get it?
that cupcake is gonna explode all over your face.
(comcast still sucks.)
2013, People
11 years ago
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
assignment 18:
hello there.
laura and kate just went coporate.
or at least we're gonna look it.
the assignment is to doodle--
and i mean doodle because the last thing i want to do is give one of us a complex about not being able to draw-
a logo for laura and kate will rock your face.
color it, but only if you want to.
take a picture of it.
post it.
this is a simple one, so this sunday. midnight.
punishment: give yourself HIV. just kidding. and i apologize for being in such poor taste. the punishment is to do something, anything in support of your most hated corporation. so if you hate comcast (i do,) you have to sit on the phone until you reach a comcast operative and tell them how much you love their service. document it. facerawk.
punishment.
i don't usually like to be the one that has to go first.
but i do like to take responsibility for my actions: and i did not complete the assigment on time, mostly for lack of pre-planning for a memorial day weekend out of town, and for that i must pay.
enough excuses.
on with the pain.
for those of you too lazy to read back to the punishment for the assignment, i have to publish an entry from my childhood diary.
allow me to say that while cracking open my journal from freshman year i was half hoping to find some nuggets of proustian wisdom, or at least some pissed off lines poetry raw enough to write a punk rock song about. there is this real cool event called mortified where people read aloud writing from their younger years and it is often very telling, very hilarious, and very insightful. spoiler alert: i was just a dumbass fourteen year old with a decent vocabulary and NOTHING worth writing about.
some more background on the diary (to delay the inevitable entry itself.)
it is a black spiral bound volume with some woman's face on it from an italian fresco--i probably spent the entirety of that months allowance on it, and its DEFINITELY the most pretentious looking volume a teenager could find in Barnes and Noble. it has this gentle, yet profound reminder etched in the front with a number two pencil: "A LOT IS TWO WORDS." ladies and gentlemen, advice (if that's what it was meant to be) to live by.
oh, and i will spare you the entry which i wrote while procrasting on a hamlet paper. i replaced all the words "has" and "is" with "hath." i'm not kidding.
and another one where i honest to god reference "acid jazz." no lie.
this is an entry that i taped into the journal. i have no idea why. it sounds like i am sneaking out of the house that night though i have no recollection of ever doing something like that successfully. i mostly stayed inside and watched MTV and the knife show on QVC. i date it at the very end: july 17.
i try to keep the original punctuation, capitalization, and line breaks as best as possible to the original, you know, because its all intentional. my comments in brackets. {i had to.}
"so far i have an empty downstairs talking to me in creepy house-speak *shhhh* shut the hell up at Bed Time *oh* {Right here there is a LOOOOng space} but {Another LOOOOng space}
{New paragraph} I'm not tired instead I'm raging in fact but the outside is even more oppresive what with the neighbors burgler lights & the shadows left by the street lamps & the pourous lava rocks awaiting my nervous feet clutching the window sill my hands splayed on the screenless hole in the wall (to freedom to nowhere) but i stay & stew because now the malaise has set in & I am active enough only to terrorize my freshest set of misquito bites & take a peek every so often at the unlit candle* I left outside to let my visitor know I am here-- the visit which was supposed to arrive an hour ago (give or take a few exstatic moments of course.) my itchy little welts mock me as they grow bigger and my train of thought chugs smaller & smaller at each rotation.
...& goddamn my ankle itches why can't i secrete calamine lotion from my pores like people who secret calamine from their pores can...
{At this point i let loose on what's really going on...she's upset about a boy! suprise!}
I'll go to Great America & I'll cry & no one will notice & that's good that's great in fact 'cause crying is fucking stupid & i never asked to be loved even though i probably wanted to be but it's no fun 'cause you're on your tippy toes just to keep it (That's not a metaphor. I'm pretty sure the boy i'm talking about was really tall.) & i hope i fall off the damn roller coaster {yeah--swears!} & wave as i plummet to my death after all. My hands are too small for me to be beautiful anyway. {What?}
{Later i write the first stanza to the following poem. Bear in mind that it is highly unlikely i had passed second base at this point in time. }
How far we income (sic.)
For a cheap feel and a pulse tone
I hate that i want you to
Figure 8 my back
I hate that you could be someone
Else when you do that
(editors note:WHAAAAAAAAT?)
AND THAT'S ALL SHE WROTE.
YOU GUYS ARE WELCOME.
NEXT TIME I'LL GET THIS THING IN ON TIME.
BYE!
