St. Patty's O'Seven

Well will ya look at this here now. Another St. Patty's has come and gone and I'm still kickin'! What are the chances!?

I can't for the life of me remember what I did on St. Patrick's day last year. And I don't think it's because I drank too much. So this year I decided to do it up big Glenny Style (weird) and go all out. I tried to start drinking early but the closest I got to "early" was meeting Liz and Jeff at King's Head Tavern at 6pm. Bad, bad idea. I walked from my house over and as I neared the pub it just felt douchier and douchier and by the time I hit the KH we were in full-blown Fresh mode. I ducked in for a second to say hi to Ned (the 'tender for your bender) but he was so crazed his response to "how's it going!?" was "Sam Adams!?" Ah sir you know me well. Liz and Jeff showed up 1/2 way through my first beer much to my relief. It wasn't so much that I was alone just the fact that NO ONE ELSE WAS. Kind of an odd feeling. We stood and drank another round of beers and made fun of THE drunkest guy I've ever seen (standing).



(Side Note: I'm watching The Riches right now on FX and Minnie Driver just went to the freezer to get ice cream which turns out to be where they're hiding a bunch of money and I'm all dude I would never hide my money in an ice cream carton in the freezer because that's the FIRST THING I'd reach for if I was looking in the freezer! But then she takes it out and buries the money in the back yard so maybe she had the same idea...)

Anyway, doesn't that dude look like (as Jeff pointed out) one of those gangster dudes from the old Warner Bros cartoons?

The rest of the night was, as you can imagine, full of booze, songs, and of course the obligatory green wig.


I tooted.

I bought that wig a while ago to be a part of an alien band as part of the ucb show Sith In The City. I know the show had a lot of Star Wars references in it and that I cut our song off two verses too early. Eliza wrote this awesome song about Anakin Skywalker - so awesome in fact that I still remember how it goes in my head. I am humming it right now.

ANYWAY...

I wore that wig and the night was a hit. There's something about donning a wig that makes you feel mysterious. Alias had nothing on me that night. And so because of that I decided that this year I want all of my friends attending my birthday party to wear wigs. Imagine the fun! Imagine the pictures! Oh it will be a night to remember (and it will also be a night held at Planet Rose Karaoke so it will pretty much be exactly like St. Patty's. Except it will be my birthday!!)

At one point in the night a super cute guy sat next to Liz at the bar. We made eyes and were all "hi. oh hi. hehe oh hi." and Carrie was like "that guy is HOT!" So, being the Alias sleuth that I was that night, I timed my bathroom break to coincide with his and ended up in line behind him. I said hey and he turned around and we started talking. Bold moves for a bold wig, guys. Turns out his name is...wait you'll never guess. In a million years will you never guess what his name was. I'll give you a clue. It's my name without the last three letters. Yeah...Glen. So right off we see that this romance was doomed, do we not? The second sign was him saying to me OVER AND OVER, "you are so beautiful! where did you come from! you are so amazing! I want to take you home and make a suit out of your skin!!" I mean I enjoy compliments as much as the next girl but it started to feel like this desperate ploy to get me home so he could, as Liz put it, "put the lotion in the basket." I could just see this dude tucking his lil man between his legs and doing a dance to the crying game for me.

But, you know how I roll guys, I like attention and he was giving me attention and for a while it was ok. But then he started in with the putting his arm around me and I'd had just about enough so I told him to beat it. Nicely. Which for me is "beat it, shorty."

Luckily for us my esteemed colleague Carrie snapped these pictures of me singing "One Moment In Time." Can we please check out the CREEP FACTOR HERE.


"I'm sorry my friendship OFFENDS YOU."

AHH! Just looking at that picture makes me scream a little bit! Ahhh! I feel like he's going to come to life from the picture and stab me in my ample bosom! Here, let's take a closer look.



AHHH!!! Get it away! GET IT AWAY!! Make it better, SS!



Whenever I was scared when I was little I'd think of Strawberry Shortcake. Oh what like you're so normal?!

