DGF is On Its Way

Dear all of you fine people,

I know you're probably sitting there waiting for DGF to be posted so you can black out at work for the rest of the day and jumpstart your weekend. I'm here to tell you not to worry, as it is on its way. Meg's internet is currently going through a rebellious phase, painting its nails black, chopping off all its hair, spending lots of time in its room, and telling Meg that it wishes it had never been born. She has a post ready and waiting, but until her interweb stops being a trick, we've all just got to be patient.

Please check back with us in an hour or so and hopefully Meg will have beaten her internet service provider into submission.

Sincerely yours,

Chris

More vital thoughts I can't share with the world:

@MisterLizLemon why aren't you on gchat? you whackin' it into a test tube, looking at it under a microscope and calling it "science" again?

WTF TWITTER!

Um. Not to sound like a giant cyber nerd, but Twitter and Facebook are down. How am I supposed to tell the world that a hot architect just walked in as I was cramming a ham sandwich into my mouth?!

Oh god...I feel so terribly alone...

Some housekeeping & Thoughts I Couldn't Flesh Out Into Full Entries

First and foremost, I just want to thank you guys for the surge in votes and support after Monday's "unpleasantness." That whole episode taught me two important things: 1.) It's not just me; Suzy's a total fuckin' asshole and 2.) I fear the 2b1b reader's wrath. For it is a mighty, mighty wrath. Seriously. When you guys get pissed off, you get shit done. You put out fires. And I like it. But I also fear it. Soooo I'm just going to keep doing what I've been doing and pray to the sweet Lord almighty that I don't fuck up and piss you off. It's kind of like a horribly abusive relationship that could be made into a Lifetime movie. I'd like to think I'd be played by Tracey Gold and you'd be played by Andrew Shue. Mmkay, well I'll be in the kitchen making your dinner where I belong. Love you baby.

- Next item of housekeeping: I got the following email from 2b1b reader, Chad, Tuesday morning:

Subject: Question about the Criagslist Coffee Challenge
Hello Ms. McBlogger…

I have a quick question about your posting on Craigslist requesting a philanthropic soul to bring you coffee. I was discussing this post with a friend of mine this evening, and she pointed something out that I hadn’t noticed before. (Obviously she’s much better with fine details than I am.) Why does the timestamp on your CL post say 5:16 p.m. if you needed your coffee between 12 and 4 p.m.?

My friend says that the story is a fabrication, just to have a cute story on the blog. While that explanation is conceivable and plausible given “the best answer is often the simplest”, I am offering the benefit of the doubt with the rationale that maybe the post in the picture was actually a second re-post on CL, a cleaned-up and better organized version of the original post that made for an easier image to place on the blog.

Of course neither of us actually dug around to track down your post on Craigslist to see what the timestamp really is, but I figured I’d just ask.

Thanks Meg. You’ve provided us with needed entertainment. Have a splendid Tuesday.

Chad and his friend bring up a completely valid point, and now I'm nervous that other people noticed the timestamp and think I'm a Frances Fabricator, so allow me to share my response in order to clear up any confusion:

Dear Chad:

That's a good question, with a good answer. The Craigslist Coffee Challenge really happened and you have my word on that. I originally posted the ad at approximately 1 o'clock in the afternoon and received my coffee at approximately 4. However, my ad was flagged and deleted by Craigslist before I could take a screen shot to prove that I actually posted it (please see forwarded email below). I felt the screen shot of the ad was crucial to the effectiveness of the post and thus re-published it, solely for getting said shot. I didn't realize the time stamp would be incorrect and I'd look like a liar. Which is upsetting, because it really happened. Man is my face red. Sigh...

I hope this clears up any confusion. Thank you for giving me the benefit of the doubt, unlike your friend, who I deduce is an asshole.

Just kidding.

(Not really.)

Love,
Meg

---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: craigslist <noreply@craigslist.org>
Date: Wed, Jul 29, 2009 at 4:58 PM
Subject: flagged & removed: 1295359165 (domestic gigs) Need someone to bring me coffee!
To: meg@2birds1blog.com

Your posting has been flagged for removal.

Approximately 98% of postings removed are in violation of craigslist posting guidelines.

