The Other Side of Me

Do you ever have a moment when you say or do something so stupendously stupid, that you have an out of body experience? A brief moment where you seem to float out of your body and can see from a different perspective the awful blunder that you just made? I have those about once or twice an hour it feels like. Those moments where you just wish you weren't yourself. Sometimes I wish that I were someone else, anyone else really. It wouldn't matter who. I'd like to be a socialite living in the Upper East side of New York. With a life filled with things such as Sunday brunches, and society parties, glitz and glamor. I think I would really like that. Or I could be a quirky character on a sitcom. Where every other line out of my line is something witty, and my hair would always be perfect and so would my wardrobe. My life wouldn't be perfect but they're would be plenty of punchlines, so I think I could deal with it. Or maybe I could be a contestant on American Idol, hoping that the general public would like me and keep me on the airwaves. Singing bad seventies cover songs, and forgetting the words with much frequency.

If only it were that easy to just pick another personality completely, and run with it. If only you got to decide things like that before birth. Things like how big your nose is, and what color your hair is, and what kind of person you would be. Not that I don't like myself, because I do. I really do. Sometimes. I like the way I can make people laugh by saying the most inane things. I like the way people ask me for advice as if I have any motherfucking clue as to what I'm talking about. I like my blue eyes, and I like my hair long. I like being tall, and articulate. I like my singing voice, not so much my speaking tone.

Maybe it's not that I don't like being me. Maybe I just wish that I could be a different me. Someone who's not afraid to be completely one hundred percent myself. Someone who never leaves anything reserved or quiet. Someone that no longer just wants to be a period. Someone who wants to be JORDAN! instead of Jordan. If that makes sense at all. And if you don't get it, then I guess you never really did get me at all did you? I've said it before but I just want so much more than what life has offered me so far. I want bright lights, and a fast paced life. I want earthquakes instead of thunderstorms. I want so much more, and I just don't know how to get it. I guess I'm just waiting for my next great idea.

F.U.S.S.

Man, did I ever tell you about that person in Helfin, LA that like really hates me? That one who's always commenting about how much of a fucking loser I am, and how I'm apparently ugly? No, I haven't? Well I totally should sometime.

f.u.s.s.

Welcome to the Greatest Show on Earth

I know this has nothing to do with anything but when I was trying to design a header for this month all I could think of was vintage circus posters, so I attempted to make one. Here it is.

The Post Where I Talk About Britney Spears

If you have ever bought a tabloid just to read what about what Britney Spears is doing, you need to watch this. If you've ever laughed when she shows something, or shaves something, or shows something shaved, then you need to watch this episode of South Park. It is truly one of the most disturbing things I've ever seen.

http://www.southparkzone.com/episodes/1202/Britneys-New-Look.html

I've said it before but...

Beware the Ides of March, that bitch be vicious.

Dear Old Navy,

I would like to say that I have been a patron of your stores for years. I love your khaki pants, and your sweaters, there was once a time where I even loved your graphic tees. Sometimes I can look through old photographs of myself and pick out every article of my clothing from you're past catalogues. And although my tastes in clothing has changed as of recently to more mature and sophisticated wares than what you're fine store offers I still visit once in a while.

In fact I did very recently with my sister. I bought a pair of khaki pants, that I'm still quite fond of. I even purchased this shirt in "Dark Sea Blue Stripe" and plan on coming back for the white one. So if I grace your store with my presence so often, why am I writing you, one might ask? Well the other day when I was in your store, I suddenly had an urge to urinate. Not on one of your graphic tees, but in the restroom. Be it to my surprise when I walked into the men's room and took at a look at the urinal to relieve myself I noticed something odd.

Why is it that there are shit stains in the urinal? Is this some Old Navy secret that I am not privy to? Is it like an unspoken code that all employees must shit in the urinals so as not to tie up the toilets? I just don't get it. It's not like it's a normal thing for a guy to pull down his pants and sit down backwards over the urinal and lay a big dump. I just don't understand is it something in the air at Old Navy that causes guys to as they are shopping for that perfect pair of carpenter jeans to suddenly have a weakening in their bowels? Does it make it so that the only thing they can do is to rush headfirst into the Men's room and shit on the nearest porcelain object they come across? Well whatever it is you need to change it and fast.

