I love my job

I compile all of the "embarrassing moment" submissions here at the magazine. Here is one I got today, typed verbatim:





My most humilating moment was when I pead my pants at Sams Club. Here is how it started I was with my friend and she made me laugh real hard so I pead my pants and everyone looked at me weird my friend was mean she started to laugh really hard to. Now I am not her friend because of what she did

Joanna, Idaho

PS-Can you check my spelling?

You Know You're in Hollywood When...

You need a special coin to gain access to the bathroom facilities at Taco Bell.

Why Gated Parking is a Must

I was lamenting about how awful it is to find parking on my street, when my neighbor informed me that he is now banned from the lot around the corner from our apartment. Let’s just say that after finding out the reason for his banning, I don’t feel so bad for myself. Here is his story, as told to me last night:

I wanted to go get my haircut today so I went over to where I park my car on Las Palmas. I arrived at the lot and immediately observed that the belongings strewn across the concrete were in fact MY belongings that had been sitting on the passenger’s seat when I parked my car the night before. As I got closer, I also realized that my passenger seat was in the fully reclined position. The trifecta, however, came when I opened the car door. Judging from the vile stench that greeted me, it became clear that a homeless person had spent the night in my car. I was none too pleased, so I walked over to the parking attendant to explain to him why I was upset. He mumbled something in broken English and then proceeded to call his manager. When the manager, a portly Armenian gentleman, arrived on the scene, I explained to him what had happened. I didn't want a refund, I didn't want to make a big deal about it; I just wanted to make him aware of the situation. The situation being that his crew of non-English speaking employees can't figure out that a car has been broken into when all of my belongings are scattered on the ground in broad daylight. But then he mumbled something and walked away. I inquired as to why he was walking away and he proceeded to mumble something about me being a "WOP”. I politely threatened to "kill him". Of course, anybody that knows me knows that when I want to "kill someone" I’m actually referring to "killing them with kindness." Anyway, I am now banned from the parking lot on Las Palmas and if I park there ever again my car will be impounded. It's a good thing I'm working days this week or else we would have ourselves a serious situation.

CLAY SHAKES MY OVARIES A THOUSAND DIFFERENT WAYS

So I’m delighted to inform you that Project Clay was a
success! The ravishing Mr. Aiken was gracious enough
to stop and say hi as he was leaving Larry King Live
last night. I kinda feel bad for the dude. Like does
it really matter if he’s gay or not? I mean the poor
guy is being forced to cover songs by Celine Dion.And
have you ever seen a Claymate? In person? I saw
several last night. And everyone needs to give the kid
a break. I mean, really.

Now, let’s get to the second part of the night. My
friend Joe and I are going to hell. I mean, I’m
probably the worst person ever. See, the picture of
one of the “Claymates” below - the lady who’s wearing
the clever “Clay Shakes My Ovaries A Thousand
Different Ways” shirt - bears a striking resemblance
to this woman who works at a decrepit pizza parlour on
Hollywood Boulevard. And although the Claymate was not
facing the camera, the likeness was uncanny and just
had to be her. So I showed Joe the picture and he
agreed. We discussed the similarities between the
Claymate and the pizza parlour employee and I thought
we needed another opinion. Instead, he had the
brilliant idea that we do our own investigative work
and figure this conundrum out ourselves. So on we went
to Vista Pizza (side note: don’t eat there, ever) and
had the awkward “Um, no food for us, we’re just
getting drinks tonight” interchange. And as she went
to retrieve our Gatorades, I pulled a, “You have to
ask her, I can’t do it.” And the dialogue that ensued
went something like this:

Joe: Uh, okay, we have a question.

Coll: Yeah, sorry we’re weird.

Joe: Okay,well were you at the Clay Aiken concert
yesterday?

Alleged Claymate is somewhat puzzled,but appears
delighted that customers are engaging in conversation
with her.

Coll: Yeah, we saw this picture and it really looks
like you.

Alleged Claymate [who also has a severe underbite and
sounds like a transgendered person undergoing hormone
therapy(I know, I’m going to hell)]: No, I wasn’t at
Clay Aiken.

Joe: (awkwardly) Oh well you must have a twin.

Coll: Sorry,we ask weird questions.

Alleged Claymate: You can ask me anything.

Coll: Okay, thanks, bye!

Joe: Yeah, see ya later.

Upon returning to Joe’s apartment,we examined the
picture again. We concluded that the Vista Pizza lady
and the Claymate must be twins. We must reunite them.
And call Montell Williams and be on the show and get a
free trip to New York! We also realized that the
Claymate is holding a sign that matches her shirt. Brilliant.

Claywatch '06

No dice. We missed him because he arrived early due to a scheduled pre-Larry interview with Nancy Grace. Apparently, he's had a crush on her since Mr. Roswell's class and now that he knows that you like him, he doesn't want to pretend with me anymore. My life was perfect and you ruined it! Oh!

PROJECT CLAY

Clay Aiken is doing Larry King Live tonight.

I work in the CNN building.

Coincidence? I think not.

Welynne and I have decided to be Claymates for the day and stalk him in the lobby.

DEVELOPING...

PS-I think the lady in this picture delivers pizzas down the street from me.

I love my neighborhood

Naked man runs through Starbucks, eats pastries, gets shot by rubber bullets

posted by David Markland at 6:10 PM on September 25, 2006

Ever the curious blogger, I asked the staff at the Whitley Heights Starbucks why one of their doors had been boarded up. Their eyes lit up, eager to share the tale.

Here's what I put together:

At 5am this morning, a "drunken naked guy" used a sock full of rocks to shatter the glass on the front door, and stormed inside to eat "all the pastries". Police responded and found the guy running around the store, resisting arrest. He had feathers in his hair and an American flag... although it wasn't explained to me if this was a large or small flag, or where it was placed (or, perhaps, raised). The cops had to use rubber bullets and a beanbag shotgun to subdue him.
After relaying this tale, a Barista chimed in, "In spite of what happened, they still let me come to work today." Oh, those Baristas can be so witty. All expressed disappointment that they haven't been allowed to see the whole thing as captured on surveillance cameras.

I'm offically an idiot.

I can't tell you how many times I've tried to log into blogger over the past several months. I even had my password sent to my yahoo account over and over, but it was to no avail. Then today, I realized that my "log-in" name is not the same as the "blog name". And I'm retarded. So my blog is back and it's better than ever. Hey la, Hey la, my blog is back.

I will update it a lot more, especially cause I have lots of random thoughts. For instance, I've been constantly forgetting what month it is, and yesterday I realized it's not because I'm crazy, but probably more because the weather never changes here. Naw, I'm probably just crazy.

My tuxedo t-shirt came in the mail last week. Hoorah! When I ordered it, everyone was like, "I've never met someone with a tuxedo shirt." But it turns out that Lindsay has one! So we decided we are going to wear it out together one night and be silly. I love adventures.