Clare's blog: "Say My Name, Bitch"

It's finals. I'm far too fucked to recall the bitching party (And by bitching I mean it ended at 6:10 AM). So until I'm not swamped with shit to do, here's another reason that my friends and I are bad people. pinklady2383: I stole Veleveta shells and cheese from the hungry. pinklady2383: I'm so going to hell. TweekerChickQC: We are in college and broke. TweekerChickQC: Technically we are the hungry. pinklady2383: Jimmy yelled at me. I was like I SPENT ALL MY MONEY ON BOOZE YOU DRANK! pinklady2383: He's like.... carry on... TweekerchickQC: Gotta love his sense of responsibility. pinklady2383: He tries to be a good little catholic republican TweekerChickQC: While allowing his boss to steal from the hungry. pinklady2383: Like I said, he's a republican. TweekerChickQC: So if you want to be techincal about it, he's doing a great job.

AIM again. I should marry this guy. I couldn't have said this better myself. NapalmMage: Hairy Potter and the chamber of secrets....a fucking 3 hour long kids movie? That's cruel. TweekerChickQC: i hate harry potter. NapalmMage: But I look forward to the kid that plays him growing up to be a severely fucked up individual.

As much as working with children is a gigantic pain in my ass, every now and again it has its perks. The other day, I rolled into work, in ripped jeans, old sneakers and a hoodie. The first thing any guy I knew said was "What the FUCK happened to you?" But no, not those kids. I was sitting there in all my nastiness and Brian comes up to me, simply to tell me, and I quote "Damn Clare, your hella fine!" Now, I can handle a 13 year old thinking I'm hot. I'm mature, I'm good at my job, all that shit. I sat across from him at dinner. About halfway through the meal, I felt something move at the inside of my left ankle. Being taller than all the kids, I pulled my foot back. Then it happened on the right one. I pulled that back too. About halfway up my calf, I realized that a 13 year old was trying to play footsie with me. So I did what any normal self respecting staff would've done. I waited till he got to my knee and stabbed him in the toe with a fork. Which sparked this conversation (And I am not making this up) Brian: What, you don't like it when a 13 year old plays footsie with you? Me: NO! Brian: It's not THAT much of an age difference. Will you go out with me? Me: No! Brian: Why not? Me: I am WAY too old for you, and I'll lose my job. Brian: They'll never know. Me: Yes they will. The answer is no. Brian: Your still hella fine. It's part of the fun of working with children. Not only are they great for your ego, they seriously think that being "hella fine" should pay your bills. If I was this popular with 13 year old boys when I was 13, I wouldn't be nearly this bitter.

I love my male friends. They really know what matters in life. TweekerChickQC: I've missed you lately hon! TweekerChickQC: I thought you left me with someone with a small head or social retardation or something. NapalmMage: LOL Nah, things have just been heavy lately. NapalmMage: There is one plus to having a chick with a small head TweekerChickQC: What's that? NapalmMage: My dick looked friggin HUGE in her mouth.

Growing up is hard. Realizing that your growing OLDER is even harder. Yes, I am aware that I'm 24 and far away from the age of Geritol and Depends, but regardless, I'm almost 25. Which is ancient to the part of me that wanted to stay 18 forever. It all started the other night at Walmart. Shawn and I used to spend countless hours in the toy isle, causing trouble, running around, and playing until our little hearts were content. Now, we last about 20 minutes around the entire store before we want to go home and sleep. Employment seems to do that to a person. Because my parents are visiting in about a half an hour, I was speed cleaning and I found an old sales receipt from Walmart, and the one from yesterday. Here's how they stack up: Old receipt: 3 Magazines 1 Hair Dye in an Unnatural color 1 Spiderman action figure 1 Bag Cooler Ranch Doritos 2 Gallons of Orange Juice (for drinking and tripping purposes) 1 Bottle advil 2 Packs of Gum 1 Package of Twizzlers 4 Packages of Zours 1 Box of Condoms 8 Cans of whipped cream (Hooray for whippits!) 2 Packs of Marlboro Reds If I remember right, that night was a hell of a lot of fun. We were wandering around the isles when I stopped and looked down. After staring at me a moment, Shawn looked down, breathed in and said "Holy shit Clare, we are getting old". Our cart contained: 2 Bottles of Old Spice body wash (buy one get one free) 1 Package Lightbulbs 1 Tube of Toothpaste 1 Bar of Lindt Excellence Dark Chocolate (which I would've hated as a kid) 1 Package of Charmin 1 Bottle Wiper Fluid 2 Bottles of Windex 3 Lean Cuisine Pizzas 2 Cases of Diet Coke 1 Can Bug Spray 3 Cookie Sheets I don't know when this happened, but can I please go back to the time in my life where trips to walmart consisted of me buying worthless Toys, games and CDs? I want to be 18 forever, is that so much to ask?

