My simple guide on how to not suck at internet dating

                All my single ladies, this one is for you. Tired of being alone? Cuddling your body pillow at night? Living in Grey and Black? I’m here to fucking help you get a boyfriend off the motha fuckin’ internet. You’re probably thinking, “Right Chelsea, like I will take your advice. You haven’t had a boyfriend in like a million years.” Well, I would have one if men would just do what I want them to or if I cared about others more than I do myself. So, with that said I will tell you how to *not* get a boyfriend through online dating based off my unsuccessful experience.  If you DO NOT follow this then you will for sure have a boyfriend. Eventually.

How to *NOT* get a boyfriend via internet:

Engaging in internet dating is a perfect way to meet creepy perverts and men with low self esteem. Spend at least five days in the mirror of your bathroom taking pictures of yourself on either your camera phone or digital camera (if your don’t have either of those then picture from five years ago that you found on Friendster will do ONLY if you look skinny and fierce). Make sure to get all the right angles and that the lighting is just right. If your teeth are fucked then do a lot of pouty lip and kissy face shots. After you have picked out at least six different pictures of yourself wearing different outfits and accessories upload them on your computer.  Make sure to include at least two of the pictures with you wearing sunglasses, preferably big ones that cover the majority of your face so you look like a mysterious woman in the night. DO NOT take pictures of yourself on the toilet, you’re not using Myspace to find dates ladies. After the pictures have been uploaded go into Photoshop or whatever software you have on your computer to fix and edit them. Change at least three of the pictures to black and white and contrast the shit out of them. This will make you appear more attractive and look like you’re artistic with the camera! You can make one of them Sepia if you prefer.  Now that you look like the best enhanced version of yourself in the pictures it’s time to make your profile! I would recommend a site that doesn’t cost anything like Ok Cupid or Plenty of Fish. These sites are going to ask you to create a username and password to log in. Your username will be visible to all those bachelors so go for something slutty like 2cute2swallow or ilovecock123. Make your password easy to remember like, sortofpathetic1. Now it is time to upload your pictures. Obviously pick the best one as your main picture; it will probably be the one with you wearing sunglasses so add a witty caption that says, ‘I wear my sunglasses at night.’ This will let guys know that you are aware of shitty 80’s music.

Now that your pictures are all uploaded it’s time to add some context to that naked profile. The best part of internet dating is that you can lie! The site will ask you to describe yourself. Whatever type of person you are write the opposite of that. If you are a bubbly college student looking to meet new people in a new town then say that you are a grad student trying to make sense in this city that seems so redundant to you. Most men will see that as a green light to move forward with you because you’re looking for something new and different.  When the site asks you what your hobbies are write things that seem super fascinating like photography, running, reading, ect. Men will not be into you if you say that you enjoy watching reruns of Roseanne on TV Land in your spare time. If your hobbies really are running, reading and photography then you probably don’t need to be internet dating.

Most sites will ask what you’re looking for. This is huge. Make sure to write what you really are looking for but be sure to exaggerate a bit because duh, you did, so most likely your “perfect” man probably did the same. If you are a tall Amazon bitch then make sure you say that you’re looking for someone AT least 6’2”. Men ALWAYS lie about their height. If they write in their profile that they’re 5’10” that really means they’re 5’8”.

Now that your profile is ready to go it is time to start sifting through endless messages. This is where you can be super creative. All of the fuck wads on this site think that you are the shit from what they have seen so take your pick! After you sign up you will have a handful’s of messages from these men to choose from if you followed these rules. When you get to this point you will weed out the fatties and only concentrate on the ones that you find attractive. Once you have found those *special* few start messaging them, always make sure to use the thesaurus and dictionary so that you sound smarter than you really are. 

If one of the the internet hotties want to meet you then agree!  Recommend a bar to go to. The lighting in bars is always very dim so you will look more attractive and you can get drunk!

Before you go on your date drink at least three bottles of beer to calm the nerves. Go to the bar to meet the guy and talk mostly about your father and how he abandoned you. This will make the guy think you have “daddy” issues and that you’re an easy fuck. He will ask you to come back to his place so DO IT duh, you’re drunk as shit and he is o.k. looking.

This is where it gets serious bitches. Once you get back to his place sober the fuck up. Ask for some water, juice, Tylenol and bread. Look around for pictures of him with other people. Ask who those people are. Ask him what his relationship is like with his grandparents. Ask him what his best score in Pac Man is, I don’t care what you ask him just do not imply that you have a vagina. You do NOT want to fuck this douchebag. He is going to try to have his way with you. DO NOT let that happen. If he starts kissing you on your neck and you start to feel week then you can dry-hump him but DO NOT fuck this tool. If you can’t control yourself and do resort to dry-humping him eventually cyber-perv will make a mess in his pants and then you can laugh and say you have to go.

After this happens go to Taco Bell order a bean burrito fresco style, go home, eat your burrito, delete your online dating profile and go to bed and cuddle your body pillow. 