Anyway, the night was amazing and fun and Eliza closed the place down with me when we busted out our show-stopper Suddenly Seymour and then I peaced the eff out, ate two pieces of pizza and cabbed it home.

St. Patrick's Day 2007? SUCCESS

Love,

Glennis

Wanted: Personal Photographer

As anyone who knows me can attest I enjoy having my picture taken. I enjoy it so much in fact that Carrie was able to delete a very incriminating photo of herself off my camera just by telling me to pose while she "figured my camera out." Sneaky bastard! I specifically enjoy taking pictures of myself because after all who can capture a picture better than the very subject of that picture? Well that's what I've always thought. But now here we are, 7,000+ pictures into my flickr account and I'm growing a bit weary of the self portraits.

First of all you can always see the upper portion of my arm and it's never really all that flattering is it?


It is in fact an arm and not some random leg that found its way into the picture.

Second all my self-portraits are taken from and arms-length away therefore never showing my darling hips, delectable knees or perfect little feet.


A rare glimpse.

Third there are no candid moments. Even when I try to take a completely spontaneous photo there's always a little part of me posing it up.


Oh! You caught me off guard!

Fourth I believe that with a photographer other than myself there might actually be some shots of other people included. And I'd like that, believe it or not.

[Insert picture of someone other than myself here...once I have one.]

Therefore I, Glennis McMurray, am seeking an amazing photographer to follow me around to all major events in my life documenting each and every moment. These events will include (but are not limited to) birthdays, friends birthdays, shows, Friday night drinking, Saturday night drinking, Sunday morning sleep ins, etc. I will pay you in delicate kisses upon your cheek, beer and the occassional under the shirt boob touch. And yes, ladies, I'm talking to you too. You will be responsible for not only capturing adorable moments but making sure no incriminating moments are caught on camera. (Vomiting, making out with some random dude, vomiting while making out with some random dude...)

I must request you be on call for me 24 hours a day as I live a very sporadic life. Who knows when a pal might call me up for a drink? I'll need you to be there, camera in hand, before I get drunk and unattractive.

No experience necessary.

Send photos (of me) that you have taken (of me) to glennislovesglennis[at]gmail[dot]com.

My birthday is coming up which will provide a hefty night of photography for you. You might want to look into an assistant.

Thank you and I look forward to working with one of you!

Love,

Glennis

Pray For Me

Here is a picture my wonderful lovah Brandon took of my appearance on Chain Reaction. I call this "Praying For The Poop To Pass."



I'm not 100% sure but I think this might be my least flattering angle.

Love,

Glennis

Perfecto Majecto!

I keep writing and re-writing this post and it's yaaaaawnsville. Who wants to read "we landed at an airport and took a car to our hotel." I mean of course you did tardo!

So here I'll highlight the most hilarious/wonderful parts of our trip to Playa del Carmen, Mexico.

TEQUILA BARREL

This bar that we happened upon while wandering down Cinqueta Lane (or whatever it was called) turned out to be our best friend the whole trip. First of all they had karaoke. KARAOKE! Yes people this means I've now done karaoke on every major trip I've taken. In London girls danced around my ex while he sang Pink Floyd. In San Francisco my rendition of "Suddenly Seymour" with Eliza brought a woman to tears. And in Mexico, well let's just say the audience was mucho entertained-o.


Turn Around, Bright Eyes

Carrie and I made friends with the karaoke DJ the night before (as is our way) and when we walked in he said in the mic, to the waiter Armando (who, might I add, was maybe the hottest person EVER – pictures of his abs coming up), "I know those ladies… give them shots!" I had been drinking vodka all night but far be it for me to turn down a free shot even if it is the devils juice: tequila. (We were at Tequila Barrel. What did you think they'd give us?)

The final night of our trip was the greatest at TB. Throughout our stay there we kept running into a gal on her own named Summer and she's an integral part of the remainder of this section so I'll combine the two.


