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Archive | January, 2012

A Quick Rant About Diets

31 Jan

Why is dieting a complete fucking lifestyle change for women, but for men it’s just another menial task…kind of like cleaning out the car. I guess it might be because women are emotional eaters. I know when I’ve had a bad day, the first thing I do when I get in the door is break out the Tostitos y con queso. Then I pour myself a goblet of wine and watch shitty reality shows about teen pregnancy that make my day look easy as cake. Men have a bad day then go home and take their frustration out by screaming shit about a 10 year old’s mother over Playstation 3. I can’t even say that playing video games would help kick the cravings, because sometimes when I’m pissed off or sad, I kill off all of my Sims in every single way possible. It doesn’t help though, because I’m mowing down pizza Goldfish while I’m drowning my entire virtual neighborhood, laughing like a fucking psycho. Guess it’s time to get my shit together. My boyfriend is always telling me I should start going to the gym with him. For someone who never really had to try to lose weight before, this sounds like a terrible idea to me. I’m an off/on gym go’er who’s off season is 90% of the year. Some people can get really into working out and are like “I fucking LOVE it! I get runner’s high and never want to leave that Stair Master!”. These are usually the same people who say that they have a craving for salad that is comparable to a crackhead feigning for a fat rock. Don’t get me wrong, salad is good. The  gym gives a me a fabulous feeling. I get it, okay? But calm the fuck down. Some people just aren’t that into it, and those who talk about their runner’s high sound smug.

The last time I stopped by the gym was um, awhile ago. And I guess I’m slightly traumatized because some asshole put the fucking Food Network on. There was a show on that was all about finding the best burger in the U.S. of A. WHO DOES THAT?! Can’t we watch Hoarder’s instead? I mean, any time you get a craving for a fat, juicy, delicious burger, I suggest you turn an episode of Hoarder’s on. Not only will you not want that burger anymore, but you’ll want to huff computer duster until you puke and/or die. Yummy.

I have to give myself a little bit of credit. I recently got a calorie counter app on my Iphone, so I count calories. My food diary looks something like this:

Breakfast: Slim Fast Shake, bottle of water

Snack: Grapes, crackers, 12 ounce sugar free Red Bull

Lunch: Greek salad, water

Dinner: Grilled chicken, baked potato, green beans

Snack: Bud Light can, Bud Light can, Bud Light can, Bud Light can, Junior Bacon Cheeseburger, 3 Oreos

….Not sure the late night “snacks” are all accounted for. Oops.

You know what my favorite task in the world is? THINKING about going to the gym. Yup. Just thinking about it. I just see myself on the elliptical, with a magazine, listening to Bone Thugs on my Ipod. Fucking Rocky. Yeah, I love to think about going to the gym. I have access to a free gym at my job. Maybe someday…

Until then, looks like it’s Tostito’s, con queso, wine, and killing off Sims. Carpe fucking diem.

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Thoughts About Wollaston Theater Being Sold

31 Jan

Minus all the blatant racism/ignorance surrounding the Wollaston Theater being sold to an Asian man, the whole situation kind of reminds me of the “Hey Arnold!” episode when Grandma is pissed that Ernie is tearing down the Circle Theater. Before people go crazy with Facebook petitions, read Koch’s tweet stating that the guy who bought the theater is willing to listen to the community about what will become of the building. Ultimately, this guy will need some kind of community support when it comes down to the future of Wolly Theater. Or maybe that’s a bullshit lie, who knows? But regardless of what Wollaston Theater becomes, there is no need for all the racist comments, because racism is never a good look for anyone. I grew up in Quincy so I understand people are sad when they think about all the childhood memories that theater gave them. But is anyone REALLY surprised? The place shut down in 2003! It took almost a decade to sell! Just remember the good times. I will always remember going to buck night during the summer back in the 90′s to see movies such as The Lion King and Casper. Or the time my friend spilled her popcorn and the guy behind the counter bitched her 1st grade ass out and wouldn’t refill her bucket. But what I will remember most is that awkward feeling I felt while watching Titanic at Wollaston Theater, while sitting right next to my father. Eek.

Here’s a song compliments of Dino Spumoni to help you get over your pointless depression:

Get your shit together.

