette's!"). Tons of fun. Netflixing the original movie right now.

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The Ultimate Wah Wah

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Saturday, April 18, 2009

Yes it Will

And what a beautiful weekend this is shaping up to be.

Beers on the back patio of Bar Reis and margaritas at the Taqueria with Tim last night, and Texas sized, extra shot daiquiris with Abi at the Dallas BBQ in the Village tonight.

I love warm weather.

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Thursday, April 16, 2009

Never Forget Where You Come From

The Power of You

Dear Time Warner Cable,

Living in the modern world, there are a few things I expect to have when I return home from work:

1. Running water
2. Electricity
3. Internet access

At $120 a month, I don't think the Internet thing is too much to ask.

Love always,


PS: Go fuck yourself

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Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Buffalo Soldier

I've dubbed myself the "Buffalo Soldier" on Fucked in Park Slope, and thus, have started doing "wing offs" as I try to find the best wings in Brooklyn.

Take a look.

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Monday, April 13, 2009

Text Conversations with My Roommate

When you live with someone, you get to know them on a level that most other people don't know. Just by way of proximity, my roommate knows that I a.) drink my feelings b.) don't make my bed—like, ever. c.) have watched the entire two hours of Lifetime's esteemed Confessions of a G0-Go Dancer, and I'm sure many more embarrassing things.

Have you ever wondered what it's like to live with Amanda in BK? Of course you have. And so, I bring you, text conversations with my roommate:

February 19, 9:54PM

Me: Leaving the office now... How's 30 Rock?
Roommate: Gah! Gross, it's a repeat.

March 3, 6:56PM

Roommate: I'm leaving work now. I didn't get a package in the mail, did I?
Me: Nope, do you want sushi?
Roommate: No thanks!

March 5, 7:12PM

Roommate: Leaving work now. My friend and I are getting Five Guys. Let me know if you want me to pick anything up for you.
Me: AHHHH FIVE GUYS. Yes, I'm in. I'm leaving work now too. I'll pick up my own, thanks.

March 10, 7:03PM

Me: Getting pizza for dinner if you want in.
Roommate: Thanks, but I'm at a friend's house for dinner!

March 25, 9:15PM

Roommate: We're at Five Guys. Want anything?
Me: No thanks, I'm just leaving work now.
Roommate: Gross.

So, basically, we've concluded that our lives are centered around leaving work and Five Guys Burgers & Fries.


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Sunday, April 05, 2009

Thanks, Craig's List—I am Scarred for Life

As I've mentioned, I'm looking for a roommate starting May 1. I've gone the Craig's List route because I don't want to live with co-workers, and my friends are either happy in their respective apartments or unable to afford my stupid rent (yes, I hate it, too).

To be fair, I have met a few decent, viable options, however, today—on PALM SUNDAY of all days—I had two particularly interesting appointments.

Appointment 1: NO SHOW. Thanks for standing me up, VICTORIA. Who goes by Victoria anyway? Is it like Debbie Gibson? When she grew up and wanted to be taken seriously so she insisted everyone call her DEBORAH? I'M OVER IT. I'M OVER YOU. I WATCHED THE ENTIRE TWO HOURS OF SHE'S ALL THAT WAITING FOR YOU TO SHOW UP. GODDDDDDD.

Appointment 2: A woman emails me and tells me she does hair and makeup for photoshoots. She shows up, who do I see? GRANDMA MOSES. This lady is forty-fucking-five years old. That is three years younger than my mother, if we're keeping score. She said that she doesn't have many people over. My roommate finished the joke: "Yeah, she doesn't have anyone over—EXCEPT HER GRANDCHILDREN." Don't call us, we'll call you.

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After a long weekend of relaxing, I am ready to go back to work and lay the smack down on it (ie: seize the day, or something along those lines).

And, if you were ever like, hey, what's Amanda's day usually like at work?

Here's a pretty accurate depiction:

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Thursday, April 02, 2009


My Inspiration

Abi at the 2nd Avenue subway stop. 

Every day is a turning point.

You sure said it, Dr. Phil.

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Wednesday, April 01, 2009

How to ensure your internship will not turn into a job offer

A.) Come into the office and sit at the very (deliberately) isolated intern area for two hours without coming over and asking anyone if they need any help with anything. Yes, this is an unpaid internship, which means you're allowed to spend a decent amount of time dicking around on Facebook. However, you're here for a reason. The more work you help people do, the less bitch work you will be given.

B). Listen to YouTube videos loudly and laugh like a bunch of illiterate hyenas so obnoxiously that someone has to get up and yell at you.

C). Only listen to half of the directions you're given so you do everything half fucked up. Thanks for all of these mailing addresses I asked you for, but in mailing addresses should also include zip codes.

D). Talk on your phone constantly while fucking up the menial work you've been given. Honestly, a really intelligent Golden Retriever could address an envelope.

E). Don't apologize when you fuck something up or offer to correct it.  Generally have an attitude that shows that you don't give a fuck, because you don't get paid. 

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