As Bananas As She Looks

Summer was in Playa for a wedding. We met her the first night there (well Carrie met her as I went to the bathroom) at the only place people really hung out, The Blue Parrot ( i.e. the bane of my existence in Mexico). We start talking to her, find out she's from Arizona and is there for a wedding with "a bunch of married girls who never want to go out" so she's been left to her own devices. We talk a few minutes more when she says, with a twinkle in her eye, "I'm gonna make a round." She leaves us to go check out the man-meat there and within 10 minutes she runs back saying "There are boys over here and they want you to come over." A little shocked, Carrie and I follow Summer over to a table of boys who might have just gotten out of college. They were nice enough, a little Summery themselves (our new term for douchebags - Summers Eve) but nice enough. Summer, the minx that she is, sees a dude we spotted earlier who we dubbed the "silver fox." She says to the table "whoever guesses his age closest I'll buy a shot." He was 45 years old and Carrie gave me her winning shot. We knew this girl was balls out but this was further displayed on our final night at the TB. Here, why don't I just show you.


One Tequila...


Two Tequila...


Three Tequila...


YOU GET THE IDEA-LA

Hot. HOT!

And yes, ladies. THAT'S Armando. Ye-ouch. Those ABS.

Ahem... sorry...where was I. We made friends with the owner of the TB as well. His name was Shane and he made sure we were well taken care of. So if you're ever in Playa, in the mood for a hot waiter, an awesome owner, karaoke and some free shots, head to Tequila Barrel. You too might end up like this:



(I'll be honest… I'm a little remorseful those body shot pictures aren't starring yours truly. I'm just gonna put that out there right now.)

TULUM & XEL-HA (pronounced Shil-Ha)

Carrie and I took a day trip on Friday to the beautiful Mayan ruins in Tulum. They were gorgeous and it was all very interesting, but again… not necessarily the stuff of blog posts. The highlights of the trip were that our tour guide was named Gerry Garcia and was maybe the sweetest, cutest man ever. Here's Gerry; grateful he's not dead...



Here's a ruin...


Those Mayans were tiny!

Here's a fucking HUGE LIZARD...



Here's Lance Armstrong's package made out of Tulum sand...



Here's me enjoying nature...


A leaf. Cheese.

After Tulum we were taken to Xel-ha which is a huge eco park. Now let's be honest here people. When you think eco park I doubt the first thing that comes to mind is Disney World but that's pretty much what this was. More tourists who all look the same with their fat little kids. Everywhere. The reason we got so psyched about Xel-ha was, naturally, because they had unlimited food and drinks. Alcoholic drinks! Oh yes my greedy mouth salivates at the thought of anything containing the word "unlimited." Seriously. If someone said "unlimited kicks in the vagina!" I'd probably go. I'm almost sure of it. Xel-ha, overall, was pretty underwhelming. We were super excited to try this rope swing out and after trekking all over the damn place looking for it (with our swimsuits on and our moist thighs making enough friction to start an eco-park fire) it turned out to be a rope hanging from a tree over some disgusting, stagnant water. The kind of water where you can see the bottom but wish you couldn't. And the grotto… boy that sounds cool huh? Same goddamn stagnant water. I had the feeling that if we set foot in that water our limbs would rot off. Just a gut feeling, call me crazy. So, dejected, we walked back to the beginning of the river so we could take a "lazy ride" down it on inner-tubes. Nothing says "lazy ride" like having to paddle your shit down 2 miles of river in a life vest. We had a waterproof camera (the pictures haven't been developed yet) and I'm pretty sure most of them are us paddling for dear life to finally get to the end of that damn river so we could use our remaining time to get shit-faced.

We decided to eat at an "International" restaurant there (buffets are still considered restaurants, right?) and the food was pretty good! Hey, this isn't so bad! Mmmm…let's order margaritas.



And a shot!

Oh man this is the life and it's AAAALL free. I'm starving, aren't you starving? Boy I sure…


SPLAT

A bird just shit in Carrie's coke. Oh man, hilarious! We're indoors (though it's not fully enclosed) and a bird shit in Carrie's coke! We laughed about that for a few seconds and then hesitantly went back to eating. Bird shit is gross but free food is free food, dudes. I was determined to eat my weight in...


