Top 5 things I LOVE about my girl, Mishy

I am noticing a distinct lack of comments on this engaging, new, top 5 series. RUDE.

1) She will, in all seriousness, do the "sexy dance" that Bird and I created to secure her a marriage proposal. You're welcome, cuz that sh*t worked.

2) She is the BEST, most laid-back travelling buddy ever. She goes with the flow, which is extremely rare in a group full of hardcore Bs like we got going up in here. I am including myself in that tally. I likes my way. Cuz it's right. Duh.

3) She co-founded this RAD club. It has been a far greater success than our ill-fated scrapbook club.

4) She will go full-on J-Lo and lay on the bow (that's rich boat talk for hood) of a boat drinking cocktails while it is dead in the middle of the Caribbean.

5) She will get wasted, puke, pass out, then rally and make molten cakes for everyone! BEST RALLY EVER.

Much love, gurl.

Top 5 things I LOVE about my gurl, Rach

So, this is obviously part 1 of a 7 part series, so ladies get ready for your own personal shout out. Why, you ask? Because I love the sh*t out of all of you and I don't care who knows it. Sappy love is the new black, duh. Oh and I don't think you are reading my awesome blog posts anymore and I know you will if they are about you and not my kid. Way to be selfish, ladies.

So, here goes:

1) Upon being served vodka out of a giant spigot, she asks, "Gabe, what kind of vodka is this?" Like they put top shelf vodka in a SPIGOT? Presh.

2) Upon sitting down at a blackjack table with 5 other awesome HFGBC hotties and dudes, she asks the dealer to "name which Friends characters we are!" Then, she corrects the dealer for incorrectly labeling me "Phoebe."

3) She always carries a gorgeous, rich, designer purse, but when she sees a friend with Glad Press-n-Seal, she declares it "RICH"!!!

4) She gets all her maternity clothes at Forever 21 or the Teen Mom section of Motherhood.

5) She treats her daughter's birthday parties as if they were the f'ing Catalina Wine Mixer.

Love you, gurl.

Gonna make you sweat 'til you bleed. Is that dope enough? Indeed.

Bet y'all thought this blog was Dubai (remember: Dubai is Iphone for Dunzo - looks who's rich with an Iphone 3G - holla)! Oh hell to the no this blog is not Dubai. To prove it, I have a new post for yo a$$. And it's a list. And it's about running. Wait for it...

Here goes - my new top ten list of songs to listen to while I'm running. Yes, I'm "running" again. You may recall that I am about to be 40 (aka full-on Golden Girl old) so I figured I should starve myself and exercise until June so I don't scare all the people lucky enough to spend some time with me in a bathing suit. You're welcome, as always.

As you know, running sucks. Unless you're being chased. And it actually still sucks then, too, because who likes being chased? Especially if you just snatched a purse. Although I'm guessing if I ever snatch a purse, I'm going to do it really sneaky-like and then just walk off, acting real smooth. Watch out, Rach, cuz you know your purses are the ones I'm coming for first. Consider yourself warned.

Now my list, in backwards order, obvi, to build the suspense:

10) I Don't Think Hank Done It This Way by: Waylon
Explanation: this is good to get you started. It's kinda slow, like my running. I'm already in a bad mood obviously, because I am exercising, so I like to think that maybe Hank was as miserable as me. Wearing those rhinestone suits has to be as bad as the workout gear I got at Sam's Club, right?

9) I'm On a Boat by: Andy Samberg
Explanation: this song makes me happy. Because there's cussing. And it reminds me of being on a boat. In the Caribbean. Where God wants me to be. Instead of running on the streets of East Dallas at a ridiculously early hour. PS - I hate my life.

8) Needle and the Spoon by: Skynyrd
Explanation: this song rocks. And it makes me think about maybe taking up heroin as a weight loss alternative. But then I heard it makes you have a sugar Jones like nobody's business. And get zits. I'm f'ing 40 so I clearly cannot deal with zits.

7) Bulls on Parade by: Rage
Explanation: if you don't already have this song on your workout playlist, stop reading now and go get it. There's a lot of screaming and rage in this song (duh, they're raging against the machine) which goes perfectly with the rage I feel at having to exercise. Rally 'round the family, with a pocket full of shells. Who knows what that means? But I like it a LOT.

6) Love and Affection by: Nelson
Explanation: Nelson f'ing rules. Dubai.

5) Break Something by: Limp Bizkit
Explanation: 'member Fred Durst? 'member how he was always so mad cuz he was bald and Christina Aguilera claimed to be Durty but she still wouldn't do it with him due to his baldness? I can really relate to that anger. Because of my fatness. Plus, I really consider saying "first one to complain, leaves with a blood stain," at every business meeting I ever go to.

