This is going to be a quick, short bitch.  I hate my landlord. With a passion. I was planning on doing laundry and shit today, but no. I'm inside cleaning. Why, you ask? Because he's around the building. I don't owe him money or anything, I just think he's a chump. I've actually contemplated crawling down the fire escape with my laundry just to avoid speaking to him. I may need therapy.

It's been a long time.
I know. Bad Tweekerchick. But I've been busy, and honestly I haven't had a whole hell of a lot to say.
Still thinking of a post for ThatsJustNotRight. Any suggestions that don't involve nudity on my part are welcome.

Ignoring previous warnings, I saw Catwoman today. Not that I had a choice, I was one of the lucky staff chosen to take the kids at work to go see it.
I want those 2 hours of my life back. Regardless of the fact that Halle Berry looks hot in leather, the movie sucked my left tit. Seriously. The diolauge was horrendous, the fight scenes looked staged, and the plot...well...finding Waldo is easier.
Save your eight dollars. Or better yet, send it to me so I can go treat myself to a movie that doesn't suck ass.

I'm a happy Tweeker Chick. The Single Man Of My Dreams is coming to play with me the weekend of my birthday (I hope). Hooray! I can't wait. It'll be a good ol hedonistic free for all. Haven't had one of those in awhile. In all honesty, I can't wait though. I'm finally old enough to legally drink with Chris! It's about damn time. He owes me drunken time since before he packed his bags and moved away. Hrmpf. I don't hold a grudge, nope. Not me.

Well I feel shitty leaving such a short post, but I feel like royal shit and I need to go to bed. So check out Ask Pud. I think I'd marry this guy.

 

It is human nature to be upset when someone calls you a name. Most normal people allow it to slide off of their backs and go about their merry way. But there is always that one phrase, that one name, that one little jab, that makes even the nicest of the nice go completely berserk. I found mine today. My boss, lets call him...Dave...decided to take it upon himself to call over my friend/supervisor...who shall remain nameless...to discuss an issue involving me and the (false) idea that I gave my work keys to one of the kids. His little girlfriend, lets call her Evil Claire just to shake things up a little bit, decided to call him on his day off, to feed him this line of bullshit. When the Nameless Supervisor explained what really happened, his response was simple. "Well, Clare's a liar".

Now, mother fucker. I am a lot of things. But I am not a liar.

I lie about two things, and two things only. The drugs I do and the people I have sex with. And anyone who tells you they don't lie about those two things is lying to you. Now. In all fairness, lets break this down.

Example 1: Although against policy, Dave continues to have a relationship with Evil Claire outside of work. Seeing as he is senior staff coordinator and she is just a staff, this is a big no no. When confronted about this, Dave claimed to have nothing but a working relationship with the staff. Maybe they discuss work over the pitchers of beer in the seedy places they hang out.  

Example 2: When asked if he fraternized with any of the staff, Dave said no. Earlier this year he attended a kegger at a staff's apartment, and helped carry Evil Claire home. Maybe he was unclear on the definition of "fraternization".  

Example 3: When asked if he had any relationship other than a professional relationship with Evil Claire, Dave stated no. However, she calls him on his cellphone during her cigarette breaks, and numerous times during the shift. Staff is not permitted to have cell phones, and one would assume that having the bosses number implies more than just a working relationship. Maybe she's trying to "work" her way up the corporate ladder.  

Example 4: Although against policy, Dave continues to call staff in on a one on one basis about rumors that involve Evil Claire. He claims never to have done this, although when the rumor was going around that Sandra got suspended, he all but did a little dance and make a goddamn sign.  

Example 5: Although he claims never to play favorites, one time I saw him kissing Evil Claire in the parking lot. I am open to the idea that I may be mistaken. He might have been giving her CPR while standing up, or trying to eat her face, but it sure looked like a kiss to me.  

 The logical conclusion that one can draw is that not only is Dave a liar, he is also a miserable little asshat. Not that I can blame him. He's 40, balding and makes less than $8 an hour. I'd be a dickhead too if my wife made more than I did, I had a beer belly, a little dick and a shitty car.  And on a side note, buy bigger pants. Nut-cutters are not attractive. It must be rough having to try to dick the 23 year old bleach-blonde meth addict at work to try to get a piece.  

It's okay, Dave. Everyone has things they suck at. Yours just happens to be life.

Bitch.    

Check out the link to Bad Ass Chicks. Somehow, Im ranked #3 on their websites. ROCK THE FUCK ON.
Their site kicks some ass, so check it out.

I just got asked to write a guest post for a website way more popular than my own. Check it out. Tell me what y'all think.
Should I do it? Topic suggestions?   Not that I listen to you all anyway. But I like to make you feel like you are involved.