SQUIRT

No fucking way! Another bird shit on our table! Right in front of Carrie! At this point we're laughing so hard TEARS are streaming down our faces. The families around us paid no attention to the two girls choking on free pasta at the sight of not one but TWO piles of bird shit on their table. I mean, come on. And I know this is going to come to a shock to anyone who knows me (and the little fat kid living inside me) but I lost my appetite. As did Carrie. We left PLATES FULL OF FOOD and UNFINISHED MARGARITAS ON OUR TABLE. Those dirty bitches ruined our meal!


The evil bitches.

But really it's ok because that was maybe the hardest I've laughed in months.

Everyone at Xel-Ha was super excited. Especially the handicapped...



And people who had to pee...



All in all the day was great. We drank some more at the bar and I took a few more pictures and we were back at our hotel by 6pm. Perfecto Majecto! Which leads me to...

MY SPANISH

It's terrible. I picked up a lot from Carrie and every time I tried to answer in Spanish she was so proud of me. We got hit on by literally every waiter at our hotel and on the beach and every time they came over to us they'd go directly to Carrie and start speaking Spanish. Tell me… what about her face says fluent? It was fine with me because when I did try to communicate with native Spanish speakers I ended up saying stuff like, "no hablo inglés." Which is actually kinda true. (and yes I literally said that once)

I got really good at saying "la cuenta," "no me gusta," and "hasta luego." Yeah, you're impressed.

ALCOHOL

Let's talk about the sad state alcohol in Mexico is in. To give you a little idea of how watered down the shit is - in one night Carrie and I drank 6 vodka on the rocks and 2 shots of tequila. And no, the night did not last two days. Add to that the fact that we had only a slice of pizza (amaaaazing pizza from Pizza Pazza – GO THERE) for dinner and los números just don't add up-os. If I drank that much in NY I would be dead. No seriously. I know you think I drink a lot but that would kill me.

BASTARDS! And those drinks weren't a few pesos either. That shit was expensive! I think most my money was spent on alcohol there and I didn't get drunk once. Well… once but it was at our hotel bar and that story is coming up.

One of the tequila shots we were given (by our bestie Shane, the owner of TB) was supposed to be done as follows:

1. Exhale all your air from your lungs

2. Take the shot

3. Bite the lime

4. Inhale through your nose

We did those steps exactly and when he said "do you feel it?!" I said yes. Guys, I lied. Just like Moralis in A Chorus Line… I felt nothing. I even dug right down to the bottom of my soul!

My advice for anyone thinking of traveling to Mexico? Buy a bottle of alcohol at the duty free shop at the airport and carry around a flask. Why we didn't do this I'll never know.

THE BLUE PARROT

As I said before, The Blue Parrot was the bane of my existence in Mexico. This was for a few reasons. 1. The drinks sucked, 2. They had two different types of mysic playing on two ends of the bar so if you sat in the middle (where the bar was) the two conflicting beats will literally drive you insane and 3. It's the same every night and NO ONE GOES ANYWHERE ELSE. They draw their patrons in by having swings surround the bar…


Wee! I'm gonna crack my head open!

…and presenting a fire show at 11pm nightly.


Flamers

It's all kitchy and fine but damn guys. It's just the same thing every night! Did that stop us from going? No it did not. We swung, we danced, we told people we were named Kate & Allie (no one got it) and I dumped buckets of sand out of my shoes. I think that's really all I have to say about you, Blue Parrot.

THE GUYS

Now there was an interesting mix of men there. It wasn't all backward baseball hat wearing Summers Eve dudes. There were Summers Eves from Europe too! For the most part we'd make small-talk with guys and give them our fake names. We told a bevy of men that we owned a talent agency for celebrity impersonators and that we were in Mexico scouting out a Shakira impersonator. (Carrie… you are brillz.) At one point we were talking to a suuuuuper drunk dude from New Jersey. We told him what we did and asked if he had any good impressions for us. He thought for a moment and I said, "why don't you do Matt Damon?" So he said, "Apples. Apples. How do you like these apples" while empting half the contents of his mouth on my face. Say it, don't spray it, bro. Then he did an impression of Al Pacino that we're pretty sure was Jack Nicholson from The Shining. What a lovely fellow with lovely and abundant spit glands! Then there were the 14 year olds who got super drunk and tried to grind with me and Carrie on the dance floor. They were all arms and googley eyes. Bless their tender, underage hearts. I like men but I am no cradle robber, dears.