I can simply not shop under these conditions. I cannot pick up a pair of boxers and wonder if they're are shit stains in the urinal. I just cannot, especially when your boxers cost eight fifty a piece. Eight dollars and fifty cents is simply too much to pay when there are shit stains in the urinals. I can't look the check out girl in the eye, when I know that they're are shit stains in the urinals. Because she knows that I know, and I know that she knows, and we all know that no one is doing anything about the shit stains in the urinals. How can I even be expected to finish this letter when I know that if I went to Old Navy right now there would more than likely be shit stains in the urinals? How can any of us live in this world knowing that there are shit stains in the urinals at any Old Navy in this world? I hope you can clear this problem up, or at least post banners around the store to let us know why it's happening, that would be greatly appreciated.

P.S. Could you possibly try to make more flip flops in a size thirteen? That would be of much help for me. Thanks.

Your Friend, Jordan

Dear Palmer Candy Company,

I think there's something we should discuss. I know you're thinking what could I possibly need to say to a candy company? Besides the fact that I think it's pretty obvious if you look at any of photographs of my chin that I consume to many confections. But there is at least one that I will never taste. And that is one of your chocolate covered conglomerations you've designed for Easter and I am of course talking of the chocolate cross.

Look, I'm not a religious guy, I'm all about skipping church and only praying when I need something. I get it I'm a bad person. But that does not mean that I want to walk into Wal-Mart and see that you have decided that what kids today need in their Easter baskets is a cocoa covered crucifix. This is not okay. I mean, is nothing sacred to you people? What's next? We might as well make a chocolate topographic figure of Da Vinci's "Last Supper" or better yet what about a peanut butter filled, white chocolate representation of Jesus and his crown of thorns! You could even do the drops of blood in clotted strawberry cream! Or is that just too precious? I don't know, it's really your call guys. I mean if we have a chocolate cross in the world, where do we stop? Really? Can you tell me exactly what is going to be considered too much? Should I expect a marshmallow nativity scene in my stocking next Christmas? (On that note, if I do see any marshmallow nativity scenes in stores next Yuletide season I will find the CEO of your corporation, and cut him.)

But seriously, I'm okay with the Easter bunnies. I'm okay with the bubble gum eggs. I can even stand the hollow milk chocolate eggs with miniature chocolate bunnies inside! Which correct me if I'm wrong but aren't we just confusing children on the biology of rabbits here? Last time I checked rabbits don't lay eggs. Because I'm sure if they did we as people would try to find some way to make an omelets out of them. I'm almost positive. But I digress, stick to your guns people. Don't you dare step out of the well designated boundaries that society has marked out for you. We do want as many chocolate creations as you can produce, but do us a favor and leave Jesus Christ out of it.

P.S. I just stumbled upon your candy bar entitled "The Big Mo" now I might be wrong but isn't the abbreviation 'mo' usually used to describe a homosexual? So explain to me why your candy bar has a photo of a middle aged man on the wrapper above the words "CREAMY CARAMEL" Explain this one for me, because it's perplexing.

Your friend, Jordan

The Post Where I Use the Word "Fuck" Three Times

I hate the term "constructive criticism" because there is absolutely nothing 'constructive' about it. It doesn't help me in the slightest when you pick out all of my insecurities and lay them out in front of me. It doesn't change things for me, it just makes things worse. If you know me at all, you probably understand that I have large self esteem issues that I cover up with false increased self worth. I pretend that I'm the hottest being to ever walk the planet because I know I'm not. I act like the smartest individual in the room because deep down I know I'm probably the stupidest. I fake being the most talented, and the most creative, and funniest, because I know I'm not. There will always be someone funnier, or better looking, or smarter than I am. I will always be in last place, and I get that. I'm not trying to win any races, but you pointing all of these things out for me doesn't help. I'm really not trying to be down on myself, these are just things that I've come to accept. But you should have enough tact to not bring them up. you should have enough tact to remember that every time you make a fat joke at my expense I drown my sorrows in a hostess cupcake.