The holiday season is well underway, and we all know what that means. You can no longer shield your significant other from the craziness that is your family (or vice versa, depending on your taste in partners). No matter what precautions you take, it will inevitably be a disaster. But there are some things that can be done to minimize the carnage and maybe even keep your girlfriend from leaving your stupid ass for someone with a less crazy family. Thus, my holiday gift to you is this. 1. Remember. You want these people to like you. You want them to like you a whole, whole lot. Her family has been around a lot longer than you have. Their opinion carries a lot of weight. Bring some Chap Stick; you're going to need it with all the ass you're going to be kissing. 2. Leave your relationship problems at the door. You are with someone's little girl. When you pull into the driveway, pretend that your relationship is hunky dory. Even if it's a dirty, filthy lie. You are outnumbered. She is your princess, regardless of whether or not you two are having issues. She can go back to being a cockslut in the car on the way home. 3. Try not to stay at her parents' home. This prevents the awkward sleeping situation. Get a hotel room, preferably in a different town. It's a small world. If you are playing hide the salami and she's squealing like a stuck pig, you will run into someone, somewhere who knows her parents. And will tell them. And you will die. If you can't manage to weasel out of staying with her family, do not, I repeat, do NOT even THINK of having sex with her in that house. Anywhere. Ever. Even if you think everyone's asleep, and the bathroom door is locked, the person you least want to see at that moment will catch you. It will most likely be her father. And he will most likely own a fire arm and have government officials that owe him a favor. 4. Avoid political conversations at all costs. Now is not the time to announce to the family that you think the entire government is full of shit and you think it needs to be entirely overhauled so we can all live in a hippy commune and smoke pot until we are all sterile. If her family brings up politics, sit quietly and try to keep your yap shut. If you feel the need to contribute, wait until you hear the tone of the conversation, and keep your opinions to a minimum. If Pops drags you into some political conversation, give a non committal answer and move on. 5. You are your own person. You're artsy and a free spirit. Good for you. Now shave, shower, and get a god damn haircut. Do not show up looking like you belong in a rock band. Even if you are in a rock band. It wouldn't kill you to cover up the tattoo that says "I fucked your Mom" and take out the lip ring. I know. They should like you for who you are. But they won't. 6. If you are going to break up with your significant other, hold off until the holiday season is over. Or you will forever be known as The-Asshole-Who-Broke-Her-Heart-On-(Insert name of holiday here). That is not a title you want. This is especially true if one or more of her parents were ever in the Armed Forces. She may forgive you and love you just as much as ever. But her family may or may not try to poision you. 7. Make sure your partner warns you of any quirks her family has. For example. My grandmother cooks a mean hamloaf. It is disgusting. It is revolting. But it is part of our holiday tradition. If she has to suffer, so do you. Now is not the time to make little comments about things that won't change. 8. Have an answer for the uncomfortable relationship questions arranged with your partner. So when Grandma asks you what your plans for the future are, you have a better answer than "I'm going to slap her ass, fuck her hard, have her get me a beer and then take a nap". 9. She may have a hot cousin, sister or mom. You are allowed one comment and that is all. Only one. Something along the lines of "So and So didn't tell me she had a younger sister!" while talking to mom. I don't care if she's a M.I.L.F. Your girlfriend also has a F.W.L.T.K.U. (Father Who'd Love To Kill You). 10. Refrain from getting totally inebriated. If the booze is flowing, have a drink. If they are passing the bong (Don't laugh. I know someone whose family really does this) take a courtesy hit if you are so inclined. Do not under any circumstances have more than two. You will get drunk. You will get high. You will make an ass of yourself. And you will be jerking off alone until you talk some other girl into dating you. See? None of it is all that difficult. It also helps a lot if your girlfriend can give you a rundown of the day's events so you know when things are happening and where you are supposed to be. This can be helpful in deciding a good time to leave if you want to bow out early. If you know Uncle Bob gets drunk by 4:30 and starts playing grab ass, perhaps a good time to get the fuck out of Dodge is somewhere around 4:15. One last piece of advice. She owes you for putting up with her crazy family. She puts up with yours. But try to be a few miles out of town before asking for road head. Just in case Dad has more friends than you thought.