What I Learned In 2010

                                                        What I have learned in 2010




1. I get nothing done after 8:00 p.m. unless it involves beer
2. Homeless people and stray cats are exactly alike, if you give them a cigarette once they will always ask you for one
3. I don’t like homeless people
4. Not having the internet is a cheap excuse for going to the bar and spending too much money on booze
5. Downloading music illegally will resolve in your lap top getting AIDS
6. Having a land lady that is in her 80’s is great because you always get shortbread and decaf coffee when you pay your rent
7. I like the song ‘Almost Crimes’ better acoustic than I do the album version
8. Chris Farley actually did more than just yell out what he was saying
9. I still really like the color green after all these years
10. Having a baby is nothing like having a cat because you can’t change a babies name two weeks after birth
11. I spend way too much money renting sitcoms and way too much time watching them
12. Jason Schwartzman shows up in media when you least expect it
13. I still quote lines from “The Hangover”
14. I’m not racist, I thought I was because I know a black person who smells real bad and I don’t like bad smells so I associated his color with that, but after smelling other black people I have realized that it is just the one person that smells that way
15. If you compliment Taco Bell employee’s on their customer service you might get free cinnamon twists
16. Golden Harvest is the only place to go in Lansing for breakfast
17. I get so excited about the Beastie Boys that I run into walls
18. Hiring people at a coffee shop that wear glasses usually works out well
19. I need a new pair of glasses
20. You really only do need five hours of sleep to stay alive the next day
21. Getting business cards really does make you feel better about yourself
22. I will never cut my hair short again
23. Notorious B.I.G was really the greatest rapper to ever live
24. I discovered a way to make old newspaper into art
25. Having a Facebook account is almost as bad as having a cocaine addiction
26. Power chugging PBR is a good way to power through being tired
27. LaToya is really good at making vegan cupcakes
28. I am only stuck on myself because I am not stuck on someone else
29. I will never home school my unborn child
30. The only things I crave when I am hung over is Earth and Jar and fountain soda
31. I still can’t spell the word ‘definitely’ without using spell check or T9
32. I can go a week without having a cell phone
33. I will never drink Whiskey again
34. Mates of State make any Sunday morning better
35. I secretly wish I worked at a Laundromat so that I could wear sweatpants every day to work
36. Going to the hospital without insurance is a close second to getting raped in the ass
37. Waffle fries taste better with vegan queso dip
38. Having a small bathroom is nice when you need to pee and wash your hands at the same time
39. Applebees has karaoke on Wednesday nights
40. I love living with gay men
41. I have the power to walk away from someone if they are boring me with what they’re saying
42. If alcohol is left at my house I will drink it
43. My cats are happy playing with wine corks and lighters
44. Brown rice is only good if it’s cooked thoroughly
45. You can get a ticket if you spend “too much” time in the left hand lane on the interstate
46. I still love to see people slip and fall
47. Smoking pot ends up in me falling asleep with potato chips in my mouth and dumpster mouth in the morning
48. I only like men if they’re at least five years older than me
49. Comic Sans font is only appropriate if used in 1996 while IMing and internet boyfriend that lives in New York
50. I’m fucking awesome

Do not read if you have children, values, or love Mariah Carey

        Alright Bitches, let’s talk about Christmas. What I really want to know is what sort of gifts were being be given around Bethlehem on the 25th?? Last time I checked Jesus was getting Mirth and Frankincense. Not digital cameras and Mad Men season two on DVD. I want to zap back to the good ol’ days of BC and give people cigarette ashes and say that they are getting long fancy words like youngjuvelicious and everyone will think I am giving them something real great and spectacular.


         Seriously, my apartment looks like Santa’s retarded workshop. I have an absolute love/hate relationship with Christmas. I love it because, duh, I get presents like Mad Men season two on DVD. ALSO, I can blame my alcohol addiction on the Holidays. God bless spirits. I hate it because due to my alcohol addiction I have to use my artistic ability to make everyone I love homemade presents. I know what you’re thinking, “Chelsea, nobody wants a macaroni ornament.” Duh, I know that. If there is was one thing you should know by now that is that I am the shit and I give awesome homemade presents. ANYWAY, back to what else I hate about Christmas.. The fucking music. I turned Christmas music on at the coffee shop the first week of December and at first, I was a bit fuzzy inside. There is nothing like the beginning of the season when you hear, “All I Want for Christmas” by Mariah Carey. Come the eighteenth time you wish that the fat bitch would choke on a ham sandwich Mama Cass style. Which by the way I am still not convinced that was really what happened to her, but that’s a story for a different time. We have all seen Love Actually, we all know how it ends up, so suck it Mariah.

           Speaking of Christmas and the birth of Jesus, let’s talk about the birth of my child that hasn’t happened… But, could have.

             Since I was fourteen I have been getting my period and it has always been on time right down to the time. The eve before Thanksgiving eve I hooked up with a guy and from what I remember it was stellar. Last week I was supposed to get my period on Wednesday. Come Friday, still no dice. This is when I began to panic a little. This is also when I am grateful that I have the world’s greatest friends. I called Joe Joe and told him about my predicament and he immediately made me feel better by saying that he would put my abortion on his credit card so that he could get reward points. By this point I am sure you all know that I ended up getting my period and that I am going to burn in Hell. Well, that may be so, but I can live with that. Just like I can live with the fact I won’t be getting a child I don’t want this year for Christmas.