Please make sure you are abiding by all posted site rules, including our terms of use.

In conclusion: the Craigslist Coffee Challenge really happened, I'm an idiot and Chad's friend is probably not an asshole. Okay? Well all on the same page? GOOD. Moving on.

- Whenever I flip by an ad for the TV version of 10 Things I Hate About You, I always think it says 10 Things I Hate About Iraq for a solid fraction of a second.



And what's weirder is that in that fraction of a second, I'm not confused. It makes sense to me that there would be a TV show called 10 Things I Hate About Iraq. Because I can think of 10 Things I Hate About Iraq:
1.) It's hot
2.) It's sandy
3.) It's where the Pauly Shore movie In the Army Now was filmed
4.) Just kidding, that was Chad/Libya
5.) Further research shows it was actually Imperial Valley, California
6.) It's all war-torn and shit
7.) Our troops are there
8.) But are not quite welcomed
9.) Have you ever seen a camel spider?
10.) I know, right?!

Although if 10 Things I Hate About Iraq actually was a show, it would be ABC Family.

- I'm jealous of my sheets because they're back on my bed and I'm not.

- The other day I got what I thought were eye makeup remover pads, but turned out to actually be Noxema astringent pads. This isn't going where you think it is; I didn't burn my eyes out with astringent. (Thank Jebus.) What stopped me was that familiar stingy Noxema smell that prompted the most intense flashback I've ever experienced in my entire life. One minute I'm standing there in 2009 and the next it's 1996: I'm 11-years-old, defniately own a lava lamp, am wearing board shorts, Airwalk sneakers and a Johns Hopkins lacrosse camp t-shirt and I'm standing in Mrs. Jordan's 4th period science class researching the most effective and time efficient way to kill myself to escape the pain and torture that is The Middle School Experience. Snap back to 2009. I put the lid back on the brand new bottle of Noxema, walked it out of my apartment, down the hall and threw it down the trash shoot where the scent could haunt me no more.

I then spent the rest of the night blowing my nose and thanking god I finally developed breasts.

Recrap Wednesdays: Fatties Need Luv 2

Before I recap last night's second episode of More to Love, let's all just take a moment to agree that as I've discussed ad nauseam, this show is degrading and sick and disgusting and mocking overweight people is absolutely despicable and blickity blah blah blah. So any and all fatty jokes I make from here on out should be taken with a pinch of salt and heaping tablespoon of understanding. Okay? Okay. Let's begin.

FATTIES ON PARADE YOU GUYS! Fatties on motherfucking parade! (Bahaha, just kidding.) So our second episode opens with the ladies hanging out in the house, cooking foods (obviously.) It's at this point that it's officially established that Christina is the bitch of the house. Christina is that girl in your middle school who overcompensated for being a few pounds overweight by being a giant cuntbag to everyone and handed out BJ's like Greenpeace pamphlets to make herself feel wanted. So Christina = bitch. You with me? Ok good, moving on. Emme comes in and informs the gals that they will be split into two groups for the first round of group dating. Anna and Malissa are arbitrarily named team captains and get to pick their teams. This begins a whole slew of "OMG I always hated picking teams for sports as a kid because I was so fat and nobody wanted me on their team and cry cry cry!" confessionals. (Don't worry, I kept a cry tally for the episode. I'll give you a final count at the end.) Christina whines about how she was always picked last as a kid for Red Rover and was always insecure it was because she's fat. Frankly, in a game where the objective is to hurl yourself at a bunch of children's little chicken arms, I think being a larger person might actually be an advantage. Something tells me she was picked last due to the cuntbag factor. And I was right! For Christina was picked last in this situation too, because, "she's a bitch." (From Anna's mouth to god's ears.) When Christina realizes she's been picked last, she looks around all sad like and whines, "I thought you guys liked me!" The rest of the girls all awkwardly look down at the ground as a tumble weed rolls by.

CURVEBALL ALERT! Emme says, and I quote, "All of you know how upsetting it is to be picked last," (which is a little presumptuous of her...) "so today, we're celebrating the person who gets picked last." YEP! Because Christina was picked last, she gets the only solo date with Luke. But not before Group 1 goes on their first date...