I just took this cute quiz.
20 Questions To A Better Personality

This is what they came up with for me.

Wackiness: 42/100
Rationality: 36/100
Constructiveness: 50/100
Leadership: 42/100
You are an SEDF--Sober Emotional Destructive Follower. This makes you an evil genius. You are extremely focused and difficult to distract from your tasks. With luck, you have learned to channel your energies into improving your intellect, rather than destroying the weak and unsuspecting.Your friends may find you remote and a hard nut to crack. Few of your peers know you very well--even those you have known a long time--because you have expert control of the face you put forth to the world. You prefer to observe, calculate, discern and decide. Your decisions are final, and your desire to be right is impenetrable.You are not to be messed with. You may explode.
 
It sounds alot like me. Except for the sober part.  

I'm sick as hell. Bronchitis, sinus infection, ear infections and pink eye. So really, no updates until I can function again. Sorry. It figures. But the GOOD news is that Chris is coming to visit soon, so I can stop bitching about it. YAY.
So, until I feel better, there's some porn on the left. Cameron Diaz, Pamela Lee, Gena Lee Nolin, all that good shit. Enjoy.

Here. Y'all can play with this while I work too much and want to die of tiredness. Updates later.

Yes, I know they are still broken. But thanks for the 12,000 emails I have received. Gee. I didn't know the graphics to my own fucking page are broken.

Anyway. I thought I'd be nice, and add Fucking Fred to my list of links. For all of you who missed the Paris Hilton Sex Tape deal.

I think I might move to Canada. I was reading through my Yahoo news, and I see President Bush, claiming that he has made America safer. I also found a story about his opposition to gay marriage.
I for one, would just love to thank President Bush for making our country a safer place to live in. Can you imagine the chaos that would ensue if gay people were allowed to marry? I thank President Bush for not giving them the chance to be treated equally under the laws of this country, and I would personally like to shake his hand for his attention to this very serious issue.
People in Iraq are having their heads blown off because he can't tell his ass from his elbow, but our President is smart enough to know the real danger...gays getting married. It would be a travesty if those queers had the same opportunity to be as miserable as the rest of us.
Thank god we have a President who understands what's really going on.

Still dealing with graphics problem, hold tight folks.

Chris, help me! I'll show you my boobs.



Even I can't make this shit up.

Hey kids. I was planning to update and write about the meaning of life and all that shit.
But I pulled up my pages, and all of my graphics are broken.
Thanks for the emails, kiddies. I'm working on the problem right now. Ok, well, I'm debating calling Chris and offering him sexual favors to fix it, but that is besides the point.

Until then, I'm reviving this link. Yup. Good ol Paris Hilton fucking, sucking and answering the cellphone.
This is for you, Shanda.

At the top is a banner that says "Enter your email address" and "are you 18?" then "JOIN". Enter your email, click yes, and click join. They will send an email, click on the hyperlink in that email. You have to sort through some smut (below all of the pictures is some text, look for the link about Celebrity Videos). The Paris Hilton tape and the new Cameron Diaz tape are all there. Enjoy. I apologize for the run around, but I don't have the space to host the video. Enjoy. And whatever you do, don't register your credit card or anything else. You can get her for free, just like the guy in the video.

Seeing as I try to keep my readers happy...I have found this link.
What is it, you may ask? A link I found from the Gorilla Mask website, linking to the Cameron Diaz Sex Tape.
Yup. A link to the very legit tape of Cameron Diaz, nude naked and otherwise undressed and 20 years old.

No idea how long the links will be active, so enjoy while you can.

Before I go off on my rant, check out The Time Killer. I'm mentioned in it quite a bit. Nothing like The Tweeker Chick, Tijuana, Moms I'd Like to Fuck, the Olsen twins, pony play and tequila worms.
Moving on.

I was perhaps slightly unclear. I am not at all upset with my status of "single". What set me off was the bruise on my arm. So please, stop emailing me cute stories of why it's ok to be single, and why boys suck.
I was emailed a little gem from this place that got my blood boiling.
It's all about how guys suck. I don't have the time, nor will I subject my readers to the entire post, but I will take a minute to single out a few that really got to me.