Audrey's Back Bitches!

Okay bitches, I know it's been a while and I can spend the rest of this post explaining why I have been absent but I am not going to because just like doing my laundry, I don't feel like it. I would rather just spray it with febreeze and pretend it never happened. So instead I am going to start this with telling you what I hate most right now and why. I am going to make a list and label it "Things I Hate Right Now and Why". I fucking love lists. I also have just recently re-opened my love for Garbage. The band, not trash you perves. But, this is not the time for things I love.. That is in another segment I like to call, "Tequila".




Things I Hate Right Now



- Fucking Snow-- Cute, comfortable boots are incredibly hard to find ever since Captain Retard Ugg introduced the ugliest footwear ever.. This has caused me to only buy boots with a kitten heel.. A kitten heel is the nugget child of a real heel.. Not enough to make you look like an Amazon but just enough to cause a deathly slip on ice and make the clacking noise on hardwood floors. I fucking love that noise. But again, this is not the time for things I love.


-Nylons-- Nylons are SHIT. They don't even compare to the durable stretchiness of tights. Every pair of Nylons I have put on in the past month have snagged a huge whole right in the crotch do to my winter toenails. *Memo to self.. fucking peticure.


-Mittens-- These fuzzy wool hand protectors look all fine and cozy on the inside but if you are a cigarette smoker they are the worst things ever invented. I would rather have cold, chapped Betty White hands than catch on fire while lighting a cigarette.



-Cardboard-- This one should be self explanitory.. And for all you dummies, I have two words for you... Cardboard papercuts. Actually, is papercut one or two words? Whatevs.


-Cat Hair-- Though my nuggets are the cutest of the cute even if Borris is Satan and Viktor is a slut I still love them.. What I hate is that they shed all over my entire wardrobe of black. Two things you should know.. 1. I got Borris a boyfriend, Viktor.. 2. About two years ago I only started to buy black clothing.. you never know when a funeral is on the verge and there is never a wrong time to run into a room and say, "Audrey's Back!"


-Jameson-- This one is big. Whiskey is the Devils juice. If you want to wake up with a random man in your bed, a headache and a gold chain on your nighstand then by all means knock yourself out but from now on I will leave the Whiskey to the man in the bar reading David Lynch.


-Facebook-- I have a never ending feeling of love/hate with Facebook. I love it becase it destracts me from actually working at my job but I hate it because I hate status updates. Nobody cares about your kids or your husband or your dog.. I promise. ALSO-- Right now on Facebook "everyone" is changing their profile picture to their favorite childhood cartoon to stop child abuse or raise awareness for child abuse. Just so everyone know's.. A sixteen year old girl was bored at home one night and thought about her favorite childhood cartoon, "Catdog". She wanted to make this her profile picture but didn't want to look stupid, so she sent out a status saying that by showing everyone else what stupid show you liked growing up people would stop hitting their children. I don't give into any of this bullshit. If I want to raise awareness I will do by spitting and swearing at the assholes that hit their kids.. OR by calling child protective services.



This concludes my list of things I hate right now. I am going to sign off by saying this.. I just had business cards made and that pretty much means that I am better than you.

Pete and Pete... A Fallen Tale

Guess who is at home AND on the internet!??!!?


MEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!


Just kidding. I really do not know why I said that because it's more of a cruel joke on me and not you guys. Everyone who is reading this is probably at home, on the internet, in bed, having grapes fed to them.

What a perfect reminder. -buy grapes at store-

Any fucking way--- Let's talk about Danny Tamberelli and Mike Maronna. Two of the biggest Nickelodeon stars in the 90's. I'm not sure if you have ever heard of a little fucking show called, "Pete and Pete", but it was a pretty big deal. Steve Buscemi played the neighbor for Petes sake. Haha, see what I did there? Petes sake. Anyway, last night before I went to bed I started getting all of the "retard thoughts" that I usually get before I drift off and one of them was more so a question.. "What the fuck are Danny Tamberelli and Mike Maronna doing with their lives these days?" I often wonder the same question about all the fallen 90's sitcom TV brothers.. Like, those two adorable twins from 'Full House'. And, I'm not talking about Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen, we all know that they're paaaaaaaiiiiid. I am talking about Nicky and Alex... Remember them? Or what about those two kids from the show, 'My Brother and Me'.. Remember them? So, last night while in fake retard land I decided that I would do all of this research to find out where these poor sapps are now, what they're doing with their life and write about it. But, now that I am in real life all of that seems like way too much work, I'm not employed by VH1 or E and I really need to start working on my Christmas list because someone asked me a few days ago what I wanted for Christmas and I told them Coffee Filters. What the fuck?

I am sorry if this post doesn't make much sense and is poorly written but I don't actually know when my posts do make much sense and are well written.. So, I take that sorry back and will now put it in my back pocket for when I accidentally run over a child on my bike.