A lovely midnight cruise on a yacht called "The Dream Maker"! I was genuinely hoping the yacht would be called "The Chutney Monger," but we can't always get what we want, can we? After the girls board the yacht, Luke begins a champagne toast, and I swear to god, Heather gets so nervous she runs below deck and pukes off the side of the boat. And like a lot of puke too. Like, whole legs of lamb come up. Luke and the girls just kind of awkwardly stand there, champagne glasses still in the air listening to Heather make "HUUUUUUUUUUUAHHHHHHHHHH" noises below deck and offer an occasional "...ohh no..." After she's done puking, Heather crawls into a little ball on the couch and cries herself to sleep. Which is odd, because I did the exact same thing after watching this scene.

But the show must go on! Luke makes another toast (which, hand to god, includes the line, "May all of our dreams come true on...The Dream Maker") and the awkward group dating begins. It's established that Malissa is the bitch of the group. I don't like Malissa. First of all, her name is Malissa. Second of all, she freaks me out because she has a skinny person head on a fat person body. She's like the centaur of fatties:

Later, Luke goes below deck to check on Pukes where he repeatedly refers to her as "precious."

Things I Find Precious: kitties; fat babies; Evie; this video of a pug pushing a stroller.

Things I Do Not Find Precious: Nazis; highway wrecks; shoe horns; fat girls who just puked.

Later at dinner, Kristian dishes to the camera that Malissa hasn't always been fat―she got fat after high school, which totally explains her mix 'n match body! Ooooo gurrrl...we got some resentment going on in the house about that...INTRIGUE.

The next night, Christina goes out on her solo date with Luke. On said date, Christina wears a very short, very tight and very, very spangly bubble dress. As my notes say: "a spangly bubble dress never did anyone any favors." Luke whisks Christina and her bubble dress away to Vegas for the night on a private jet. Christina cries (of course) and sniffles about how because she's a bigger girl, she's never been on a date like this. To which I say, well neither have I bitch! And I don't think it has anything to do with my weight. I think it has more to do with the fact that most people don't go on dates sponsored by Fox. Now stop feeling sorry for yourself and buy some extra yardage for your dress.

Back at the house, Bonnie (of "I LOVE SKEWERED MEATS!" fame) refers to Christina as the smelly kid in class you always get paired with and have to stand next to in class pictures. To which I say to Bonnie: if Luke doesn't marry you, I will.

The next day, the girls are all hangin' around the house, eatin' ho-hos and the like when they get a note from Luke. (By the way, every note the girls get from Luke is attached to a comically over-sized engagement ring the size of a steering wheel. There's something about that that's so...fucked up.) Group #2 is informed that they'll be going to the pool on their date, so wear your swimsuits! This causes a river's worth of tears to be shed for obvious reasons. Fifty boxes of tissues later, they all cram themselves into their suits and head to the pool where Luke gets them liquored up to calm their nerves. Good move on his part. The rest of this date was pretty boring. They do some cannon balls, cry about their childhood and then a few lucky ones get to make out with him in a jacuzzi. There really is a difference between watching attractive people and ugly people make out. It's the same reason I can't watch Xtube or youporn. Mediocre and realistic just doesn't get the job done.

The next night, there's a pre-elimination mixer. Basically this is more time Luke spends making out with the girls. I think I've officially decided that Luke is creepy. Here's why: you know at the end of a Saturday night when you've been boozing pretty hard all night and you're about T-minus one hour to pass out and you're starting to get a little sloppy, but then you meet a hot guy and you're like, "Come on body! Just hold out for one more hour so we can keep talking to this guy and maybe get a little make out sesh out of this! Don't start stumbling and slurring yet! Keep those eyes open! Get your game up!"? Well that's what Luke is like all the time. It always seems like he just took two ambien and is fighting the urge to fall asleep. But then he's making out with these chicks like he's so into them. I don't really get it...and I don't think I want to.

At the mixer, Lauren gets some face time with Luke and partakes in one of the oldest traditions of reality dating competition shows in the book: throwing someone under the bus. She dishes to Luke that Arianne doesn't want kids and is old enough to be his mother. OOOOO! Bitch! She goes on to list the other women she deems to be "old" and explains that older women aren't fun because they're past the "bungee jumping phase of their lives." Oh, come on Lauren...how often are you strapping your fat ass into a harness and hurling yourself off a cliff? Also, the oldest chick she mentions is 32! Who are you? Me?