4) Cigarettes Will Kill You by: Ben Lee
Explanation: if you haven't heard this, give it whirl. This dude is from Australia, and I am generally not a fan of people from Australia, although I did love Muriel's Wedding, but that was really more because of Abba. But I digress. This dude used to date Claire Danes, so he's obviously pretty cool because Claire Danes pretend-dated Jared Leto on My So-Called Life and he rules. But really I like this song because it has cigarettes in the title. I like to picture myself smoking cigarettes while I'm running. You know, picturing your happy place and all makes you run faster, right?

3) Dancing Queen by: ABBA
Explanation: ABBA is by far the best band of all-time, and Dancing Queen is by far their best song. I once went on a family vacation where all we brought was a case of vodka, 2 cartons of smokes, and the ABBA Gold CD. True Story. Best vacation every, BTW. Oh and needless to say we brought Yahtzee. Yahtzee is to games as ABBA is to music. That's an analogy. Like on the SAT. Sorry I just made you learn.

2) Crazy in Love by: Mr. and Mrs. Jay-Z
Explanation: when this song plays while I run I pretend all my flab jiggling is actually an on purpose shimmy like Beyonce. My flabs got my lookin' so crazy right now.

1) 99 Problems by: Jay-Z
Explanation: As if it's needed! I got 99 problems and running is #1. Seriously though, I like to think about all my problems while I am running and listening to this. I'm from the 'hood, stupid, what kinda facts are those? Seriously, I can run until I get to like my 3rd problem (old, flabby, possibly mentally ill) then I have to take a breather. Yes, I suck.

Hope this inspiring post inspires all of you to "hit the streets" as my Dad likes to say. Bastard.

They Try to Make Me Go to Rehab, and I Said YES YES YES (please).

Okay, so anyone who knows me at all (and all 6 readers of this sweet blog do), knows that I have two main aspirations in life: 1) to go to rehab and 2) to be in a mental institution. These are actually interchangeable, as I think if I got to do one, I wouldn't need to do the other, but I reserve the right to change that sentiment afterwards, depending on the sheer awesomeness of the experience. Here's my brillz logic: rehab/time in a mental institution is like an f'ing paid vacation. Seriously, and law dawgs out there correct me if I'm wrong, but I think they can't even fire you for going to either because you are "sick" and need "help." Now, I'm not mocking the people who are actually crazy (you may recall my mother) or alcoholics/drug addicts (lucky!), I'm just thinking I could use a day or two (or month) off right about now. Now, do not put me in some kind of tough love joint either - I am not going to rehab to learn how to scrub toilets, thank you very much, and I certainly don't cotton to hiking or other "relaxing" activities like yoga either (please). My rehab needs to be something like this: lay around all day, smoking cigarettes and watching my stories, kind of like the mental institution that Winona Ryder went to in Girl, Interrupted. F'ing lucky a$$ girl, interrupted if you ask me. I wouldn't even mind being surrounded by crazies who taunted me for my beauty or sanity or other nonsense. You may recall I went to a full-on ghetto high school, so a few anorexic crazy girls don't scare me none, and guns aren't allowed in rehab, so problem solved. I would even be more than happy to go to "group" and talk about my feelings. Seriously, have I had a feeling that I DIDN'T share? Clearly not an issue. And remember that rehab movie with Sandra Bullock where they did a hilarious play to celebrate one chick getting released from rehab? Doing plays for no reason is obviously awesome and not something you can do when you are at work all day. Now I know you naysayers are out there naysaying something like, "there is no perfect rehab that you speak of, and aren't you actually describing a spa?" To that I retort, "duh, you can't take sick days to go to a spa, hello?" I might even become a confidante to one Miss Lindsay Lohan and I would advise her to live the rest of her life on the full-on opposite tip, as in do the OPPOSITE of whatever you think you should do, because your ideas obviously suck. She'd probably win an Oscar.

You're welcome, Lindsay Lohan. See you at Promises!!

Words With Friends: avoid booze and drugs if you plan on winning that sh*t.

