My Imagination.

I switched

2009-01-06T10:09:00.001-08:00

http://jenniepie.tumblr.com/

Don't be mad.

A New Year, A New Template

2009-01-05T10:00:00.000-08:00

Because I have ADD and get bored easy. I will probably be doing this a lot. Don't get weird.

2008-12-30T09:05:00.000-08:00

At the do-it-yourself car wash near my house there are multiple signs that say "No washing out truck beds or pick-ups".

I think it would be more effective to say "No washing out dead bodies or other bad stuff. Not here, alright? Take it elsewhere".

We live in a sketchy neighborhood.

Poor Nicodemus*

2008-12-22T10:36:00.000-08:00

The area near the copier at my work smells like dead rat. I noticed it this morning. It's probably in the walls. No one else seems to notice, so my plan is this:

Tell no one.
Hold my breath every time I pass the area near the copier.

My reasoning for this plan:
If I tell my boss that it smells like dead rat near the copier, she will freak out and want me to do something about it. (i.e. call someone, look behind the copier for the dead rat).
At all costs, I try to avoid doing anything at work because it is annoying and having to hunt down a dead rat would really throw me over the edge.

*Anyone read Secret of NIMH? Anyone? Anyone?

I'm Tingling

2008-12-19T12:58:00.001-08:00

Let's Do This!

Hooray!

A Movie Review

2008-12-18T14:51:00.000-08:00

I watched the screener of this movie all by myself while babysitting. At the end, through my tears, I very passionately and loudly cried out "TRUE LOVE EXISTS!"

Then I realized I was going to wake the kid up and consequently scare her with my impassioned weeping and I told myself to shut up.

2008-12-16T15:28:00.000-08:00

In the tiny grey bathroom at the Creperie on 3rd street, there is a very modern looking chair placed across from the toilet so close that if someone was sitting on the toilet and another person was sitting on the modern looking chair, their knees would touch.

I thought there must be a reason for this strange placement, so as I sat down on the toilet, I had a conversation in my head with the person I imagined would be sitting in that chair.

I thought of an older man with a green sweater vest and round glasses. He told me about his dead wife and interest in historical fiction. I told him that sometimes I am too loud. He said that we are always moving forward even when gravity is being an asshole and I listened.

Neither one of us thought it strange that I was sitting on the toilet and he was sitting on the modern looking chair and our knees were touching.

Some Very Bad Ideas (To be updated frequently)

2008-12-16T09:16:00.000-08:00

- When babysitting for a very nice British family, it is a very bad idea to be watching World's Most Notorious Serial Killers on The History Channel while falling asleep with your legs spread eagle on the coffee table as if you are at the gynecologist (even though this is the most comfortable television watching position to ever have been invented) when the parents arrive home. The nice British parents will look confused, you will quickly sit up wiping drool from the side of your mouth, clumsily change the channel to Dora the Explorer and receive less money than initially agreed upon.

- When performing student's scripts in the end result show for the Young Storytellers Foundation,

(Description from the website: YSF currently serves over 2,500 students in Los Angeles public schools where the concentration of poverty is high and the academic performances tend to be low. During a six-week session of one-on-one mentoring, fourth and fifth grade students write their own short screenplay. Then, YSF invites professional actors to perform the student’s scripts in the school auditorium in front of family, friends, and faculty).

it is a very bad idea to do your "Sassy African American character" for one of the roles when the audience is largely African American. No one will find this funny or charming.

- Thinking you can sing Bette Midler songs such as "The Rose" and "Wind Beneath My Wings" at karaoke when you really cannot. Loud does not equal good. (Side note: A good idea is to do an impression of Bette Midler and get very pretend emotional while singing said songs. People will really eat this up).

Me in 50 years. I can't wait.

2008-12-12T09:18:00.000-08:00

Changes

2008-12-11T09:20:00.001-08:00

I have decided to become a very quiet and intuitive person.

My friend Anne is a very quiet and intuitive person. Also, most independent film stars are quiet and intuitive people (i.e. Ryan Gosling and that girl from Eagle V.S Shark). Also, nuns.

It is a known fact that very quiet and intuitive people can see into your soul and know the real truth about you.