A few years ago, I did a post titled "Defining the douchebag." It was great and relevent, when I was in college. However, I am no longer in college, I am now an adult in the corporate world. Which is full to the brim with all sorts of douchebags. So I bring you, Defining The Douchebag: The Corporate World Edition. There are so many categories of the douchebags you will run into in the corporate setting that I definately don't have time to define them all for you here. So this will most likely be a first of a few installments. If this offends you, it's probably because I'm describing you and exactly why your coworkers hate you. 1. This Isn't College Anymore? This specific douchebag drives me fucking crazy. They have a tendency to stumble into work every day in wrinkled, dirty clothes, reeking like rum and pot. That's fine, I've committed that particular sin more times than I'd care to admit. But the major difference here, is while I'm still too drunk to function I sit quietly at my desk. You choose to talk, often times loudly, to very important people. These people don't give a flying shit that you did body shots off a stripper's tits. No matter how cool your boss is, there's a time and place for that shit. Also on that note, check your hormones at the door. Theres nothing creepier than hearing you discuss the hot chicks you're trying to get with, the amount of vicodin you took with your stash of Coors Light, or whatever other stupid thing you did. This is not a fraternity house, we will not give you a special shirt for this anymore. 2. How the hell did you get hired? This person is usually very very nice. And very fucking dumb. How they've managed to retain employment through this point in their life is baffling to everyone they associate with. These people are most likely kept on staff due to their ability to keep everyone else busy with important questions, such as "How the HELL did you graduate college?", and "Has it ever occured to you that Darwin was wrong?". 3. The pretentious moron. Every office has one of these. They are easy to spot by the way they wander aimlessly with a sense of self importance that rivals that of the CEO. They have their nose in everyone else's buissness, simply because they have no idea what the hell they are doing. This is the person who will ask you the same question. Over. And Over. And Over again. And then they will ask someone else. They will argue trivial points with you, simply because they can. They have time to do this because they have no idea what the hell they are doing otherwise. 4. The snitch. There's always one. The corporate world is more cutthroat than most professional sports. This is the person who will download porn with you on your work computer, and then turn you into HR. The easiest way to identify them is to wander into their cubicle someday. They will close out the window they were working in. Why? Because they were sending someone an email. About you. 5. The Life Isnt Fair Kid. This kid was a load better off swallowed. They tend to be young. Very young. They argue company policy like it's their job, simply because it's "not fair." Fuck the dress code! Why should I have to tuck my shirt in? Fuck the dress code! That's unfair! Why did I lose this account? Because I didn't sell it? So what? That's not fair! The best part about these guys is when they start realizing that they might actually have to do things such as work. They will constantly whine that it's so much easier for other employees. Management obviously favors them. It has nothing to do with the fact that they've worked here for 5 years. Nope. The world is conspiring against them. For some serious office fun, do what you can to make this person's life harder. Tell them that you saw the account first, even if you haven't. More later. I'm off to pretend to work.

The one thing about college that drives me nuts is that although there are all sorts of new people, most of them are douchebags. So I present to you, the defining characteristics and ways of identifying these asshats. I. Future sorority girls. These are the most easily identifiable by their use of words such as "like" and "ohmigod". They are normally found leaning against the wall outside of the popular dormitories. Not because this is cool, simply because they are normally too drunk to figure out the intricate workings of the door. Their distinguishing characteristics include abnormally tall shoes, heavy foundation and the chronic inability to dress appropriately for the weather. You can often find these girls crying in the bathroom mumbling phrases such as "he promised he'd call" and "he said he loved me". II. Future fraternity boys. These are the perfect compliment to the girls above. They are normally very good looking, with perfectly styled hair. They wear Abercrombie shirts, with cut off khaki shorts, and flip flops even in 3 feet of snow and sub zero temperatures. They contribute very little to conversations, but can make a hell of a beer bong. They spend a lot of time with their friends, comparing notes about the future sorority girls. III. Future hate crime victims. Every college campus has these, however, being a liberal arts campus, we seem to have the monopoly. These people are often openly gay or bisexual, and feel the need to share it with the world. They walk around with shaved heads, rainbow clothing, cut off army pants and Doc Martens. Their faces are constantly pierced, and most of them drive cutesy SUVs with vanity plates that state things like "ieatit2" which are barely visible beyond the many rainbow stickers. If you hate them, it's not because they are douche bags. It's because they are gay. If they get a speeding ticket, it's not because they were going thirty miles over the speed limit in a school zone and ran over a small child, it's because they are bisexual. Their sexuality is a badge for the entire world to behold. IV. Hippies. You can't miss them. They spend most of their time in the quad, laying on their backs, polluting the air with the sounds of New Age music and phrases like "Man". The males are easily identifiable because most tend to look like Jesus in a tye-dye shirt and ripped jeans. The hemp necklaces are a dead give away. V. Women's Studies Majors/Feminists. These people scare the crap out of me. If not for the lack of personal hygiene (yes, shaving can be considered personal hygiene) or the lack of necessary undergarments (Bras. Please) the lack of any common sense seems to do them in. Everyone is sexist. I'm sexist because I'd rather hang out with males than females. You're sexist because I know you're only reading this because it's written by a somewhat good looking female. Society sucks because women wear bras and makeup, and men get to run around like Neanderthal slobs. At least, that's what they think. Not only do women deserve rights, they deserve more rights than most men. Men are Neanderthal pigs that are inherently rapists and only good for fixing my car. These are the females who oppose words like "Mankind" or "Postman" for "Humankind" and "Postwoman". They also like to conjugate in large groups and scream like wild banshees about "Taking back the night" with their sisters. VI. Stoners. Gotta love the stoners, because the stoners love you. Technically, they love everyone. These are the ones that sit next to you in philosophy in a tyedye shirt with a bucket hat pulled down over their eyes. Sunglasses are a necessity, even at midnight. These are the people who truly understand the wonders of green koolaid, how cool philosophy is, and why Bob Marley really is god. They are not to be confused with Hippies. Hippies don't like the man, Stoners could give a shit about the man unless he's bogarting the blunt. These are the guys to chill with, as they are normally the funniest people alive. VII. Sluts. Every campus has one of these. I will spare the noticeable characteristics of these creatures, and instead give you a story (with fuzzy details, seeing as this was years ago). It was the first night on campus and I was lucky enough to go home with a certain good looking Frat Guy who lived off campus. After laying in his bed and talking about random shit, we decided it was time to pass out. He handed me a pair of boxers to chill in and a t-shirt. Little did I know that the girl who went through the fraternity in almost its entirety had used those shorts. I spent the rest of the night convinced that I was going to catch ghonnasyphaherpelypse from the goddamn boxer shorts he lent me. This is why we don't like sluts.