Okay so as most everyone who knows me knows, I have an old-ass sh*tty free phone that don't have no internets on it. Unfortch, this is actually an "upgrade" phone that my Dad let me spend a whole 20 dollars on the last time AT&T said I could upgrade. Seriously though, it was a huge improvement from what Diggs so lovingly LOVES to refer to as my "Zak Morris-style brick phone." Note I spelled Zach with just a "k" - keepin' it classy is my middle name. So back to the phone, one day recently, I woke up and all the bitches I know have rich Iphones (this means all you bitches on this blog with me). Apparently, on the Iphone, or maybe also on rich Blackberries or even Androids for all I know, you can play a Facebook game called, "Words With Friends." This is just like Scrabble, but you use your radical-ass Iphone with its magic keys and whatnot, then your friend shoots a word back at you. So, being a hardcore brillz wordsmith like I am, I assumed I would rock that sh*t up and down the coast when I borrowed a friend's Iphone and started playing. Of course, it took a full hour of Iphone tutoring to even begin to handle that thing, but afterwards I was ready to play. This game is BULLSH*T. Seriously. It's all about "strategy" and not, apparently, about making awesome (read: dirty/hilarious) words. And, to add insult to injury (I have no idea what that actually means, but have always wanted to say it), it automatically looks up every word and won't let you play a word that doesn't exist (just try "sugarsexy" and you'll know I'm right). The crazy thing about the look-up function is that it says that words like "aa" are actual words. Really? On f'ing Mars? Needless to say, I possibly got the lowest ever score in the history of the game, and I assume all the little-ass kids I see with rich phones are playing it, so that's extra bad.

Moral of the story: I hate you people with your rich Iphones and game strategies, and you can take your Words With Friends and shove it.

Now, I'll busy myself by scrolling through the contacts on my phone so it looks like I have internets.

Silver lining: my Dad says I might be able to get a phone with internets if I switch to pay-as-you-go. Seriously. Boost Mobile in the HOUSE! I saw some pretty sweet phones at 7-11, so I am pumped!

I don't think you're ready for this jelly...

So, when I had already avoided work long enough with facebook and blogstalking, I decided it was time to write up another hilarious blog post, but I couldn't decide what to write about. Then, SHAZAAM! It hit me! What do I love moaning and groaning about more than my Dad's love of spreadsheets and hunger? The awesome hideousness that is my body. And so, since I'm into lists all Letterman-style, my top 3 list of sh*t I hate about my body was born.


1) Ass Bangs – if you are Asian, feel free to skip ahead to the next item on the list, as your people were born with glorious thick hair on your heads, and no hair anywhere else. PS – I hate you damn hairless Asians! I, however, come from some white trash sharecropper stock straight outta Mississippi, and being of this questionable ethnic pedigree, I am hairy like a straight-up monkey. Now, twenty years ago, this item would not have existed, as ladies were allowed to just let nature run its own show downstairs and dudes just had to deal. But nowadays, since we have to take care of our ladybusiness all Swank magazine-style (read: nearly/completely bare down there) ass bangs were born. Not sure what an ass bang is? Fade in: you just shaved/waxed your business but accidentally maybe on purpose due to it being a harrowing task didn’t put your big ole bootie up to look at it in a mirror to determine that yes indeedy there is hair back there. Guess what? You’ve got ass bangs. Could explain why that super cute dude you did it with all carefree and Carrie Bradshaw-style didn't call the next day, or ever. This could be a bonafide PSA for those of you who have remained blissfully unaware of all that goes on back there, but I assure you if you haven’t taken care of that business, you got yourself some ass bangs. You’re welcome.

2) Stache/lady beard – self-explanatory. And for those of you who are not Asian but are sitting there thinking innocently, “I don’t have a stache,” think again. After doing God only knows how many people’s makeup over the years (you may recall my God-given skillz), I can testify that almost EVERYONE has some amount of stache that needs to be taken care of with waxing, laser, electrolysis, etc. If you still don’t believe me, look closer. And closer still. Boom! Told ya you had a stache!

3) Cankles – as I have expressed before, I come by these babies honest. My crazy mom has cankles. My beloved sociopathic grandmother (RIP) had cankles. And I’m pretty sure my share-croppin’ great grandmother had her some sweet share-croppin’ cankles. All you can do is try to minimize the appearance of these using techniques akin to those I use in my special ass camo. See my previous post if you don’t remember. I would provide a link, but that would just encourage you to be lazy. Other options for subterfuge include, but are not limited to: giant wedge heels (so high that maybe if you are running across the street drunk off jello shots pushing a stroller you may fall down and break your toe in such a hideous fashion that the memory of said toe “haunts my dreams,” according to one former child model who shall remain nameless); wide leg pants, so wide in fact that you could be accused of wearing palazzo pants; and ridiculously bright, dark, or glittery toenail polish (the theory here is that if the passerby is mesmerized by your toenails, he’ll hardly have time to look at your cankles); and last but certainly not least; long-ass prairie skirts that make me look like a Pentecostal or possibly a Mennonite (but a Pentecostal/Mennonite with small, delicate (read: completely hidden) ankles).