Now let me just talk about the man my Mexico eyes got googley over. His name was Charlie. Sigh. Charlie is a great name. Charlie was a nice guy who didn't try to force his tongue down my throat and therein laid the mystery. He was there with about 17 guys on a bachelor party weekend so you'd assume they wanna get their groove on right? Not so. They spent most the time talking to each other. Except for Charlie (you should know I'm saying this "Chaaaaarliiiiee – sigh" each time) who flirted with me like it was his damn job! Because my hotel never delivered a message that he called I will probably never see sweet, dimpled Charlie again. But ladies – my heart will go on. And, as Carrie pointed out, we really dropped the ball on getting a picture of him so you'll just have to trust me that he was indeed hot, hot, hot and we would have had beautiful babies. Sigh.

THEFT

I was robbed in Mexico. Yes right from underneath my nose. Well… Carrie and I had been out all day and decided to head back to the hotel to sit at the bar, get a few ritas and check our email. I had spent a few bucks on little gifts for people including a $60 bracelet for my sister (it was so gorgeous and way more than I could afford) and a t-shirt for Liz. I hung the bag with my purchases in it on the back of my chair and I guess because I got a lil tipsy I left it there when I headed upstairs to pass out in our hotel room. When I woke up I realized what I'd done and went down to get it. It was gone. Sad Face! I asked the bartender if he'd seen it and a housekeeper and she looked around and found the bag. It had been ripped opon and the dirty thief had taken out the bracelet and the shirt (she was kind enough to leave me the shot glasses I purchased for a whopping $3 each). It's all so sad and unfortunate but made funny by one small fact. This was the t-shirt I bought Liz.



Someone stole a t-shirt that says "I Heart To Fart." I hope you are proud of yourself, sir or miss, whoever you are. I hope you are proud and I HOPE YOU REALLY DO HEART TO FART!!

Dick.

Our trip finally came to sad conclusion and as we headed back to the airport we saw two more great things. One, they have a sign to let you know your status once you arrive:



And two, they make sure you know what this trip was really about:



Shots. Lots and lots of shots.

And now, my lovely readers, that concludes my wonderful and awesome trip to Mexico. Let's do it again real soon, shall we?

Love,

Glennis

Blows-ville

Guess what blows? NOT BEING ABLE TO BLOG FROM WORK. Yeah. Seriously. I am most creative at work. It's such a dull environment my mind runs wild. When I'm home I'm distracted by things (shiny objects) and chores (watching myself for hours on end in the mirror) and cleaning (my plate. with my tongue.) and things of that sort.

Ok I swear I'm working on the Mexico post. The trip was so great.

But first, can we talk about my appearance on Chain Reaction tonight?



I didn't have internet access to tell y'all to watch so I'm sorry about that. It was on tonight at 10pm and let me just say I'm a TARDO. Yes we won (and looked hot) but every time something happened I'd giggle, jump up and down and touch my teammates on the shoulder. I was like a freakin chimp on there! And I forgot to mention this: they made me stand on a box. Did I say that before? Well who cares, it's so funny it's worth mentioning twice. I'm like Tom Cruise ovah hea! I'm a head taller than Liz and just as tall as Kate (and she was wearing boots) so they made me stand on a box...why? It was riiiidick.

And at the end (if you did see the show) during the speed round you'll notice we got three right away and then didn't get any more. Can I just say without sounding bitter here that the computers "broke" after we got three right in 15 seconds. I'm just saying. The computers broke. And we didn't win the extra $5,000. And we'd swept every round before that. Which had never been done before in Chain Reaction history. I'M JUST SAYING.