This chick writes: "Boys don't open the door for someone with breasts anymore. Even worse, the elderly no longer qualify to receive this small act of politeness. Boys will not carry your books from class to class, in a cheap, albeit sweet, effort to move upwards in your esteem.Boys will not allow you to copy the answers to that damned pop math quiz. Of course, thinking of it now, who wants to copy off of some idiot male anyway?
Boys no longer automatically opt to walk between the street and their woman protecting us from cars splashing in puddles, flying bullets and other things. Boys no longer endeavor to learn about the woman they are choosing to spend time with. It seems to me, that ages ago, when men ordered dinner for their women, that the women never got offended. Or scoffed at his incorrect choices. Instead, her palate was sure to be pleased, since said man had taken the time prior to find out what the poor girl liked to eat! Here and now, in glorious America, in the year of someone else's Lord 2004, a woman would spout of some seriously feminist objections to having a man order her meal. I say it would be one less decision I had to make.
Any elderly person, or woman, is now forced to remain standing on the bus, train, etcetera. Regardless if she is weighed down with a million odd packages and three screaming children, a man will simply sit, maintaining his comfortable seat and no doubt rolling his eyes at her tortuous predicament.
A boy will no longer be thankful that he go to hold your hand on the first date,rather he will complain to his friends that the prudish woman did not put out."

I would like to make it known that I think this chick is a complete moron. Lets start at the beginning, shall we?
1) Since when do the presence of breasts have anything to do with my ability to open a door? Although I am a fan of someone opening the door for an elderly person, or a person with their hands full (male OR female, thanks), I am not a fan of a male rushing ahead of me, damn near shoving me out of the way, and standing with the door open while I feel like I should walk faster to get there because he made the effort.

2) Walking around campus, I don't know ONE single guy who would carry my books. Why, you might ask? He's not a pig. He's not a jerk. His hands are full of his own books. The chances of you going to the same building on campus at the same time are slim, so you might as well get used to hauling your own shit, sister. You'll be doing it your whole life with that attitude.

3) Being chivalrous does not constitute being dishonest. Maybe old boy won't let you cheat cause he has a conscience. In my school, cheating is grounds for expulsion. And as cute as you might be and as perky as those tits are, it's just not worth it. Anyway, you have no room to be calling him an idiot, you are the one who needed to cheat in the first place, remember?

4) I don't give a shit if he walks between me and the street, me and the buildings, in front or behind me. It just doesn't fucking matter. If you are close enough to the curb to be splashed by cars driving through puddles, you are a twit who deserves those flying bullets Prince Charming is supposed to be shielding you from.

5) Back when dinosaurs roamed the earth and men ordered dinner for their woman, the woman didn't have the option to be offended. It simply wasn't socially acceptable for women to have an opinion. The idea that it's one less thing for you to worry about worries me. Should men dress us, as well? That's one less thing to worry about. And that pesky right to vote? They should abolish that as well. Another thing I won't lose any sleep over.

6) Why should a man give up his comfy seat because a woman is stupid enough to go shopping with 3 screaming children, 17 shopping bags and no car or taxi? I agree that exceptions should be made for the elderly and the handicapped...But I don't see you moving your self rightgeous prissy ass, do I?

7) I've never found a guy who complained about not putting out on the first date. Because I have opinions, and can carry on a conversation, they want me for more than just a cum rag. Try it sometime. Take a look. Most of the girls who get the shit for not putting out on the first date are the ones with nothing to offer. Maybe getting her to put out is easier than listening to her ramble about chivalry.

This chick needs a serious reality check. If I ever met her, I think I'd punch her in the head. Until then, I'll be opening my own doors, carrying my own shit, doing my own work, walking on whatever the side of the street I feel like, ordering my own food, happily standing wherever I want, and putting out or not putting out as I see fit.

I am on strike.
No more updates from the Tweeker Chick.
Why, you ask?
This is why.
On May 24th, The Single Man Of my Dreams had this to say:


"The "Single" Man of your Dreams:
I love drunken posts. Sorry I wasn't there to see the tweekerchick in action. Next time take pictures (wink…wink).

P.S.- I had a dream about you last night (hehe). I will tell the juicy details later."

I have yet to hear one sordid, juicy detail. Thus, I am on strike until Mr Hottie shoots me an email or calls my phone, and whispers all those dirty little secrets to me.
So there. Blame the rabid eskimo.

Happy 4th of July. I know its a bit late, but I was busy drinking keg beer and watching people's hair get lit on fire. (No, I am not kidding).


What Pulp Fiction Character Are You?
I'm Mia.
"You're known for starting trouble. But you play it cool. Besides, no one can resist your sharp eyes and quick wit. *They* eat from the palm of your hand. Though you have weaknesses, which may have deadly consequences, you, are resurrected, as if the gods themselves breathed immortality into you."
Take it, and tell me how you guy's turned out.

Enjoy. Also, check out Gorilla Mask. It's got a lot of information on Tara Reid's boob job. And let me tell you, those are some monster hooters.