In the end, two random chicks and Arianne end up going home. Wamp, wamp.

Final cry tally: 16

Next week: THE FAT PROM! The teaser was just shots of them struggling to zip up their dresses...I'm not kidding. Get excited. And then get sad. But then get excited again!

Anatomy of your ipod

So as a birthday treat to myself, I decided to go further into debt upgrade my iPhone. Since I’m already living beyond my means, I figured why not splurge on a model with more memory. I’d been surviving with about half of my music library, which seemed doable; I picked which songs I wanted to listen to and would theoretically switch some of them out when I grew tired of them. Of course, being as lazy as I am, I never got around to switching any songs out, so I eventually got sick of all of the music on my pod. Then there’d be times I’d think to myself “Hey self, I really want to hear X song right now” only to realize it’s one of the songs that didn’t make the grade.

Now, all that’s changed and I can listen to all my songs whenever I want. But this has made me realize that there are certain types of songs that everyone has in their music library. I am more than 100% certain that your music is composed of any number of the following categories:

Songs You Cannot Stop Playing. These are probably songs you’ve recently downloaded and are on heavy rotation. Usually these are flash in the pan songs that have a great beat, but not much else going on. Like that guy/girl you dated for about a month who was slammin’ but the personality of a wet dishrag. These songs usually replace and then quickly become Songs You Couldn’t Stop Playing, Then Stopped Playing, and Now Never Want to Listen to Again.

Eternal Songs. Unlike Songs You Cannot Stop Playing, Eternal Songs are the types of songs that no matter how many times you listen to them, you will always love them. Or maybe they’ve dropped off your radar momentarily, but when you rediscover it you think to yourself “God, I love this song. I should listen to this more.”

Songs with Nostalgic Value. Remember that summer when you and your friends went on that crazy road trip and Sarah got poison ivy on her cooter when she peed in the woods? Or that party where Mark jumped off the roof onto the trampoline, but missed and landed in Steve’s mom’s begonias? Yea, “Send In The Clowns” always reminds me of that. These are songs that you instantly associate with a specific time/person/event in your life. Not to be confused with…

Songs with Nostalgic Value but Annoy the Shit Out of You. These songs are still nostalgic, but not in a good way. They immediately conjure up mental images of friends who’ve scorned you, or exes who dumped you, or people you just plain don’t like. For instance, I had to remove Jason Mraz’s “The Remedy” from my iTunes because this douche I used to work with in college always played it on repeat from his cubicle. Literally whenever you stopped and listened, it would be playing. And I can’t hear that song without cringing and thinking of filing college admissions essays…ugh. Bad memories.

Songs You Heard From Your Grandmother. This encompasses any number of solid gold oldies that you listen to even if you never heard them from your grandmother, because her victrola didn’t play Abba. Don’t act like you don’t think about what it’d be like to live when these songs were big. Like being a flapper when you listen to big band music or seeing Studio 54 firsthand while Donna Summer is pumping in your earbuds. That’s why you listen to oldies.

Songs That You Won’t Let Your Grandmother Listen To. Mostly explicit rap and/or R&B songs detailing just how freaky one is/plans to be. The more hard-core, the less likely you’ll let Nana listen to it. More often enjoyed for a good 5th grade giggle at the brazen things said. (Yea I used the word “brazen” in reference to rap music, what of it?) Think back to the first time you heard Ludacris’ “Fantasy”. Did you not chuckle just a little bit thinking about doing it in the White House, tryin’ to make them turn the lights out? Not to be confused with Songs You Played for Your Mom Without Knowing All The Words First. See this post.

Sometimes these songs can become Songs That Were Funny the First Time You Heard Them But Have Since Lost Their Charm. You mat have read my comparative analysis of Bootyhole vs Take a Lick. While those songs make me chuckle, they are not nearly as funny the 30th time around. And the Ukes’ “Gay Boyfriend” has definitely stopped being kitschy after years of passing it around the interwebs.