*(editors note from the future back to the past in the form of advice: consider that an UNLIT candle is maybe the least effective beacon system one could fashion for a night heist, and probably the reason they never showed up. you dumbass.)
but i do like to take responsibility for my actions: and i did not complete the assigment on time, mostly for lack of pre-planning for a memorial day weekend out of town, and for that i must pay.
enough excuses.
on with the pain.
for those of you too lazy to read back to the punishment for the assignment, i have to publish an entry from my childhood diary.
allow me to say that while cracking open my journal from freshman year i was half hoping to find some nuggets of proustian wisdom, or at least some pissed off lines poetry raw enough to write a punk rock song about. there is this real cool event called mortified where people read aloud writing from their younger years and it is often very telling, very hilarious, and very insightful. spoiler alert: i was just a dumbass fourteen year old with a decent vocabulary and NOTHING worth writing about.
some more background on the diary (to delay the inevitable entry itself.)
it is a black spiral bound volume with some woman's face on it from an italian fresco--i probably spent the entirety of that months allowance on it, and its DEFINITELY the most pretentious looking volume a teenager could find in Barnes and Noble. it has this gentle, yet profound reminder etched in the front with a number two pencil: "A LOT IS TWO WORDS." ladies and gentlemen, advice (if that's what it was meant to be) to live by.
oh, and i will spare you the entry which i wrote while procrasting on a hamlet paper. i replaced all the words "has" and "is" with "hath." i'm not kidding.
and another one where i honest to god reference "acid jazz." no lie.
this is an entry that i taped into the journal. i have no idea why. it sounds like i am sneaking out of the house that night though i have no recollection of ever doing something like that successfully. i mostly stayed inside and watched MTV and the knife show on QVC. i date it at the very end: july 17.
i try to keep the original punctuation, capitalization, and line breaks as best as possible to the original, you know, because its all intentional. my comments in brackets. {i had to.}
"so far i have an empty downstairs talking to me in creepy house-speak *shhhh* shut the hell up at Bed Time *oh* {Right here there is a LOOOOng space} but {Another LOOOOng space}
{New paragraph} I'm not tired instead I'm raging in fact but the outside is even more oppresive what with the neighbors burgler lights & the shadows left by the street lamps & the pourous lava rocks awaiting my nervous feet clutching the window sill my hands splayed on the screenless hole in the wall (to freedom to nowhere) but i stay & stew because now the malaise has set in & I am active enough only to terrorize my freshest set of misquito bites & take a peek every so often at the unlit candle* I left outside to let my visitor know I am here-- the visit which was supposed to arrive an hour ago (give or take a few exstatic moments of course.) my itchy little welts mock me as they grow bigger and my train of thought chugs smaller & smaller at each rotation.
...& goddamn my ankle itches why can't i secrete calamine lotion from my pores like people who secret calamine from their pores can...
{At this point i let loose on what's really going on...she's upset about a boy! suprise!}
I'll go to Great America & I'll cry & no one will notice & that's good that's great in fact 'cause crying is fucking stupid & i never asked to be loved even though i probably wanted to be but it's no fun 'cause you're on your tippy toes just to keep it (That's not a metaphor. I'm pretty sure the boy i'm talking about was really tall.) & i hope i fall off the damn roller coaster {yeah--swears!} & wave as i plummet to my death after all. My hands are too small for me to be beautiful anyway. {What?}
{Later i write the first stanza to the following poem. Bear in mind that it is highly unlikely i had passed second base at this point in time. }
How far we income (sic.)
For a cheap feel and a pulse tone
I hate that i want you to
Figure 8 my back
I hate that you could be someone
Else when you do that
(editors note:WHAAAAAAAAT?)
AND THAT'S ALL SHE WROTE.
YOU GUYS ARE WELCOME.
NEXT TIME I'LL GET THIS THING IN ON TIME.
BYE!
*(editors note from the future back to the past in the form of advice: consider that an UNLIT candle is maybe the least effective beacon system one could fashion for a night heist, and probably the reason they never showed up. you dumbass.)
Friday, May 22, 2009
Assignment 17 Complete: I present to you Kate's Bitcheeeeeeeeeeeees
Many thanks to my friends at work!
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Assignment 17: I am 16 going on 17
There were 7 Von Trapp children in "The Sound of Music". I know because I started to ask Google the question, it filled the second half of the question in for me, and BOOM, now I have my answer.
Pertinence? Read on.
The assignment: Record 7 people you know/are friends with/date/cheat on with the person you are dating marching forward and stating their name and relationship to you as the Von Trapps had to do when the Captain blew his whistle. Oh yeah, also figure out what your call would be, since neither of us own a sea-whistle (or do you Laura?!).
Clarification: The seven people do not all have to be together. You can do them at different times in different locations.
Goal: We will be people persons. We will be directors.
Punishment: Post a diary entry from your childhood.
Deadline: I am not sure how to set this deadline... this will either be a really quick task or a really long one. Let's aim for Sunday March 24. Subject to change if either party feels this is unfair.
Q: How do you solve a problem like Maria!?! A: Take away her right to vote and pay her less than what her male counterpart makes.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
assignment sweet 16 complete
just so everyone knows.
this blog entry proves to me that i am part peter pan, part hideous.
and YES that is LIPSTICK you see all over my teeth.
and NO i did not do that on purpose.