40 things I would do if I had the Internet

40 things that I would do if I had the Motha Fuckin' Internet

1. Post my blogs more regularly
2. Check my emails more often because unlike everyone else who has a fancy phone, I do not
3. Update and manage the social networking I do for work and my own personal life
4. Check out Craigslist for free/cheap things
5. Wiki different instruments people are selling on Craigslist
4. Buy used instruments off Craigslist
5. Use YouTube to learn how to play my new instruments
6. Start a band
7. Buy a webcam
8. Just kidding, buy a new computer with a camera in it
9. Just kidding again, buy a webcam because I am poor
10.Start a Skype account
11.Start using Chat Roulette
12.Make sweet videos and put them on YouTube
13.Work out more because I will be a YouTube star
14.Join a yoga class
15.Quit smoking cigarettes
16.Not go into work as often as I do to use free wi-fi
17.Paint my nails
18.Remove my nail polish because I don't have a Gypsy Prince with the body of a Greek God to do my dishes
19.Talk to my family more
20.Set up an Etsy account
21.Buy a sewing machine off Craigslist
22.YouTube how to sew
23.Make things and sell them on Etsy and at work
24.Start making all of my own outfits just like Romy and Michelle
25.Call my grandma more often
26.Make a sweet web page for the band
25.Set up an EBay account
26.Buy old shit that looks like it could be worth a lot of money
25.Go on the Antique Roadshow
26.Ramble to the auctioneer about my bands struggle to make it big, my YouTube stardom, our bands web page address

and my email
27.Find out that what I was selling was worth a lot of money and that my tape will be played on air
28.Get discovered by a head boss that runs some big Media Company in New York City who likes to get wasted and watch the Antique Roadshow
29.Move to New York City
30.Become a huge success by starting THE BEST SOCIAL NETWORKING SITE IN THE WORLD
31.Tour with my band world wide
32.Open my own Coffee Shop/Boutique
33.Start my own clothing line
34.Go clubbin' with Beyonce
35.Pay my rent at my sweet loft twelve months in advance
36.Marry a hot professor that teaches at Columbia
37.Have lots of babies
38.Adopt a few babies
39.Buy a basketball team
40.MOVE TO SINGAPORE

Do you see?!? I neeeeeeeeed the Motha Fuckin' Internet!

"The Plan" -- Also- I had a really good picture for this but Blogger wouldn't let me update it and that is stupid.

Let's take a second to talk about, "The Plan". You know the plan. Even the fatty that looks like John Goodman in the back with the plaid shirt on knows what the plan is. (side note, I don't know why but I always want to spell 'knows' like 'noes'.. probably because it rhymes with 'toes') ANYWAY, back to the motha fuckin' plan. Until just recently, between my sub conscious and my evil twin sister, Nelsea, I had thought my plan had completely derailed. That was until I realized that I am going to be different. I am starting, The Motha Fuckin' Awesome Chelsea Plan.
No worries, this is not an attempt to take over the world Pinky and The Brain style, this is just an easy way to say that you don't have to get your college degree at the age of twenty-two and you can still be the fucking bomb.

College is all fine and well and I will eventualllllllyyyyyy get a degree someday in something that will probably have nothing to do with the killer coffee shop I am going to open. But, college isn't everything. Sure, it is a great way to meet super hot professors, drink free beer, and learn about chlorophyll. But, does college teach you to remember to feed your cat? Will it teach you to protect yourself if you're getting mugged on the street? ALSO- I have yet to see a college diploma take the trash out. I live in a college town. Every thug and betty has their degree. A degree + no experience = a Sad Betty.

There are no Sad Betty's on The Motha Fuckin' Awesome Chelsea Plan. I actually did it right, bitches. When I am twenty-eight, have my degree, have experience, and still have killer legs I will be a Happy Betty and I will make it rain in the club every day.

So I guess what I am trying to say is make up your own mind, be your own person and always use protection.

Wow, that was somewhat inspiring. Fucking go me!

Disclaimer: The Arcade Fire is hands down one of the best bands, you must like this band to be on The Motha Fuckin' Awesome Chelsea Plan.

All My Single Ladies?

Is it sad that the longest relationship I've had is with the Norton Security software on my computer? We're in the middle of a break-up right now though. It has been going on for about three years now and the first year was great! He served his purpose of fulfilling what I needed from him and still gave me my space.. It was really nice. The second year wasn't as great, he started to question my commitment to him by asking me if this was legit like three times a week. But now, he has really fucking derailed. He is popping up all over the place, needy as hell,  whenever I am in the middle of something important.. "Renew?!?! Are you going to Renew me? Don't you love me anymore? Renew, Renew, Renew!" No, Fuck off. This relationship has expired just like the orange juice in my refrigerator. So, if anyone knows any other software that will protect me, I am on the market! -Insert single ladies chorus here-

Let's talk about that. My dating life. I average about three dates every two weeks and it seems like I keep going out with these pompous Betties. You know, the real pretty ones that almost look gay and claim they aren't because they play the guitar and have a beard and listen to underground hip-hop music, but only because of political reasons. Which makes no sense to me. At all. I would never think it would be that hard to find a straight man, that is a vegetarian who dresses like Mr. Rogers, who has a good job as a social worker or kindergarten teacher, that will do my dishes and not judge me for eating four buckets of popcorn at the movies. Something you must know about me.. we may have discussed this, but, I fucking love a good deal. If there are free refills on something I am so getting down with it. And, popcorn in my favorite food so suck it, really. ALSO- This perfect male must be smart enough to tell me not to give our children lighters and wine corks to play with like I do my cat.