An open letter to the lady in line in front of me at Walgreens, I saw you pull up in your brand new Lexus (the temporary plates were a dead give away). I was the girl who pulled in beside you that you ignored. Fine. We wound up in line together. Don't think I didn't notice the Manolo Blahniks shoes, the Versace coat and the Loius Vuitton purse (from the pastel collection, even). I was the one with the same pair of Armani glasses on. I was also the one who watched you put down 2 Red Bull energy drinks, and bitch out the cashier because they were supposedly 70 cents off. They weren't. Yup. That's me. I was the cute little college chick in the middle of finals, who just ran out of caffeine and refined sugar. I was the one with the blue jelly bracelets up my arm, and the pissed off look on her face. I was the one who watched you bitch at a cashier over $1.40 when your purse costs more than I make in a month. I was also the one who slammed that $1.40 down on the counter and told you to shut the fuck up. Yup. That was me. Here's my suggestion. You need a hobby. Apparently, you don't have enough things to do with your twelve billion dollars than torment the poor cashier at Walgreens. It was A DOLLAR FORTY. I make $6.11 an hour and even I realize, this is not a big deal. I need you to find something more creative to do with your money. If you can't, I need you to give it to me. Because honestly, you kinda make me want to vomit. Please keep your Chanel No.5 wearing, Louis Vuitton purse carrying, bleach blonde, nipped, tucked, and botox injected self the fuck out of my way. Because like everyone else in that line today, I hate you. Thanks for your cooperation, The Tweeker Chick.

Today pretty much blew goats. I'll spare you all the stories of the negative numbers in my bank account, or the fact that one of my best friends can lean on me whenever she needs something but if I'm not in top form she acts like a huge raging bitch (she's had a bad few days too..She's sick..But not too sick to ditch me to get laid). Instead, I'll give you the icing on the cake. I got a speeding ticket. I may have been going a little fast. Fine. After getting shit from the cop as to why the car doesn't trace back to my name (it traces back to my dad's, we have the same last name and look exactly the same) this woman starts grilling me about why my car has plates from Minnesota. I almost told her that it was because that's where I stole it from. Tell them what they want to hear, that's my philosophy. She then writes me a ticket for the speeding, the taillight that some asshole broke with a beer bottle, and get this. Not wearing my glasses while driving. Anyone who has known me for more than say, thirty seconds, knows that I am blind without some sort of corrective lens. I don't mean "Can't read the bottom line on the eye chart" blind. I mean, last time I was at the eye doctor, I couldn't even find the chart. I'm not exaggerating. So I told a woman with a gun, and a bright light in my eye that without my glasses on I wouldn't be able to even find the car to get in it. She then asks me what I'm doing driving. "I wear contacts." She stared at me for a good fifteen seconds and said "Oh. I didn't even think of that! Contacts!" Are you fucking kidding me? And this woman has a gun. She then followed me about 6 blocks up, and then passed me. On the shoulder. Without a signal. Speeding. Bitch.