Extremely Malnourished and Incredibly Shallow

by Jallison Sharting Fatso

The 3 glorious months of living off the fat of the land, a.k.a. graduation $$, have come to a screeching halt and the only thing left in my pantry is a box of instant mashed potatoes.

My problem is that my spending habits always seem to adjust to my income, and by adjust I mean exceed. I go immediately into sushi-for-every-meal mode. And what goes better with sushi than a new Macbook Pro? Nothing. $4000 quickly becomes $-34 plus a post-it note from my landlord saying "reminder: rent was due yesterday". I've realized 3/4 of all my purchases are from restaurants. My Wells Fargo bank statement looks like a ban-list for a WeightWatchers participant, with Taco Bell listed over 6 times for emphasis. My mother sat me down to make a "budget", which has always been a word ranking just below "diet" on the list of things I wish adult women would stop talking to me about.

Her first suggestion was to save all food related receipts and keep them in a place where I can easily be shamed by them, like the cup holder of my car. However, shame hasn't been quite the effective motivator since I got a bowl hair cut and a "flames" themed wardrobe right before switching to a new school in the 5th grade. The stack of receipts is quickly crunched down by my Rolo McFlurry cup.

Her second and third attempts took the form of emails about Type II Diabetes and starvation in the third world. Both "made me feel bad" as I guess was their intent but they really only curbed the spending of that particular afternoon. Guilt seems like a powerful driving force, but it never really inspires change beyond the handful of situations immediately following.

The closest thing to actual, long lasting motivation for self-control came yesterday afternoon when, after ordering a Big Mac sandwich, I pulled forward to find the McDonald's drive-thru attendant to be morbidly obese- the kind of girth that demands elastic and makes roller coasters out of the question. In a moment of clarity that unfortunately coincided with a moment of eye contact, I put my foot to the gas and kept driving without paying or picking up my food. If McDonald's replaced the giant pictures of 'Quarter Pounders with Cheese' on the windows with equally giant pictures of 'Donna at the Drive-Thru Window' it would really solve a lot of my problems.

Ba-da-bum-ba-da... I'm an asshole.

If God is a DJ, Life is a Dancefloor

Guess who's back at home? That's right, I am. And today is Sunday, so today my blinds were opened "to let the Son shine in, the Risen Son!" at 8f30 a.m. I'll let you decide if that was a typo. Born Again Radio blared from the living room and after an hour of fashioning ear plugs out of pillow tassels, I lifted my "grouch pouch" (body) out of bed and out the door to avoid any further "You're not coming to Church with us :(?" questioning.

Being a recent graduate, I already feel a pressure to BE AN ACTUAL ADULT/make my Facebook page look better, so my mom's "good adults go to church" dogma gets to me more than, say, her "don't eat that much cheese before bed" one. All I'm saying is if the cheese is there, I'm not just "going to sleep" without eating it! LOL Moms R from Mars, Kids R from Venus!

Maybe if this guy was going Sunday morning, I'd go. I feel like he would have a sweet list of books about how Andy Warhol was Christian without knowing it that he could jot down for me. Color me appreciative!

Runnin' Wit Chocolate: A Short Story About My Waning Popularity

I exercise like a dojo, so it's only fitting that I start this story by telling you I rode the stationary bike in the gym tonight for 20 minutes. I'm not bragging because it's such a usual thing for me to work up a sweat, I'm just telling you to "set the scene" as Shakespeare once said, probably.

So I'm riding the bike, listening to my power song (which I will never reveal to you) and I realize... I'm straight up panting, I mean pan-ting like a dog; a dog who hasn't ran even close to a mile in years and counts masturbation as exercise. My music was blocking out the heaving, and when I realized the decible of sound coming from deep within me it was too late; the damage was done and everyone around me could tell this, was a New Years resolution workout. And also, I ate a whole tube of BBQ Pringles earlier today. Nike Active Capris was looking at me with pity usually reserved for amputees and Tiny Reebok Shorts was smiling up over a book that I will now bitterly guess was Eat, Pray, Love. I was bright red and I'm sure I looked like some devil/puffer fish version of Donald Trump. So I did what any other self-respecting dojo would do, I kept working out for five more minutes at a sneakily decreased setting; then I left.