Double also-- Remind me to please never be one of those people who say, "I don't need a boyfriend, I have my cat."

Triple also--tonight is my last night with Bernie Mac. I know you're probably thinking.. "Umm, Chelsea.. your last night with Bernie Mac was like three years ago." And, I meant the dog, dummies.

I met somebody once that actually would go home to watch Bernie Mac reruns on channel 5 at 7:00 and 7:30. This person never became my friend.

Notorious BIG and Moldy Bread

     Would you like to know what is even worse than when you go to make a sandwich and you realize that there is mold on the bread? Let me tell you.. Not having the motha fucking internet. I seriously open my lap top, (which is missing keys because Borris is trying to improve his typing skills using his razor claws.. Good for him though, forty-seven w.p.m is impressive for a cat) Turn on my ITunes, put on some motha fuckin' Missy Elliot and I click on the two double computers with a bold red X going through them that indicate that I do not have access to the best thing in the universe, in hopes that someone has moved in near by with an unsecured internet connection. Preferably an extreme hot gypsy king with the body of a Greek God. But guess what..?? That never fucking happens. So then I pick up my lap top, move to every location in my apartment, including closets, continue to click the double computers that are now laughing at me, and no fucking dice. So then I play solitaire.. for probably way longer than anyone should. I'm on the expert level now, sort of a big deal. Those dancing cards that appear when you defeat the game is a sweet reminder of success.

   Speaking of success, I have managed to keep more than four beverage choices in my fridge at any given time since I have moved into my apartment. Kool-aid? I got it. Coke Zero? Yeah, I got that too. And I ALWAYS have soy milk. Fucking crucial. Except when you come home from seriously gettin' yo drink on and wake up in the middle of the night, thirsty as shit, go to the fridge with retard crusty eyes, reach for whatever you grab first, chug it and then say, "fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuccccccckkkkkk... soy miiiilllllllkkkkkkkkkkk... Why couldn't I have grabbed the peach infused pomegranate juice!?!?!?" -insert sad face here-

Oh yeah, and by the way.. this picture that I drew has nothing to do with anything, really.. Except for the fact that I would buy a gold grill before I would buy braces.

PS. Will somebody please buy me one of those electric coffee mug thingies to keep my coffee warm so that when I walk away to make a moldy sandwich I don't come back and say, "fuuuuuuuuuuuuccccccccccck... cold cooooofffffffeeeeeeeeeeeeee." -one more sad face-

PPS. Please remind me to never again answer my phone at 4:00 in the morning when I see that it is Joe Joe, LaToya and Lazor calling from Vegas because more than likely it is just going to be them screaming things in  a different language. And that language is drunk retard screaming language.

You should ALWAYS tip your barista

So.. listen to this, bitches. The owner at the coffee shop I currently spend way too much of my life at just told me a day ago that he will now be getting halfsies on the tip share that comes in while he is there. Back in the good ol' days.. (yesterday) whomever worked with the owner, or from now on as we will call him, indian giving slut, wouldn't except tips and the baristas working would split them upon themselves. This was a huge boner for me

because the majority of my shifts consist of just him and myself. So, with that said, on a normal Wednesday morning I would work ten hours and walk with at least fifteen dollars.. but now, it will be 7.50. I am not sure if Indian Giving Slut is aware that I use that money for VERY important things... such as, feeding Satan, beer, cigarettes, envelopes, water bottles I use to squirt Satan, condoms, and most importantly... Beer.

So, when I am slaving away making the perfect latte, providing the MOST prestine customer service and attempting to be "nice" to bloodfart, Indian Giving slut will be in the back office on his computer googling different ways to improve his triatholon times and still collect my hard earned cash to buy new spandex and bibles. Does anyone else know how fucking hard it is to be nice to people? Is it just me? Does the cheese stand alone on this one? Ew, I can't believe I just compared myself to cheese. Memo to self, never do that again.. unless it's Munster.. that shit is actually pretty good. And, it makes me think of Eddie Munster. I wonder what he is up to these days and if he still has that wicked white stripe in his hair.

On another note, will someone please start paying me to make them speghetti or something? I really need to get the internet at my apartment. Bars that offer free wi-fi fucking rule but, this is probably why I can't afford internet in the first place.

I wish you could live in bars. Minus the whole not smoking thing. Oh yeah, and those "E-Cigarettes" are fucking bullshit.

It's Saturday, so peace out bitches.

Why Bernie Mac is staying at my house

Satan cat is going to eat my sisters dog. I know what you're thinking about this photo. But, fuck off. This is the best I can do being slightly hung over and still heavily sedated on pain killers. And, no. I am not a chronic pill head I actually have a legit prescription for them. I blew out my shoulder/neck on Sunday and had to go to the hospital and everything. Though the pain went away on Tuesday and it is now Saturday, I never feel the need to be wasteful.