I spoke to Liz (my insanely hot and brilliant team mate) on the phone after and we both had hilarious things to say. Mine were among the "jesus christ I'm waaaay too excitable" and hers were mainly "I'm so serious!" so I think if we're to follow through on our plan (buy a brownstone in Brooklyn a la Kate & Allie) we'll have perfect, middle of the road babies. And speaking of chain reactions... Miss Kate Tellers (our other amazing, beautiful co-star who was fucking amazing at the bonus chains - she got all three!) has a sister named Alice and the cutest story is that when nurses said, "Oh like Kate & Allie...how cute!" when they were born her parents stared ahead blankly for they had no TV.

Now THAT'S an adorable chain.

What.
Will.
Glennis'.
Next.
Post.
Be
About?

(ding!)

Mexico, Bitches.

Love,

Glennis

Drunk-cation

Oh man you guys, I had a fun Saturday night. I mean it started out as a shitty night when 1st I realized I'd left my ATM card in a Greenpoint, Brooklyn ATM and then went to send a package to LA and spent $45. $45!!? To send a DVD!? Come on now. That is retar...

Uh ecuthe me. Mith? Ecuuthe meee.

What? Who is that? Who's there?


Down heeere! It ith me! The tequeeeela wurm.

Oh my goodness! Look at you! Well don't you look delicious. (licking lips)



Pleathe don't eat meee! Eeee!

Oh no no no... relax. It was just a joke... Mr... What's your name?



Themore.

The more?



Theeeeemoore. Themore. Themore!

Themore? Themore...what the...OH! Seymour! Like that song! "Lift up your head, wash off your mascara..."



"...here take my teeshoo wash that leepthtick away..."

Perfect! See? I would never eat someone who can sing Suddenly Seymour with me.


Weeell. I mean you are a big dreenker.

Um...sorry? I thought for a second you called me a big drinker while LIVING IN A BOTTLE OF TEQUILA. I mean... seriously.


I gueth you are riyeet. And leethen... I don't want to fiyeet weeth you. I came here to ask you a favor.

A favor? After you just called me a functioning alcoholic?


Eyeee never thaid functioning.

Watch it or I'll throw you and your home right out the window!


Don't you want to drink my home?

No!


Not even a leeeetle?

I mean maybe a li... NO! Ack... get out of here with that bullcrap!

(Bends down to pick up bottle)


Wayeet! Ayee am tho thorry. Pleaaathe don't throw me out the weendow. I need your help to get to Mexeeco to thee me madre!

Your... your mom? What's wrong with your mom?


She eeth tho thick. Tho tho thick.

Oh no! A sick mother? I mean I'll do what I can, Seymour. What can I do?


Thwallow me... but don't chew!

And take you to Mexico... in my stomach? That's... kinda gross.


Ayee underthtand. Ayyyyy my poor poor MADRE!

OK Ok ok... I will swallow you. Just... just don't tell anyone I did this. It's kinda weird. (sigh) Ok jump on out of that bottle.


Oh no you have to thwallow the entire bottle. I need tequilla to thurvive!

Wait what. Is this a trick? If I swallow that entire bottle of tequila I will be so super drun... ok it's a deal.


Wow. Glenneeth. That eeth tho thad. Tho tho thad.

NO. Stop it! I was just trying to help you! Don't you dare say I will do anything to drink!


Oh Glenneeth. Aye don't know what to thayee. It'th tho thad.

Oh my god, you know what? Scew you guys. Screw all of you.


All of uth?

Yeah. You, that Russian Rabbit who showed up last week telling me if I drank his vodka I'd... there... was no Russian Rabbit, was there.


No. No there wath noyeet.

Jesus. This really is sad isn't it. I really do have a problem. I just love alcohol so much! It just makes life so much better!

...

Hello?

...

Tequila worm?

...

Seymour? S...Suddenly Seymour?

(Looks down to find an empty bottle of tequila)

Oh not again. I'm going back to bed.

---

And on that note I bid you all a fond farewell for I leave tomorrow for MEXICO! That's right, 4 days 5 nights in Playa del Carmen with Player del Carrie Faverty. Expect a lot of crazy stories, as this is indeed going to be a drunk-cation, and wonderful pictures like this:



And when I get back, internet net or not, I will find a way to post from work. Hear me now.