I was on my way back to my dorm room when I decided to stop by my friend Chad's to see how his Christmas break had been. It turns out he went to Kansas so all his stories were really boring, but in the middle of a story about "the pictures of his Grandma 'doing Rodeo' in the 50's" I remembered I had left like, 3 giant Hershey chocolate bars in his room after a bonfire last semester and he's really healthy so they were totally still there! Hooray! I left instantly because fate had run it's course and I even decided to run back to my dorm since my workout had been cut short.

I sprinted the lower parking lot and then proudly bent over in front of Nease Hall to heave the dey-vil spirits out. Bending over I discovered the chocolate bar closest to my sweaty palm had completely melted so I licked it off. I heard laughing and spotted, just over the horizon, Nike and Reebok on a cool-down walk after their rigorous workout. They passed me within seconds and it was too late to hide the evidence of the 3 giant Hersey bars that probably said "Family Size!" on them somewhere, so I stood there still borderline panting, meekly licking my palms trying to act like I was too pre-occupied (with licking myself (?)) to notice them.

Let's hear it for 2011!

Cousin It

CousinIT from Ally Beardsley on Vimeo.

You Can't Teach an Old Dog

[*This picture is not entirely applicable because my old car just crashed- it never burned or had children in masks circle around it- but I laughed until I cried when I saw the 1st Mickey who has 0.00% of a neck.]

I have been carless for 4 months now (note that's carless, not careless- i have been careless for 22 years now). In these few months I've learned the value of sacrificing your pride to ask that freshman with her car on campus for a ride to a dentist appointment- wherein which she ops to wait for you in the sitting room and your dentist tells her how many cavities you've had as well as making her promise to document your flossing each night. Public enemy #1: Gingivitis, the silent killer. I've also learned the art of stowaway riding to the store or bank by sneaking into peoples cars under a blanket (pride still intact).

BUT NOW after months of not having a car, (the links are to prove I'm self-aware & know my current problems are non-problems in perspective) I GOT A NEW (TO ME) CAR!

It's a '94 Jetta, it was my friend Andrew Gumm's and I love it; but it's a stick shift & I have no idea how to get it to Taco Bell.

After a few "lessons" (a.k.a. tricking my stick-knowledgeable friends into sitting in the car with me while i repeatedly stall it down a hill) I'm not feeling too confident. But pride comes before the fall so insecurity must come before the rise to power? I'm right. Eventually I think driving stick over all the rolling, steep, beautiful, steep hills of Point Loma will be as blissful as it is anxiety-filled. Kind of how Ryan Gosling is scary in the best possible way.

Maybe I'll even get to be a Jetta driver of this caliber! WHOA did he just hit 70 RPMS?? And 40 MPH?? P.S. "Let your shoulder lean, shoulder lean, shoulder lean." -The official Driving Stick Anthem

Off Brand Mexican Cheetos

I have a cold so I'm trying to do what my mom's texts say and, "Stay hydrated sweetie!". My dorm room looks like a scene from Signs with half used water bottles everywhere. That, and I've started making clicking noises as I move around, it helps clear my sinuses.

I spend about 16 hours hacking up friends in bed. I'm really haggard, I almost took a photobooth picture of myself to illustrate this post and that's when I realized I had slowly developed a middle part and contemplated shaving my head. There is a silver lining though, I always use times I'm sick to try to start eating healthier because I can't taste anything anyway and being healthy is a l l t h e r a g e. I bought myself a Costco pack of Boca Burgers. Unfortunately, the smell of a microwaved (oddly sweaty) Boca Burger mixed with the convalescent smell of my room already is a gastly combination.

When friends walk in I blink twice to say hello but they take one look at the tissue boxes, half empty water bottles and flee my catatonic state (usually clasping a rosary I didn't see them bring in). They care, they just show it in other ways like febreezing my room in the middle of the night. I lay there breathing in fumes of mutual beneficiality and then fall asleep (read: lose consciousness). I love them!