Anyway, back to this piece of shit picture. I am dog sitting for the week for LaToya and Lazor when they waste their life savings in Vegas. They have a pug and it looks remarkably like Bernie Mac. He is actually pretty cute though, I only say that because I have a thing for big black men. Satan kitty wants to fuck his shit up though. I feel like I should be hosting some sort of dog/cat fight but last time I checked that is illegal and as a vegetarian I don't see how that would favor my whole love for animals thing.

Let's talk about something a little more important, my last twenty-four hours. If you judge me I will fucking derail on you. Just kidding. Sort of. I was quite productive and went to the laundromat which we discussed in my last post. I then rode my bike to Old Town Lansing in attempts to go to Bluesfest and then turned right back around because I realized I was way to drunk to be seen in public by people who probably weren't as shit wrecked as I was. So I went home and spent about fifty-seven minutes attempting to make a grilled cheese sandwich. I know, how hard is it to fry some fucking bread? The worst part is that I have a do it yourself grilled cheese maker. Which by the way, everyone should own. The only reason it took my this long was because I was also in the middle of a Gossip Girl marathon and I kept burning the shit.

I think I am the only one who spends a Friday night wasted watching Gossip Girl and burning grilled cheese. In my defense I was going to stumble to the bar but nobody would have talked to me even though I was looking quite fierce in my black sweatpants and Mickey Mouse sweatshirt that I cut the neck off of to make it look super cool and hipster. If I were to have a conversation with someone it would have probably ended up with me lieing about everything because that is what I do when I drink too much. I once told someone that I was tambourine player in an amazing folk band and we were about to tour the world with Mates of State.

Hands down, I am the BEST person to party with.

That is all, peace out bitches.

My love hate relationship with the laundromat

I usually spend my Fridays like anyone else would, doing laundry, going to the strip club, drinking coffee, taking shots of tequila, grocery shopping, going to the bank, having sex with black men, mowing my neighbors yard, playing Pictonary with my cat, doing crosswords at a burrito bar, pointing at the white trash people that live down the road and cleaning Satan's litter box.

But, I fucking hate the laundromat. If I made two hundred extra dollars a month I would pay someone to do my laundry for me. I would say fifty dollars but my shit stiiiiiinnnnnnnkkkkkkkks.

By the way, doesn't the sink I drew in this "cartoon" look like a face? I thought so too.

peace out bitches.

How to lose track of a decade

Listen bitches... I know you are all probably extremely upset for my lack of blogging lately, but seriously, I am fucking important. So we should start Here.

Okay, so, in the last three months this is what my life has entailed.. I got my own place, fucking score. I live there with my cat, Borris, who I am certain attempts to kill my while I sleep. He has a little bit of Satan in him and though I pretend it doesn't bother me because I am a big fan of Satan and all of his work, it sort of does.

Tito and Victor can both burn in hell. Actually, they can burn in heaven. I wouldn't want them anywhere near the master himself, Satan. I know what you're thinking.. "Chelsea, when did you get to be so into Satan?" And well, the truth is I have no fucking clue. Probably as of this morning when I woke up and Borris was laying on top of me with red devil eyes planning his attack. Anyway, back to Tito and Victor.. They live upstairs from me and refuse to reason with me on a simple bill that we share.. All of that shit is super boring to you. My revenge to them is that I put porn on 24/7 as loud as it goes on my tv. And, when I have sex in my house I am as loud as humanly possible even if the sex sucks. Sorry to the boys I have slept with in the past couple months but, it probably wasn't that great.

ALSO- I got promoted at my job at the coffee shop which is still a huge surprise to me because I come in slightly hung over every day and write my phone number on the cups to every man I find slightly attractive or at least the men I think would be good to bring home and sleep with. I have recently only started dating older men. I like this. If I had a therapist they would probably tell me it is because I have "Daddy Issues" but what the fuck does that mean really. I just want someone to take me to PF Changs. Shit.

I interviewed Adam Lambert and we talked for twenty minutes about the spot in his head that his stylist shaved off for him which really doesn't matter anymore because that was back in June and I am sure it has grown back now. Nobody will even know who Adam Lambert is in a few months from now.

My friend Gigi gave me this sweet vintage jacket that I was skeptical about at first but she was all, "Chels it looks fucking great on you." and I was all, "I don't know it has really big sleeves" and she was all "Whatever sleeves are in this year" So with that said, I guess sleeves are big this year. Literally.

 So Anyway,  I am still fucking fabulous and that is the most important thing, right?

Why I wish Dr. Dre was my dad

At one time or another I am sure all of us have wished that our parents were celebrities. My sister has always wished that Christopher Walkin was her dad. This girl I once met, who was in her early 20's once told me that she wanted Ashton Kutcher to be her dad. When I asked the girl why, she said, "because he's hotttt." Excuse me?? What do you mean, because he's hot?? Are you planning on fucking your dad, lady??