ENJOY,
laura.
this blog entry proves to me that i am part peter pan, part hideous.
and YES that is LIPSTICK you see all over my teeth.
and NO i did not do that on purpose.
ENJOY,
laura.
Assignment Six Sweeteen: Girly Movie
My mother gives me movies for different holidays. Not movies she has seen, but movies that she thinks look "cute". "I heard it was cute". - Lorraine Mulligan on "Shallow Hal"
"Looked really cute".- Lorraine Mulligan re: Christmas gift of "Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium".
I needed to do something girly for this, our 16th assignment, so I decided it might be a perfect time to finally watch one of those "cute" movies. I landed on "Must Love Dogs" which seemed the right combo of cute and girly and tolerable. John Cusack is in it after all... and I think it's funny how fat he has gotten.
Girly Movie: A journey in photographs:
Hey movie piggy, don't eat ice cream... eat low fat yogurt! Girly!
HOW ZANY! These people just broke into song at the family dinner table. I've never seen that before! GIRLY!
Don't cry, Kate, Diane Lane is just acting. That monologue she gave about her husband who stopped loving her isn't real. Totally moving, though, huh? That's something you can understand as a woman, little one... sometimes men will stop loving you and it will make you extra sad. GIRLY!
YAAAAAAY! John Cusack and Diane, after a series of unfortunate misunderstandings, DO get together. But not before she gets on a crew boat and rows out to the lake where he is rowing and jumps off and swims to him. Like in real life! Girly!
Unseen: After movie I had a pillow fight in my panties.
Monday, May 4, 2009
assignment sweet 16!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
america, you're welcome.
you're gonna get a laura and kate's debutante ball about 10-12 years late.
assignment:
do something unabashedly girly. document it however you see fit. cover your mouth and go "tee-hee."
deadline: next wednesday at midnight, but if you do it early you get extra chick points.
punishment: spend 5 minutes watching wwf clips on the internet. while your webcam watches you.
you're gonna get a laura and kate's debutante ball about 10-12 years late.
assignment:
do something unabashedly girly. document it however you see fit. cover your mouth and go "tee-hee."
deadline: next wednesday at midnight, but if you do it early you get extra chick points.
punishment: spend 5 minutes watching wwf clips on the internet. while your webcam watches you.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Assignment 15: En fuego
Dear Metabolism-
The letter you hold in your hand is to inform you that you are being let go. This should come as no surprise seeing as how you seemingly have quit your job anyway. Let's be clear, though- you are fired, you did not quit. I need the satisfaction of saying so.
I am required by law to site reasons as to why you are being fired. Though you have been with the company 27 years (and I really do appreaciate the work you did in the early years), you have failed to do your job in the past two years- most notably this year. I have done everything imaginable to help you. I brought in High Fiber cereal to assist you in the mornings- nothing. I brought in herb salad with RAW BROCCOLI in the afternoons to help you complete your duties- nothing. Do you think that bringing them in has brought me pleasure? Nay sir, it has not. It seems that you and Running don't even work well together anymore. I even fired Sweets for all of lent to see if that perhaps would improve productivity. But the company is still an unwavering 5 pounds over budget, and you are doing nothing to help solve the problem. I can't bring in anymore help at this point. I mean RAW BROCCOLI EVERY DAY, what the fuck have you been DOING, man!?!?
Back in the day I might not have cared if we were 5 pounds over budget, but things have changed. The company changed locations to Los Angeles 3.5 years ago, and you know that the demands of an LA business far outweigh (no pun intended) the demands of a Chicago business. So the only things that can change this decision of mine is if we were to relocate back to Chicago or if Brain could convince me to let it go. But Brain has been preoccupied with the changes over in the Hormones department (27 years seems to have been that department's limit in terms of working effectively), so I doubt Brain is going to be able to get together a compelling Power Point as to why you should stay. And for the record- no one is safe. Menses got fired over at Laura Grey and Co. earlier this week. I have half a mind to do the same, but I have to wait and see if my new employee YAZ (started just yesterday) will be able to reign in the Hormone department as promised. $59.14 for that Yaz.... Reclipsen had been $10. This company is doomed.
Metabolism, I feel sad to let you go. We had some good years. Remember in years 14-18 how we would party with Doritos and Mountain Dew on a daily basis and we could still get our work done and no one was the wiser? Those were the glory days before we even had to hire Diet Coke and Light Yoplait. I wish we could go back... I miss HamburgerWheneverYouWant.
Thanks for the memories, Metabolism. I wish you well as you head into this forced retirement. Sorry to cut this short, I need to prepare Salad and Shredded Carrots for today's work.
Regretfully,
Kate E. Mulligan CEO of Kate Mulligan's Body
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