Songs You Hope Never Show Up on Shuffle When Your IPod is Used at a Party. Otherwise known as Secret Shame songs. This could mean anything to anyone, but they are the songs that you really like but would never admit to in a crowd. Maybe it’s because you’re supposed to love Goth music, and Taylor Swift is as far from goth as you can get, or because you’re 30-something and you really love this one song by “The Wiggles”. Either way, it’s on your iPod and you aren’t proud of it.

Songs Downloaded For a Specific Playlist But You’ve Only Listened To Once. Sophomore year of college, I made my group of friends a CD of all the songs over the course of that year that we’d had a joke about, in one respect or another (Yea I’m that guy. Whatever, it’s not like I macramed them anything…that was senior year). But I cannot tell you a single song on that CD, as I haven’t listened to them since then (except for the extended version of “Thank You For Being a Friend” by Andrew Gold).

Songs You Downloaded Just So You Can Say You Listen To These Songs. This might be specific to a certain brand of person, music elitists we’ll call them. Conversations with this person about these types of songs go a little something like this:

You: “Hey, what are you listening to?”

Music elitist: “Oh it’s just this obscure band I discovered called ‘Shoebox Treetrimmers’. I’m really into them lately. You’ve probably never heard of them.”

You: “Why am I friends with you again?”

Songs You “Discovered”…Along With Half of America Because It Was Featured on Grey’s Anatomy. I’m gonna be up front with you, I find a lot of new music via television shows, movies, commercials, Starbucks and what have you. I have no shame in my game.

Songs That You Have Absolutely No Idea Why You Own Them. This happens to me more often than not. I don’t know if I just blackout when I download music or if I selectively repress certain songs, but I’ve found a few songs in my repertoire (Natalie –Going Crazy), which constantly befuddle me. I don’t remember downloading it nor do I particularly like the song. I should just delete it, but why would I do that?

Songs That You Relate To/Try to Relate To/Desperately Want to Relate To But Probably Never Will. Songs are like movies, in that no one’s life is like that. Sure the general themes happen to everyone: falling in love, falling out of love, cheating, fighting, making out, making up, having fun with your friends, et al, but no song is going to fit your situation to a tee. Not that I think anyone is going to go Single White Female or Talented Mr. Ripley (according to gender) and imitate a song word for word. I’m just saying some people might need some definition to their lives and they think Paramore is the only thing that is capable of doing that.

Songs You Will Dance To No Matter What. See Christina Aguilera “Dirrty”. Seven years later and I still cannot help myself.

I got in an Internet fight with the chick who took the last babka on Seinfeld.

I was truly having a wonderful Sunday evening last night. I was sitting on my couch writing letters to you fine people, sipping a glass of Shiraz and watching The 40-Year Old Virgin on TBS in peace. But my brief moment of bliss was interrupted by an email I received from a fellow blogger nominated for the Blogger's Choice Award: Best Humor Blog. It was from a woman named Suzy. It said this:

Subject: Humor Bloggers thingamajig
Message: Hey, a few of us have noticed that your blog just leapfrogged all the other humor bloggers in record time.

*ZACK MORRIS STYLE TIME OUT!* After reading that, I immediately thought to myself, "Wow. My readers are fucking badasses." I gave myself a pat on the back and you a standing ovation. I thought maybe Suzy was writing me from one humor blogger to another to give me kudos. After all, we humor bloggers have to stick together, right? *TIME IN!*

Usually that is a sign of cheating.

Ah. Wrong.

Upon further examination, most of your voters have only voted for 2 blogs, both of which are yours.

Just an FYI, if all your votes are coming from one or two IP's, they will not be counted, at least that's what former people have told us. It's taken me 3 months to get to 115 so how could you get to second place in 3 weeks?

I just thought it was only fair to give you a head's up.

Suzy

I was fuming you guys, fuming. Because of course I didn't cheat! Lord knows I got a lot of time on my hands (let's not pretend I don't,) but I don't have so much time that I'm able to create 288 fake email accounts to win an Internet award. I mean, maybe if I still lived at home, sure, but I do occasionally have a social life. Occasionally. So I sent Suzy back the following:

Dear Suzy:

Most of my readers do not read other blogs. Ergo, they only voted for my blog and the two categories I was voted for. I managed to get so many votes in so little time by asking my readers to vote for me. And they did. You should try it.