Have a great week!

Love,

Glennis

Where Glennis At?

Sitting at your desk impatiently refreshing your screen waiting for a new post from me? No? Oh... that's just me who does that? Yeah. Ok well listen even though you haven't noticed, I've been gone. So let me tell you what happened. I won an award everyone. You should be pretty proud of me. Are you ready for this?

I was the top internet user in my entire firm!

Thank you! Thank you! I know. I hope you're proud, mama.

But here's where I'm confused. You'd think the top internet user in the firm would get MORE internet, right? It just makes sense. The top baker in the world would get MORE stuff to bake with. The top trader on wall street gets MORE money (A.B.S., BITCHES!), right? But they gave me LESS internet. In fact, I'm not allowed to get on the internet at all unless it's work related. Hollah! Raise the roof!! Soooooo.... proud.... of.... myself.

CRY

No more internet? Do you have any idea what that will do to me? Why, aside from music, internet is my 2nd boyfriend. Internet keeps me abreast on the Britney sitch. Internet lets me communicate with friends in far off places like 44th street and SoHo. Internet tells me what the meanings of big words my smart friends use are so I can get more ejukated. Internet! Internet! Where the fuck are you, Internet!?!

The internet is still on my computer. It sits there taunting me knowing I'm on the honor system. That the only thing between me and perezhilton.com is a report that will be run on my usage at the end of 6 months. My gmail notifier still sits at the lower right hand of my screen excitedly reporting whenever someone sends me an email...that I can not check.

I think the worst part of all this is that I used to moniter a site for young girls who were really depressed and I think me being online to talk to was the only thing that kept them from ending their lives. Sigh. Oh well. The world is over-populated anyway, right?*

So, I'll still find a way to blog. I love blogging. It keeps me creative and I think there might be two or three people out there who read this crap.

Have a great weekend everyone. And if you have internet then PLEASE don't take that shit for granted. Tell your internet you love it and... could you, just to keep the balance, every once in a while visit my favorite sites just so they don't feel lonely? You know what the sites are. You're a raging Glesbian.

Love,

Glen-ternet

*This is a lie to make my bosses feel bad if they read this. No girls will be cutting their own throats because I'm not online. I DON'T THINK.

Oscars Poop-cap

I guess since I'm at the forefront of pop culture I need to contribute my 2 cents to the poop-fest that was the Oscars. Here are the only two things I liked about it (aside from Ellen's awesome hosting. Hearts.)

Wait, I know I told everyone I hate award shows but when I got home Sunday after DDPP exhausted and sweaty and realized there was nothing else on tv, I had to watch them. Had to! Reading a book or cleaning my room was NOT AN OPTION!

The dancers behind that screen? WHAT?! So amazing. I know it's like, not really that amazing but every time they'd make a car or a gun I was like "GET OUT OF TOWN!" I'm also impressed by drawings and music.

Also, the sound effects choir. Ok that might have been the funniest thing I've ever seen in my life. Yes, it was amazing what they could do with their voices, but holy crap. First... their faces! I mean the expressions alone where enough to send me into a giggle fit for days. Then just the hilarity of them being on stage, at the Oscars, dressed to the 9s....making wind blowing and cork popping noises with their mouths.

So. Funny.

Am I alone on this?

Oh yeah and Jennifer Hudson, blah blah blah.

I seriously think award shows are the most retarded, boring, ridiculous pieces of crap ever. Oh except the MTV Movie awards. Love that shit.

In other news I did two shows Saturday night and killed. Killed, I say! Here's a picture from the second show.



And now, a question for your faces: will I ever tire of talking about myself?

A: Highly unlikely.

Have a great day!

Love,

Glennis

Chips!

This shit is TIGHT. Watch this video done by my pal (and fellow Obama-sessed gal) Carolyn in which she raps like a super star and in which I dance like a hoochie. I mean, seriously. Why would you not watch this.



Love,

Glennis

Man Bangs

Please click here to see me and my comedy life-partner, Eliza, talking about Gay Aiken. Rock it out on the DL (if ya know what I mean, dudes).