Last week when I was a little less "Monster Hospital" and a little more "Wide Eyes" (I'm

trying to get another endorsement as a music blog) I finished unpacking my dorm room, went to a bon fire where my friends and I made s'mores, sang songs about never becoming depressed adults, and swam in the bay in our underwear yelling like animals into the night. C'est la vie. The next night I saw RATATAT for free at the House of Blues downtown because

some random guys twitter was giving the $34 tickets away if you texted him your name. Sketchy, but worth it. The guy ended up being from the opening band DOM, who I liked until I saw them live- they were so bad the Israeli guy behind me yelled YOU SUCK! & THIS IS TERRIBLE! in between every song. There were two fights everyone had to dodge and right when I thought I was safe, a crowd surfer fell on his neck right in front of me.

In other news: Hey Emmys WTF???

Edie Falco from NURSE JACKIE won best leading actress in a COMEDY SERIES when up against Tina Fey & Amy Poehler?!

Nurse Jackie is a comedy? Yes, it's funny that Edie Falco thinks she's passing as a woman but not as funny as Liz Lemon eating off-brand mexican cheetos! AHAHAHA- OFF BRAND MEXICAN CHEETOS!!

Greek Chorus: "Do better next time Emmys!"

Emmys: "Sawwy."

i h888 honkers but now I'm accidentally one of them

My car's horn is broken so whenever I make sharp turns it lays into itself and accosts everyone around me who, in turn, look at me as if I am the rudest person they've ever seen. I can hear some part to the horn clanging around in my steering column so I guess it gets pinned in between other parts when I make a turn.

My first attempts at saving face were to pretend to wave at people on the street so it looks like I have a reason for honking; unfortunately they have all been anxious mothers with babies in strollers and the honk goes on for too long to be cute & friendly and my confused and frantic waving makes the whole interaction 9-1-1 worthy.

I'll get it fixed soon seeing as how I GOT A JOB! I'm working at Domino's where I put pepperonis on your pizza, buffalo sauce on your chicken wings and bring them both to your doorstep at which point I expect a $10 tip (my first day some of the other drivers regaled me with stories of houses who give out $10 tips, I'm sure they are the same houses my cousin told me about back in '96 who give out king-sized candy bars for Halloween)

I usually only get like 10¢-$1 but i think that is just because everyone can tell I ate some of their chicken wings in the car on the way over.

I love the job because I get to drive around listening to public radio & i can feel myself growing increasingly informed-citizeny. The news stories are usually really interesting & sometimes I don't want to get out of the car. Sometimes I just sit there in your driveway eating your pizza and listening to the radio. (that's not true) (that's true)

Yesterday, the headline story was one of POWER! CORRUPTION! and DRIVING INTO MAILBOXES (I clearly stayed in the driveway for this one)

July 24, 2010

The story was on Robert Rizzo, this LA city official who is resigning because word got out about him paying himself $800,000 a year (a.k.a. double what the president makes) for what works out to be a part-time job. He was also paying the county police chief $450,000 per year and his assistant

$400,000 per year. The real uproar was caused by the citizens in his area, called Bell county, because it is one of the poorest in Los Angeles. Many residents are factory workers but there have been a spell of factories closing due to the economic downturn. Bell county had to open up it's own Food Bank because it's need over-extended the existing system for Los Angeles; meanwhile, Rizzo bought box tickets to the Lakers for his extended family. OH ALSO Rizzo got a DUI last month after driving into someone's mailbox- which he initially denied and then pleaded guilty to.

And God's like, "STOP I'm running out out of space in Heaven!"

just kidding God's probably more like, "Heaven's not a tangible place! It's only in your self-serving reward system religion where consumerism has bled into your spirituality and religious holdings where a Heaven has become a reasonable result/reward of a Christian life!"

Literally where did that come from?

OH I also made this little booty baby of a video from clips of this past year's adventures. It turns into a really weird- youtube clip laden- warp speed- Oprah Winfrey- pipe dream after the "fake ending"; I'm not sorry.

HAVE A GREAT WEEK!