I want Dr. Dre to be my dad so bad you guys. I know most of you have forgotten about Dre.. But, I think he would really be the dream dad. I Can only imagine how sweet my life would be if Dr. Dre was my dad. I would have so much gold it would look like Lil' Wayne and Cleopatra threw up on me. I would probably walk everywhere I went just so I could blind people with my bling, but still, I would have an unnecessary amount of cars, or "whips" as my fake celebrity dad, Dr. Dre would say. I bet if he was my dad I would have an Uncle Cent an Uncle Dogg and an Uncle Eminem. Also, growing up I would never have been in trouble if, What would he say? "You're grounded for getting caught smoking cigarettes." "Excuse me?? Are you serious right now, dad???? You were in a gang.... You've shot people... You and Uncle Dogg smoke 10 blunts in our basement a day." My favorite part about my fake life where my Dr. Dre is my dad is the posse and the nicknames I would have.. Lil Dre, Chelsea Dre, Dr. Chelsea. Those names actually don't sound sweet at all. You know what does sound sweet though??





Hang gliding.

a little ramble and why you should never eat oreo's in public

Ok, we are going to start now. I don't have very much time. Actually, that's not true I have as much time as it took for me to figure out why Tito has DJ Sammy on his IPod..... 30 minutes. It would have been 20 but it took me an additional 10 to realize that DJ Sammy was not the same artist I was thinking of.

And now I have just wasted about 7 minutes. It would have been 5 but I spent 2 staring at the wall. Seriously, anyway, there is something I must tell everyone and that is that if you are eating an Oreo and somebody asks you a question, be prepared that when you open your mouth it is going to look like someone shit in it. This is not attractive.. and even though the person asking you the question knows you are eating the Oreo, they are still going to think you're weird because it's going to look like you have shit in your mouth. So, that is the tip of the day I guess. Oh yeah, and don't sweat the petty things and don't pet the sweaty things. Ok, now that I have done my part in being a good citizen I can be free to go do all of the best things with my day.

LUDA, LUDA, LUDACRIS!!!! and my 20 minute conversation with victors mom.

I Woke-up, had coffee, talked to Joe Joe for an hour.

Joe Joe: My sassy, delicious, awesome, most fantastic, vegantastic, aspiring governor of New York, home owning, gardening, gentle, house building, super tall friend.

Blah, blah, blah.. Let's start here.

phone conversation

Me: Hey Carol
Carol (Victors mom): Hi sweetie! (*my name for all of my friends moms who can't remember my name)
Me: Carol, do you mind if I ask you a few questions for an article we are putting together for The City Pulse on the history of gay bars in Lansing?
Carol: Oh well, I don't know if I could be much use to you, I didn't go out much in the 60's.. I'll tell you what I didn't go out much when I was in my 60's, I mean when I lived in the 60's
Me: Whatever you can help me with is fine Carol, no worries either way.
Carol: Oh well ok, that sounds good.... Like I said though I wasn't really going out much in the 60's and 70's I had just graduated high school in 1967 and I'll tell you what I didn't go out very much. I was definitely not going to gay bars.
Me: Why not?
Carol: Oh that was all hush, hush.. I have only been to a gay club one time in my life when I was in Atlanta and I went with my sword swallowing friend who dressed in drag and did acrobats, oh sweetie, it was a great time.
Me: anytime you are with a sword swallower it's a good time.
courtesy awkward laugh
Me: Oh Carol.
Carol: Oh I just wish I could be more help but well, I just didn't go out to any gay clubs in the 60's or 70's. (*no, you are not fucked up, Carol has said the a few times.)
Me: Carol, may I ask, what did you do after high school if you weren't out partying and shakin' your thing?
Carol: Oh well, I got kicked out of my mama's house and then I got 2 jobs. I worked 2 jobs and then I got married. And then I divorced. And then I got married. And then I worked a few jobs. And then I got divorced. And then I had a kid. And then I got married. And then I sold knock off hand bags on the side of the road. Just kidding that never happened. And then I got divorced. And then I got another job. And then I got married.(*this is still going on) And then I had another kid. And then I got divorced. And then I had a boyfriend. And then I had menopause. And then I got 2 jobs. I didn't really have time to go out.
Me: Carol, you're life is so adventurous! I bet you have lived in a lot of different houses.
Carol: .... I was a gypsy in my past life...
super. awkward. pause.
Me: Okay well Carol, It was super great talking to you...
Carol: Oh yes dear, I am just so sorry I couldn't be more help to you. If I would have went out in the 60's and 70's I guess I would have more to say.
Me: That's ok.

After another 3 attempts to get her off the phone I finally just gave her back to Victor while she was in mid sentence...... Carol's a drinker.

Oh, let's see what else is exciting in my life. Oh yeah, I am interviewing Ludacris next month.

If you're jealous it's because you should be.

i would never take claim to being roseanne barr's fashion stylist in her 90's sitcom. no fucking way.

It is day 2 of Twatface's HIV and I am starting to feel like I am really neglecting her in this time of need. Instead of rushing in to get her fixed I continue to procrastinate and stare at her tucked behind the couch as I eat a cigarette. I mean freezer pop. Sorry. I was looking at a cigarette as I typed that. I also don't know why I am referring to my laptop as a female I don't even refer to Rupaul in such a way. Anyway, using Tito's computer has really got me to wondering what the definition of a computer is. I have always been under the assumption that a computer is a machine that you compute data to and it does what YOU the owner tells it to. This is not true. The definition of computer is: Computer- crazy, stressful, clusterfuck of aggravation. And this is where I start getting mad at myself for picking on a fucking computer. Seriously, there are so many other things going on that I can be doing or focusing on. I have always wanted to master different positions that may come in handy while playing Twister. Also, I have been meaning to make Louise (cat) a fort. I don't have to spend any of my time thinking of different ways to demolish any "computer". I just really need to deal with it and move on.