You know I typed that about an hour ago, and now I'm totally over it. Now I'm just being impatient that my illegal copy of the High School Musical 2 Soundtrack is taking so fucking long to download. Don't the people at Azureus realize that I lead a busy life? I bought a copy of "101 Dalmatians" today that is begging to be viewed.

So I guess what I'm saying is that if you don't like the way I am, you can fuck the fuck off, mother fucker.

Don't Be Fooled By The Locks That I Got

As I mentioned briefly in an earlier post today I cut my hair. I know that doesn't exactly sound monumental to most of you, and more like basic routine, but to me it was a tragic act. I woke up this morning after spending a week on the couch (more on that in a later post I'd expect) with a broken spirit and only one thought in my mind. This thought was that I would clearly look amazing if I were bald. Clearly this was true. Although I didn't end up going bald (thank God) the end results are just as horrifying, sadly. Unfortunately I look like I did when I was sixteen, which is much like this (and yes this is actually the picture that remains on my license to this day, if I had saved any other of my pictures from this era I would have them instead) if you didn't know me then. And because of this tragic event, I have made a list to remind myself why I should never ever cut my hair again. Ever as long as I live. And the list goes like this:

1. Because when my hair is short everyone I see becomes knowledgeable of the exact contours of my oddly shaped head.
2. Because I look like a sixteen year old virgin, instead of a twenty one year old one.
3.Because it makes my chins look even bigger.
4. Because I look like an angry lesbian. Not that I don't like lesbians, I do. I just don't want to look like one. Especially not an angry one, them bitches be vicious.
5.Because with the streak of blonde hair that I have had since birth, and a flat forehead I look like Frankenstein with a bad dye job.
6. Because now when I leave a room in a huff I can't make a dramatic exit with a whip of my head. Not that I have ever done this because I think it's a tad emasculating, it would be nice to still have the option.
7. Because do I really need to bring this up again? Looking like I'm sixteen with bad skin issues, and a double chin? Isn't that just a bit too much to handle?

Set Me Off

At the place where I have been getting my hair cut since I was five years old there is one of those large, yellow DHL drop off boxes right outside the door. As I was outside waiting for my father and smoking a cigarette after realizing that I look like an angry lesbian with my new shorn haircut (but more on that later) I was looking at the DHL drop off point. On the box (Which looked much like this one only bright yellow and with a signifigant increase in cigarette burns) it had a large label on the top that states "DHL DOES NOT ACCEPT DANGEROUS MATERIALS INCLUDING ANYTHING FLAMMABLE, CORROSIVE, OR EXPLOSIVE"

Well that is good news for safety I guess, but what does this mean for those thrifty terrorists who are just trying to watch their pennies? Would this mean that likely bomb senders would have to switch to the boys in brown at UPS? And would that even mean a savings or an increase in shipping charges? Well you no longer have to ponder the question because thankfully I did some research on the subject. With a little help from Google I found out that the average bomb weighs in at 6.5lbs. Now say someone was going to send a bomb (or any other package that weights roughly 6.5lbs) who would be the cheaper carrier? If you were going to send a package of that weight to anywhere in the world that wasn't thousands of mile but certainly not within walking distance who would be the more economical choice?

I chose Little Rock, Arkansas as my destination because first of all it's the title of a Reba Mcentire song, which sounded like a good enough reason for me, secondly it's in Arkansas and the only time I ever went there was some of the more boring parts of my life. So I figure if you're going to figure out the charges for an imaginary bomb it might as well go to Arkansas. So anyways if you were going to ship a package that weighs six point five pounds (which if you'll remember is the average weight of a bomb, not sure how this was assumed but it's the only figure I could find without throwing up some terrorists signals to the government. I'm willing to research but I'm not willing to be put on a list of possible suspects, bitches) to a distance from Lake Charles, LA to Little Rock, AK it would cost $43.86 for overnight shipping for DHL and nearly twice that much at $75.31 for UPS. So basically all I'm saying is that DHL is doing terrorists all over the world a disservice by not allowing them to ship their explosives via DHL. I mean are you really helping our economy if you can't even pass on the savings to possible mass murderers? I don't think so.


Editor's Note: I do not condone the bombing of Arkansas, or bombs, or violence at all actually.
Also just so you know, I am definitely not a terrorist so thank you and good night.