They know that when you storm out of a bar because your friends don't want to play darts with you, you are really just harboring a deep seeded resentment toward your older brother for never letting you play spaceships with him and his friends.

They understand that when you say "I do not want to go out tonight", you are really saying "I have a real problem with letting people love me because my father was a career minded business man who 'worked' long hours at the office and my mother was an unhappy housewife who drowned her sorrows in gin and General Hospital thereby leaving me to spend most of my time alone in the garage crying, playing with wood and developing a real fear of intimacy".

I am the opposite of quiet and intuitive. I am loud and self-involved. When I was small I used to get naked and run around the house screaming at the top of my lungs. My mother would ignore me and I didn't even care.

If you storm out of a bar, I will think it has to do with something stupid I have said that offended you and in order to protect my fragile ego, I will call you a baby behind your back.

If you tell me you "do not want to go out tonight", I will think that is the lamest thing I have ever heard and call you a Party Pooper.

When I try to look deep into the recesses of someone's mind, I get confused and lonely and think about a million grains of sand.

But no longer!

The next time you see me, the air will burn from my stillness and I'll be elbow deep in your soul.

Something Old

2008-12-09T12:48:00.000-08:00

McSweeney's Internet Tendency has a section on their website called Reviews of New Food. A couple years ago they "published" my submission. I was working at the Getty in the Transportation and Security department at the time, and had a boss named Dirk Donaldson and one named Dan Dickerson (no joke). This was the most exciting thing to have happen to me.

I had forgotten about it till Amanda reminded me yesterday.

Burger King Chicken Fries

Submitted by Jennie Pierson

The idea of the Chicken Fry made me wildly optimistic. Why must we limit the shape of processed chicken foods to amorphous blobs? Burger King's genius crack marketing team and award-winning line cooks answered that question with the kind of reckless abandon usually reserved for fusion cuisine and astronaut food. "Replace potato with chicken, replace potato with chicken" was the mantra that echoed through the boardroom and filled VPs and office temps alike with glee.

This should have been a noble and worthy endeavor. This should have changed the face of appetizer-as-meal.

I was disappointed.

Literally expecting french-fry-shaped chicken (i.e., small spears that I could easily grab and eat two or even three of at a time), I instead received a sort of mozzarella-stick-shaped "tender," along with a side of their new buffalo dipping sauce, which tasted like congealed butter.

The Chicken Fry was bigger and less tasty than I thought. The Chicken Fry was no fun. The Chicken Fry reeked of shrunken sweaters and broken homes.

I was tempted to erase it from my mind altogether. However, mainly because I think I'm being funny, I will still occasionally screech out "CHICCCKKKENN FFFRRRIIEESSSS" in a Gene Simmons-shouting-out-"Hello, New Jersey!!" kind of way. Thereby keeping the memory alive.

Farts are fun to talk about

2008-12-08T14:58:00.000-08:00

An excerpt from the first ever Gmail chat with my new friend Angela:

Angela: my farts are poisonous. are yours?

me: haha

only if ive eaten pickles

which sucks because i love pickles!

Angela: michael says i need to get that checked.

me: hahaha

Angela: mmm pickle farts.

fickle pickle farts

me: tickle pickle farts

so yours are silent but deadly?

Angela: yes indeed. SBD.

me: ha!

you cant help it!

yeah when you hold it in, it just comes back stronger Angela: and hotter!

wow. our first gchat is so sweet.

me: i know

i think its a start to a beautiful friendship

My favorite part about sandwiches are...

2008-12-05T11:04:00.000-08:00

. . . the whole sandwich!

Sandwiches are my favorite food.

I especially like real Jew-ey sandwiches like corned beef on rye with deli mustard.

Or lox and bagels (I don't know if that would be considered a sandwich, but it would be considered delicious).

Or capers (not actually a sandwich but they taste really good on sandwiches).

Or Gus's in San Luis Obispo (Best. Sandwich. Place. EVER.).

Or Newsradio (Good television show to watch while eating sandwiches).

Update: I found this flicker set called Campaign for a Sensible Sandwich. Sandwiches should not be too big or difficult to eat. These sandwiches aren't sensible!

http://flickr.com/groups/sensible-sandwich/

I Heart the Birthday Boys

2008-12-04T11:35:00.000-08:00

See more funny videos at Funny or Die

Jennie Peeeee (Get it!?)