So, moving on. I am so stoked to start pimping out my 20SB Page. I am so fucking stoked on it you guys, and you should be to.

survey says: what a bust. but on a good note, i'm not bald.

We'll begin here. I don't know why but, about 87% of the time I write my title to my posts in all smaller case letters. I know the correct way to make a sentence and yet I still do it that way. Weird. Also, about 85% of the time I just want to be Lady Gaga. Anyway, seriously, what I am about to type has nothing to do with what I just wrote. Sorry.

There are two things that scare me more frequently then being bald and losing all of my teeth. Those things are:

1. Waking up and not having any coffee
2. My computer crashes before I finally get around to backing up a universe of everything that makes my life complete.

So, I have been using a computer for the majority of my life. You would think along the way someone would have told me that spyware software isn't a scam? Did anyone else know that your computer doesn't just automatically fix and rid any poisonous shit that it encounters on a day to day bases, unless you have a Mac. Somebody did once tell me that Apple computers are the Magic Johnson of computers. So, with that said I'll bring you up to speed. I wish I would have bought a Mac and my computer has a virus. I know you're probably thinking that I am freaking out over this and I am, but, I don't know how serious it is. I'm not a computer doctor so I think that it is best to try and stay calm until the real computer doctors figure it out. I am hopeful and you should all be too. We'll get through this. But, until I get twatface (the name of my computer) to the doctor I will be using Tito's Macintosh to write my posts and it is a dinosaur space machine, if that makes sense, so there will be no pictures on my blurbs. So, deal with it I guess.

Also, I haven't had any coffee yet and I have been up for 3 hours now. Fuck.

I am pretty sure someone just dumped their trash on me.

I am writing this post from my grave because I am pretty sure that I am dead. I am perma-hungover. I have complete dumpster mouth and I smell like vomit and trash. Do you remember in my last post when I said I was going to get super shitty? Ta da, the end result. What the fuck happened last night? Why is it when I am faded I turn into the most generous person in the United States of America? Seriously, why the fuck do I spend money on people I don't know? How did I lose my pack of cigarettes? Why did I steal the microphone from the karaoke set to say, "Someone here stole my cigarettes and I want them back."? Why didn't I get kicked out after that? How did I get back to my friends house? Why have I been starring at the wall for 20 minutes? Why am I not brushing my teeth? Seriously, fuck.

latoya.

There is something I feel you guys should know about me other than the fact that I just spelled 'know' 'no'.. I have an older sister. I don't talk about her much because, well, she's kind of a thug..... In a gang. Her name is LaToya and she's half black. Back in the 80's my mom went through a jungle fever faze and slept with a fellow Boogie Down Productions follower. 9 months later little LaToya was born. Growing up I always thought she was vicious, she used to pick on me so bad, I'm pretty sure it was because I am white and every now and again I would catch her in the bathroom putting baby powder all over here body to make herself appear white. As she got older she really grew into her blackness. In high school she started hanging out with the scary girls. Not the girls who thought they were scary because they had cornrows and talked loud. No, she hung out with the girls who rolled one pant leg up and wore bandannas. Our family started really worrying about her but when we tried to mention something about the way she acted she would threaten to kill us. She actually said, "Bitches better shut the fuck up yous asses will be getting capped up in hur, I fucking kill you." Excuse me Latoya? What does that even mean? Was that English?

Things have gotten a lot worse now. She has been in and out of jail on several different occasions for drugs, arson, and shooting someone in the face. They didn't die or anything though. We are all very scared for her.


Just. FUCKING. Kidding.

My older sister is a librarian in Canada. She lives there with her husband, Lazor. Also, her name is not LaToya, but that's what I am going to call her from here on out. Okay just so you are all caught up, let's recap.

LaToya- My older, white librarian sister, lives in Canada, her real name is -------, loves to eat bacon, just kidding, she's vegan.
Lazor- LaToya's husband, plays the keyboard, aspires to be a base jumper, and kills Nazis on a day to day bases.

Got it? Good, let's move on.

LaToya and I are really close. Though she lives in Canada we still keep it real via text, cell phone and IM. She's always like, "Hey I'm at some boring library convention thingy and I'm meeting all of these boring people blah, blah, blah, you're not listening, I know you're not, blah, blah, blah." And so I say, "Blah, blah, I just got my arms waxed, blah, blah." That's usually how it goes. But, she's the shit. Always. I feel like if anyone were to hurt her I would kill them. I would seriously fucking shoot them in the head. And, I'm at work right now, so I have to make a latte. Fuck.





I'm back, only to say that I am going to party my ass off this weekend. I can't believe how fucking shitty I am going to get. I am going to get so shitty. Shitty awesome.