Best of luck and thank you for your concern,

Meg

And I was ready to let it go and move on with my life. I was still pissed and offended, of course, but I chalked it up to Internet shenanigans and felt better.

Later, as I sat at the bar of Tryst enjoying a lovely tuna melt, chatting with friends, my phone's email alert dinged and my relaxing Sunday evening was interrupted by Suzy, again:

In a message dated 8/2/2009 4:03:07 PM Pacific Daylight Time, meg@2birds1blog.com writes:

Most of my readers do not read other blogs.

One of your readers is one of my readers and Vodka Mom's readers as well. Kathy B!, and she also voted for me and Vodka. It's kind of ridiculous to think NONE of your readers read anyone but you two. You guys really are in your 20's aren't you? :)

Well, good luck anyway...s

And with that, Suzy ignited the fiery, cold-hearted, bitch within. Before she had only ignited the snarkess within, which of course isn't that hard to ignite, but with just two careless strokes of the keyboard she took it to a whole other level. Which strokes, you ask? I have three words for you: colon, end, parenthesis.

As I've discussed before, I have no time for passive-aggressive people. If you're going to be an asshole to me, just be an asshole. Don't try to LOLZ it off at the end and add a smiley face like you're just joshin' around. Because Suzy wasn't joshin' around. She was accusing me of being a liar and a cheat. And now, immature. Which of course I am, but frankly you're the one researching the statistics of who voted for me for an Internet award on your Sunday evening and emailing me to start shit. But either way, kudos to you for calling me out on being young and immature. However, why add the :) ? :) is on the same infuriating level as when Mark-the-Big-Gay-Co-Worker laughs after he says something rude to me. Busting out a :) and/or laughing after you say something rude does not negate the rude statement you just made. Same goes for when people say "No offense but..." or "With all do respect..." before they say something rude. It's like an insurance policy that if I understandably react with anger, you can always be like, "WOAH, WOAH, WOAH! I was just joking around!!! JEEZ, calm down! LAMAO HEHE :P " And that, my friends, is cowardly. Because if you're going to start shit with me, it's only fair that you be prepared to take the shit I'm going to give you back. Asshole is a two-way street. You give it; you get it.

I threw my delicious tuna melt down in anger. I felt sick. I had lost my appetite. (Just kidding, I obviously finished it later.) How dare this woman 1.) accuse me of being a liar and a cheat 2.) then accuse me of being immature and finish it off by 3.) adding the ever passive-aggressive :) ?? I raged. It was one of those situations where you're sitting there talking to your friends about it getting angrier and angrier and thinking about all of the passive-aggressive people in your life and all of the hypocrites who piss you off on a daily basis until your hands are shaking and you're finally like, "WHO THE FUCK DOES THIS PERSON THINK SHE IS?! NOW TASTE MY PAIN, BITCH!!!!!" So, I sent the following back:

"It's kind of ridiculous to think NONE of your readers read anyone but you two."

That's not what I said. I said:

"MOST of my readers do not read other blogs."

And just so you don't make this mistake again--per Websters Dictionary:
Most (Adj)
1.) Greatest in quantity, extent or degree.
2.) The majority of.
(i.e. not NONE)

'You really are lonely, jealous and in your 30's aren't you? :)' I'm
genuinely SHOCKED you don't have more votes.

Best of luck trying to prove my sinisterly evil master plan of rigging the Blogger's Choice Awards. ;)

- Meg

Before you email me all "WHATEVER BITCH, 30 IS THE NEW 20 AND 20 IS THE NEW 10 AND YOU'RE THE NEW ASSHOLE!!!!" I obviously don't think 30 is old. Given Suzy's dig at me my age, I assumed she was in her 30's. So I made the executive decision to exploit that fact. It's like when you're mad at a friend so you call her fat even though she's obviously thin. You don't mean it, you both know it's not true and you both know you're only saying it out of anger. Was it a cheap shot? Yes. Was it deserved? Of course! But if you didn't want me to take a cheap shot, you probably shouldn't have taken one at me. It's my You Started It Principle.