2008-12-03T11:04:00.000-08:00

You know how when you open up a pea pod to eat some delicious plump peas, there is always one pea that is very small, flat and shriveled up? That is the size of my bladder. I have to pee a lot. Like A LOT. It would be exaggerating to say that I pee rainbows and gold (leprechaun stuff), but it would not be exaggerating to say that I pee almost every hour. I don't like to tell people about my small bladder because it makes me feel embarrassed. I feel that there is something wrong with my insides and then I get all mopey.

My job is one of the most important jobs ever to have existed in the universe. I call it "Phone Answerer". It is so important, that when I am not at my desk to answer the phone, someone in the office dies. Not a peaceful, relaxing death like Oscar Wilde's where the dying person makes a very snarky comment about interior decoration, but a painful, throw-up and convulsions death like Socrates's.

So whenever I go to the bathroom, I have to let my co-worker know so that she can "cover the phones" for me. But because I am embarrassed to tell her about my small bladder, and judging from the eye rolling and sigh she gives me every time I say "I'm running to the bathroom", I think she must be thinking the following:

1) That girl does a lot of blow.
2) That girl does a lot of private bathroom crying.
3) That girl definitely does not have a small bladder that makes her need to pee a lot because that would be RIDICULOUS.

I went home for Thanksgiving and this is what happened.

2008-12-01T16:26:00.000-08:00

- My brother dared me to eat a dog treat. (And by dared, I mean told me not to eat a dog treat):

Brother: "Hey Jen, check out these dog treats that mom bought. The only ingredient is 100% freeze dried cheese".
Me: "Weird. So why can't people eat them too?"
Brother: "I guess they can".
Me: "I'm going to eat one"
Brother: "Gross, don't eat one"
Me (crunching into freeze dried cheese dog treat that tastes less like cheese and more like if you made soap out of Styrofoam and then dipped it in Velveeta): "This is gross"

Then I gave about 25 to the dog. I like the sound of animals crunching on things. It's peaceful.

- Watched about 9 hours of Project Runway and Real Housewives of Atlanta while eating all the leftover desserts from the night before.
Conclusion: Watching 9 hours of TV and eating all the leftover desserts makes my stomach feel funny. Also, Michael Kors looks like a redneck cartoon character when you look at him upside down.

- I jokingly told my friends girlfriend that she was a witch. To be fair, she did fall asleep at the table with her eyes open. Regardless, she did not find me amusing.

- I attended a bridal shower. My mom's friend (drunk on Blood Orange Mimosas and a false sense of importance) stupidly asked me if there would be a wedding shower in my near future. I (drunk on Blood Orange Mimosas and pure boredom) breezily responded, "Oh, no thank you" and flipped my hair back. She did not find me amusing.

- Farting dogs.

Just a heads up

2008-11-25T09:04:00.000-08:00

I'm seeing my grandparents for dinner tonight and have already decided that I am going to lie to them all night long. I'm going to lie like I have never lied before.

There will have been auditions for popular situation comedies like Two and a Half Men.

There will be a tall Jewish boyfriend who is getting his masters at UCLA in Environmental Engineering. Funny story: we met through a mutual friend who thought we would NEVER get along. Turns out we both enjoy Tapas restaurants and Zap Mama.

I will FINALLY be getting paid for doing improv.

My newly found love of cooking (especially kugel and brisket) will be second only to my love for volunteering with hospice and visiting the old, sick and dying (especially the really fucked-up-from-cancer ones).

I figure lying will go down smoother for everyone involved. My grandfather will have a vodka martini and talk about Obama. My grandmother will have Kahlua and tell me about the lecture series called "Brother Against Mishpacha: Jews in the Civil War" she attended at the community center and how the new rabbi at the synagogue is working out just fine. I'll tell them I saw Spring Awakening at the Ahmanson and it was quite racy and inappropriate but the songs were pretty.

They'll go home feeling full and pleased with themselves, watch Are You Being Served on PBS and go to bed.

I'll go home, get stoned, watch The Shield on Netflix and fart on the cat.

Shut up Jennie

2008-11-24T10:00:00.000-08:00

At an Italian restaurant in Larchmont Village.