Love,

Glennis

Friday Movie Date

Get a baby sitter! Call your friends! It's time for Friday Movie Date!

Here's a fun movie done by my pal Luke Ward. Pay close attention to my voice dubbing in the beginning. I'm particularly proud of that. Just like I'd be proud if I had herpes.



Have a great day!

Love,

Glennis

You, Sirs, Are The Devil

HEAR ME NOW.

There is nothing (and I do mean nothing) that gets my blood boiling more than a fucking GYM EMPLOYEES. You, sirs, are the devil incarnate! And I never would have realized what jagoffs you guys were if it hadn't been for my boss asking me to get rates from different gyms in the area.

I had to call a few different NYSC locations in my neighborhood and without fail they would start by saying something like, "Great! You want to be a member?! Why don't you stop by and we'll show you around??" BITCHES IF I HAD TIME TO "STOP BY" THEN I WOULD HAVE STOPPED BY. I'd say, "I don't really have time, I just need to get the rates from you over the phone." They'd reply with some tard response like, "oh all our rates are pretty much the same."

...SO GIVE ME THE RATES!!!

I mean I don't understand why this is so effing difficult!!?!

Earlier today I called Equinox at 44th Street. The first thing I noticed was when I said, "membership" the receptionist got all excited and squeaky. Do even THEY get a cut of my sweet, hard-earned gym money?? She excitedly transferred me and a woman picked up. I said, "I need to get rates for your gym" knowing what would come next.

HER
Have you been to our gym before?

ME
Yes.

HER
This location?

ME
Yes.

HER
Ok why don't you stop by so we can talk about the rates?

ME
I can't really stop by. I just need to get them over the phone.

HER
Well we have a lot of different rates.

ME
...
...
AND WHAT ARE THOSE RATES.

HER
Why don't you stop by so we can talk about them?

ME
(getting angry)
So seriously you're not going to tell me, because I'll just go to another gym.

HER
Why don't you give me your email address and I'll email them to you.

ME
(faced with the prospects of either a) pissing off my boss, b) having to walk over there and meet with this chick face to face or c) give them a personal part of my life which they can use and abuse...)
Fine.

And so I gave her my email and guess what? She never emailed them to me.

CAN SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME WHAT'S GOING ON?

So, like I said, I didn't want to piss off my boss by not getting the rates so I put on my jacket and begrudgingly go across the street (in the rain!) to Equinox. I walk in the door and ask to speak to someone about membership. The same girl who answered the phone gets super excited and says, "ok! Just fill this out and someone will be right with you!" She hands me a piece of paper on which is written: Name, Phone Number, Address, Email, Corporation.

WHY. Why on EARTH would someone need all of that information from me just to talk to me about rates? Why? BECAUSE THEY ARE THE DEVIL.

I tell her that it's not for me, it's for my boss and she STILL makes me fill it out!! I swear to GOD I wanted to throw that clipboard at her stupid face. But I don't. I fill out the information and I use all fake stuff. My name is Kathy Emerson, my phone number won't work and I think my address is a Chinese restaurant. But, not thinking about it, I sign it with my actual signature (nice), but honestly do you think they're looking at my signature?

The woman comes out and she's actually very nice. I tell her I'm getting the rates for my boss and she gives me the information. And guess what? I'm gonna give them to you!

For just 44th Street it's $476 to start but wait! They are having a 50% off sale (but seriously she doesn't know how long this will last so you better hurry and sign up. do you want to sign up now? how about now? Now? NOW???) so now the initiation fee is $237. The monthly rate is $134 BUT WAIT!

THAT INCLUDES:

An Equifit Evaluation - $100 value
1 Personal Training Session - $75 value
Two one-week memberships - $490 value

HOW GENEROUS OF THEM!

The rate for ALL locations is $595 (also 50% off so it's now $297) and the monthly rate is $160 which also includes above.

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK YOOOOOOOOOOOOOU

Gyms can suck my nut and eat a bag of dicks. I belong to NYSC and I still think that gyms can chomp on a big old vagina.

You know what? I feel so much better now!

Have a great day!

Love,

Glennis