Popozao!

Holla if you're 'bout ready for this sh*t to go VIRAL!!

So I have nothing of interest to say whatsoever, except the following:

1) Seriously, this blog needs to go viral (whatever the hell that means) so that I can make bank and quit working. Like forever. Oh, who am I kidding my Dad would make me work even if I won the Powerball. Regardless, let's take this sweet blog to the streets, because I wanna be a billionaire so frickin' bad.

2) I would like the record to reflect that I originally wrote a full-on bad word in the title of this post, then, remembering my classiness, put a classy-ass asterisk in instead of an "i". Two points in the classy collumn for Jill.

Peace out!

How to be Classy

How to be Classy

from the article found - http://www.wikihow.com/Be-Classy

Being classy is not about being stuck up, it is about having style and taking care to be polite to others and to reflect a genuine interest in them. It is also about being confident in yourself. This article will teach you how to move through life with class and ease.

When you are done reading this article, you should know how to be classy, or: selfless, generous, compassionate and responsible.

 edit

Steps

.                1
Treat others the way you would want to be treated. The Golden Rule truly is a time honored guide for treating others with class. Giving others advance notice before cancelling dinner invitations, speaking up for those who cannot stand up for themselves, calling your parents to update them on yourself, checking in with friends; these are all simple gestures that demonstrate your class and authenticity. Ensure you choose friends who share your values.

HFGBC definitely honors step 1 as we have many, many email threads that show we are constantly checking in with each other.  Now if they are of relevance to anything important is clearly our business but everything is always discussed in a classy manner.

.                2
Choose your battles, choose your friends. Few battles are truly worth fighting. Stand up for those who cannot stand up for themselves (the elderly, children, mentally disabled, etc.) Be wary of those who appear to enjoy bickering. If someone is rude to you, either ignore him or her completely or, once you have completely calmed down and are thinking clearly, explain how you perceived his or her actions and work towards a resolution. You can also treat them with polite disdain--be polite but let them subtly know that you don't appreciate what they are doing. Never stoop to their level, and do not be hasty. Surround yourself with positive, polite people who encourage and live your classy, intelligent lifestyle.

Thank god we encourage each other to live classy, intelligent lifestyles.

.                3
Choose your words. The classy individual listens more than he or she speaks. Having a strong vocabulary is important, but do not use a word unless you are certain of its meaning. Use words to express yourself clearly. Importantly, do not correct others when they use improper grammar. Differences in background, family life, and education cause people to speak differently, and people often use slang for effect. More than this, it is irritating and degrading to be corrected by a know-it-all.

What is slang?  We would never use such language.

.                4
Do not insult, gossip, or slander. When necessary, voice your opinions appropriately and constructively. This encourages your audience to listen carefully when you speak.

One of our best traits, don’t you think?

.                5
Be independent. You must be courteous, but do not bend over backwards to please others. If you do, you may find yourself being taken advantage of in the future. Limit your time and availability and draw boundaries with others so that they are aware of your limits.

We aim to please the members of our group exclusively.

.                6
Break the stereotype shackles. More often than not, using labels in any way, whether to identify yourself or others shows a lack of creativity, lethargic social skills, and a lack of careful observation. Give everyone respect and the benefit of doubt.

We are anything but lethargic when it comes to social skills.

.                7
Be assertive. Avoid passive-aggressive thinking; this is likely to trip you up eventually. Assertiveness demonstrates maturity, thoughtfulness, and confidence. Class requires balance, and assertiveness is a prime example of this concept.

What do you get when you put eight classy,  thoughtful and confident ladies together – HFGBC!

.                8
Define yourself with a clean and elegant look. Excellent presentation is half of the battle. Wear clothing and accessories, which flatter your body and never wear anything you feel uncomfortable in. It is important to remember that modesty is key in earning the respect of others. A bit of cleavage may be fashionable, but true gentlemen will appreciate modesty more than exposure.

Did you hear cleavage?

.                9
Avoid getting caught up in trends. There is nothing wrong with enjoying fashion or buying clothing you find attractive, but it is important to stay in control.

         Do not become a slave to fashion, or you may be regarded as foolish, "high maintenance", and/or shallow. The clothing you wear should enhance your personality, not create or alter it. This advice can be applied to many aspects of life in which you may feel pressured to "fit in."

It says it right here so I must go shopping to stay classy!

Are we on track ladies?