Me: Which soup do you recommend, the lentil or the minestrone?
Waitress (with a British accent and a herp on her lip): Umm, the minestrone.
Me: I'll have the lentil.
Friends at table: (apologetically laugh)
Me: Wait...oh no..no...I didn't choose the lentil because you recommended the minestrone...I trust your judgement...I do...I didn't mean to be rude...I just had already wanted the lentil and then at the last minute when you were taking the order I thought I would ask you your opinion but then ultimately decided to go with my first instinct which was the lentil...I never even really wanted the minestrone...I don't even know why I asked you..sorry..I'm sorry...I shouldn't even be bothering you...I should just order what I want in the first place...
Me: (out loud) Shut up Jennie.

Later. At Sprinkles (correction: CRUMBS. I got my fancy cupcake places mixed up) Cupcakes in Larchmont Village.
Me: Is there anything cool about the Oreo cupcake?
Guy behind the counter: Umm...what do...? Um, it has a fudge center.
Me: Yeah..that's what I meant...like some of the cupcakes have a surprise center with like fudge or peanut butter or jam or something...I mean the cupcake is already "cool", I mean it's a cupcake! I just wanted to know what was special about the Oreo one, but now I'm thinking I want the Black Forest one...so is there anything cool about that one?
Me: (in my head, then out loud) Shut up Jennie

When I was 12, I was really into The Animaniacs and floral cotton pants.

2008-11-20T12:43:00.000-08:00

This girl is cooler than I will ever be and she is only 12. She's like the real life Jenny from Gossip Girl. Someone find her and bring her to me.

http://tavi-thenewgirlintown.blogspot.com/

Also, I consider puzzles a fun extra-curricular activity. No joke.

2008-11-19T15:13:00.000-08:00

I just watched this. Without sound. At my desk at work.

I teared up.

Look for me in the Lladro Figurine section of Macy's. I'm the one wearing the cashmere Talbots sweater with a copy of "7 People You Will Meet In Heaven" in the purse that my sister gave me when I reached my goal weight.

Drop It Like It's Hoff

2008-11-19T11:13:00.000-08:00

My friend recently told me she had a "very hot" sex dream with celebrity Orlando Bloom. Orlando Bloom is her favorite celebrity and she often has "very hot" sex dreams involving him.

Discussing this made me think about my "very hot" celebrity sex dreams. I've only had two that I can remember. Maybe the ones I can't remember involved sexy things like masquerade balls or moonlit beaches, but these do not:

(These are actual real dreams that I really actually had)

- David Hasselhoff and I are a married couple living in the suburbs. We have a couple of kids who play soccer and I am a stay at home mom. Unfortunately, the "fire" or "romance" has gone out of our marriage and I feel that it is my duty to bring it back so that we don't get divorced like so many of our fellow suburbanite couple friends have recently done. I decide to go to a lingerie store with my jolly friend Judy to try and spice up our time in the bedroom. I have never bought sexy lingerie (I think I'm a real prude) so I am very nervous but Judy convinces me this will be a very good thing. I suspect she has recently watched an episode of Oprah on this very topic. I buy the lingerie, go home, set the mood in the bedroom (this probably involved turning down the floral bed sheets and lighting the new Glade scented oil candle I just bought) and wait for the Hoff to return home. When he enters the bedroom, I awkwardly display my lingerie and we have awkward, quick, missonary sex. I don't think it was pleasant for anyone involved and my feeling at the end of the dream is that we will end up staying together for the sake of the children. Then I wake up.

-I am Snoop Dogg's girlfriend. We're in a truck outside of his pot dealers house in a very sketchy part of LA. Enough said. I woke up feeling gross.

Jesus Cat

2008-11-17T15:43:00.000-08:00

This is my roommate's cat. Her name is Jesus. Because my roommate and I are best friends and enmeshed in each others lives to the point of pretty much being married without the sex part, we call her "our cat". I consider myself her cat Aunt. Or "Cant". Jesus is pretty fat and lazy (in a good way).