Her response:

In a message dated 8/2/2009 6:31:13 PM Pacific Daylight Time, meg@2birds1blog.com writes:

'You really are lonely, jealous and in your 30's aren't you? :)' I'm
genuinely SHOCKED you don't have more votes.

Spoken like a 20 year old. I've read your blog, why haven't you checked mine out?

To be fair, I had read her blog. I read the most recent post about how irritating the AT&T rollover minutes commercials are (which I disagree with. That kid is adorable) and then read the next post, which opened with:

"Bloggers have, over the years, asked me how I manage to be consistently funny (lie). Did I have any tips for them to bump up their funny? Being lazy, I ignored those emails completely."

After that I gave up. Because this chick kind of sounds like an asshole. And if I'm reading any asshole's blog, it's Meghan McCain's.

Besides, Suzy was getting off topic here. So I sharpened my knives and responded:

Spoken like a senile old grandma who's just makin' shit up. When did I say I never read your blog?

Her response:

Out of curiosity, why are you so angry in your emails? s

That statement was basically just a more eloquent version of a :). She was throwing her asshole-car into reverse and trying to get herself out of the situation she had started. I just will never understand people who start shit and then act so surprised when I get mad and act accordingly. It's just mind boggling. Steven Hawking should study it.

Alright Grams, lets recap what's happened in the last 4 hours: you went out of your way to accuse me of cheating and rigging a blog election, then passive-aggressively called me immature for God knows what reason. Don't start shit with me and act clueless when you can't keep up with your own accusations.

OH SHIT! OH SHIT! OH SHIT!

Her response:

I was trying to warn you, sorry you took it the way you did. You're on your own now.

GAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! SO. INFURIATING. Because Suzy wasn't trying to do me a solid and help me out. She was accusing me of cheating! That's rather different than offering heart-felt blogging advice (that I never asked for.) And how else was I suppose to take it? "You're a big liar and a cheat and I'm going to investigate all of the people who voted for you and stalk down their IP addresses and disqualify you from the competition, negating two years of hard work. But you can't get mad at me because I'm adding LOLZ ;)"

K. Thanks again for the selfless accusation. It totally wasn't offensive at all. Let me know if you want stickers.

And that was the end of that. Later that night, I tossed and turned as I struggled with the dirty feeling of having been in an Internet fight. I realize being a blogger I'm already skirting on Losertown and Nerdville, but a bona fide Internet fight/blog war? That's not really my style. But she just enraged me so much I couldn't take the higher road and not fight back. Ugh...unclean...unclean!

One thing stuck with me though: why was she so concerned that I hadn't read her blog? Was there something on there I missed? I went back and read it more carefully. And that's when I saw her bio:

My name is Suzy Soro and I'm a comedian. I'm the woman who got the last chocolate babka on Seinfeld. I'm also the person that Larry David called a very bad name on Curb Your Enthusiasm.

Hm. So I was completely incorrect in my thinking she was some random chick in her early 30's living in LA struggling to make it as a comedian. And then I immediately felt like a complete asshole. But I didn't feel like a complete asshole because I had pissed off someone established who could hurt my future career. I don't want to be a comedian or an actor or anything that Suzy's connections could blacklist me from. I felt pissed off because her being older and established made all of my age jokes completely un-ironic and just...mean. And I'm not mean. Snarky? Yes. Elitist? Of course! But mean? Not at all! Because being mean on the Internet is something I am in no way interested in. It takes the wit and intelligence of a glue gun. It makes me no better than this:


I feel horrible. I feel dirty. And I feel mad. Again. Because now I feel so guilty, I'm obviously going to apologize. But me apologizing takes away any and all of the excellent points I made about what a total asshole she was and kind of makes me look like a pussy.

God. I can never win.

Suzy Soro: I'm sorry I called you old. Because you're not old. Andy Rooney is old. I accidentaly stooped to an all-time low, and for that I apologize. Because I only wanted to stoop somewhat low. I mean, after all, you were rude and patronizing, which of course is your own fault. But I shouldn't have called you old. And for that I'm sorry.

Sincerely,
Meg

Sigh...Guess it's time to edit this list:

Meg's Enemies:
The bartender at Axis
Meghan McCain
Suzy Soro