Here are three things I like to do with her:

1) Snuggle. Jesus is not the type of cat to say no to a snuggle session. The only times she does not want to snuggle are when she is very angry at you for poking her (see below), or not letting her go outside. Jesus is an indoor cat and there are many dangers that lie in the out of doors for indoor cats (i.e. fast cars, other cats and stupid hipster catnapping neighbors). I try to tell her that indoor activities like watching reruns of "Everybody Loves Raymond" and making delicious turkey sandwiches can also be fun, but she does not want to listen. She just wants to lie in the outside dirt and blink her eyes at the sun.

2) Poke. Sometimes, while she is lying comfortably in her soft cat bed, it's fun to poke Jesus in her fat paunchy stomach with various objects (pens, mail, your finger). If you do this for a long enough time, she will get very angry and bite/scratch/hiss at you. When she retaliates in this way, even though I was the one who provoked her, I get very angry and yell at her "You suck!". Then I poke her again for good measure and to let her know who's boss. A psychologist might say that we have a "dysfunctional relationship".

(Trying to snuggle after a poking session as a way of apologizing for all the poking will usually not work).

3) Dutch Oven. This involves sitting next to or on top of Jesus, putting a blanket over the both of us and farting. She never moves, which makes me think she likes the smell of fart.

Question of the Day

2008-11-17T09:38:00.000-08:00

Why do race horses need little men (jockeys) to ride on them during races? Why can't the horses just run around the track by themselves? I think it might be more fun for the horses if they were allowed to do it on their own.

Mrs. Pillyworth

2008-11-14T10:22:00.000-08:00

Mrs. Pillyworth the bag lady was all out of sorts. Under the cover of night, ruthless thieves had pillaged her park bench on Wackadoo Boulevard and stolen her most prized possession. “Bloody hell.” she bellowed softly to no one in particular whilst quietly relieving herself.

(You see, Mrs. Pillyworth suffers like that of any other ill-fated lady drowning her sorrows in the bottom of a bottle; from a sad case of the broken bladder and a touch of the crazy).

Mrs. Pillyworth was none too jazzed about this unfortunate situation. Grunting loudly, she busied herself tidying up the beer bottles and bits of string strewn about the grass that had fallen out of her shopping cart during the raid. Mrs. Pillyworth no more enjoyed a mystery than she favored a routine chicken broth enema, but at least a mystery involved interviews and clues.

Lying down amongst the wreckage, Mrs. Pillyworth rummaged through her pockets and brought out the last of the hot dog she had found outside of Morty’s PINBALL Arcade on Giddyup Drive. She ate the dog, and tossed the bun to her best friend; Rockefeller the Pigeon.

(You see, Mrs. Pillyworth had recently read a discarded book by one: Dr. Atkins. Mrs. Pillyworth figured she was not getting any younger and since bikini season was approaching, she thought it wise to heed the doctor’s sage advice.)

Suddenly recalling the pillaged prized possession , Mrs. Pillyworth began to weep uncontrollably.

(You see, this was no ordinary keepsake. One short year ago, Mrs. Pillyworth had a wild love affair with a chap by the name of Mr. Boddingsley who lived in a cardboard box on the north side of Gadzooks Avenue. Mr. Boddingsley’s defining features were his lack of pinky fingers, a nose like a manatee and a healthy obsession with T.S. Eliot. Oh, how Mrs. Pillyworth loved to pinch his nose and lovingly title it Alfred J. Prufrock! One sad spring day, Mr. Boddingsley mysteriously disappeared leaving only an envelope addressed to Mrs. Pillyworth at their favorite romantic rendezvous; the dumpster of the nearest Sizzler on Pina Colada Circle. Inside the envelope lay one shiny key attached to a keychain inscribed with the words: “one tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor”. From that day forward, Mrs. Pillyworth would cling furtively to that key hoping to one day unlock its secret)

Tired, wet and lovesick, Mrs. Pillyworth hoisted herself off the ground and grudgingly set out across the park in search of her first possible eyewitness of the raid: Madam LaTigre who owned the local titty bar on Foofoo Way, and whose dark brown eyes could often see the misdeeds of others…

Some words and phrases that, if said, will make me think you are a very smart person

2008-11-13T16:25:00.000-08:00

- Albeit
- By and large
- Obsequious
- Would you like some more duck l'orange?
- Hamburg is beautiful at this time of year.
- Meat packing district
- Some jellyfish do not have tentacles at all
- Arianna Huffington