Caillou Sucks

30 Jan

Everyone who has children, lives with a child, or babysits a child has probably heard of Caillou, and probably cringes at the sound of the show’s theme song. For those of you who do not know who Caillou is, he is a bald headed, 4 year old little bastard with no respect for authority or the rules. Caillou’s voice will go right through you. His mom and dad are the biggest pushovers to ever be drawn, who have never learned the word “no”, and who I assume are on an assortment of pharmaceuticals. God forbid if the writer’s of the show ever add drug addiction into the storyline when Caillou gets older, because his parents are the epitome of enabling. Caillou also has a little sister, Rosie, who is not much better than Caillou, but we can excuse her by saying she’s in the terrible two’s. Caillou does not like to share with Rosie, his besty Leo, or any one else. He lacks empathy and is the most selfish animated child I’ve laid eyes on since Angelica Pickles.

Why is the background of Caillou’s world all white? Are the creator’s of Caillou racist or just plain lazy? They probably use the white background to symbolize Caillou’s shitty moods. Maybe the sky is overcast before God hates Caillou. Or maybe Caillou’s world is white because he is in purgatory doing a terrible job of repenting his sins. Caillou tantrums in literally every single episode. And the elderly female narrator is sure to let you know what caused his tantrum: “Caillou did not want to go to the supermarket. Caillou was angry.” Well guess what, buddy? Life is full of disappointments and shit you don’t want to do. But you get out of bed in the morning, do what you have to do, and you shut the fuck up, because no one cares about your misfortunes in life. I understand that 4 year old’s are going to throw tantrums, but this kid has some serious behavioral issues that need to be addressed with some therapy or meds. He is setting himself up for a swirly or maybe even in awful waffle or 5 in junior high. Man up Caillou. Before Donkey Lips and Budnick make you man up.

Don’t talk shit to me about talking shit about a 4 year old cartoon character from PBS…or else…Awful waffle! Awful waffle! Awful waffle!

Seeking Funny Guest Bloggers!

26 Jan

I work full time and have little time to write. I like to go out on weekends and um, some random weeknights. Okay, most random week nights. Blogs take a while to write sometimes, especially when they involve extension research, like my Doug Funny psychoanalysis. The easiest ones to write are the ones that have surprisingly gotten the most views, every single one of the Quincy entries. I guess they are easier and faster to write because I know too much about Quincy and should ford the Neponset River bridge more often. I don’t fucking know. I need time to go out and waste my money on bullshit. A girl’s gotta have some fun every now and  then or every day, either or. That being said, I am looking for guest bloggers to write for my website. I do have expectations of what is funny/appropriate. I am pretty vulgar, and don’t get offended easily, but don’t want to piss people off or hurt anyone or give my old fashioned/Republican parents a heart attack. I don’t mean censor yourself completely, but just don’t talk about wicked sick/creepy things. I don’t want too much information and no one else does. A good example of what I’m looking for is the SubCrawl entry from yesterday. However, if we are Facebook friends and I’ve never “liked” your status, then you probably shouldn’t bother. Just kidding, kind of.

So if you are funny and know the difference between “their” “they’re” and “there”, please contact me: m3mckenna@hotmail.com

Thanks bitches.

Mini Vans

26 Jan

A friend of mine suggested that I write about my disdain for mini vans. I couldn’t really think of much to say about them, other than they suck. Until last night when I saw the following commercial and got kind of pissed off:

Um…NO ONE gets that excited for a fucking mini van. Especially not a middle aged man. No matter how many televisions in that back seat and crazy pyrotechnics behind  the minivan, no one can make that thing look bad ass (except maybe the white trash that hunted me down Hancock Street in one). Call me immature but there are certain things about minivans that make me sick. Allow me to list them for you:

  • Loss of individuality: When I think of minivans, I think of kids with cleats screaming their asses off and stressed out moms with hair in a crazy bun. That’s what motherhood is all about right? I don’t fucking know, I don’t have kids. My point is, why can’t you put your hyper maniac kids in an SUV and head to practice? The second you sit in that driver’s seat, you become soccer mom. You get in an SUV, you’re just a middle aged woman with a little more sense of who you are, dropping your little asshats off at their game before you go shopping. You are a woman, not a cab driver. Maybe you’re a man, I don’t know, then why not get a truck? You are a mom of course, but before you were a mom you were a woman. Why is it that the day you get home from the hospital you feel the need to run down to your local Ford dealership to purchase your first Windstar? No need, there is enough room for 2 kids to sit in the back of a sedan, just get one with trunk space. If you’re a dad, let me remind you that you look like a fucking tool bombing around in that thing. Case in point is this dude throwin’ up duces:
  • Foul Smells: You can vacuum that dump on wheels every other day for all I care, but the fact of the matter is: you will never get the smell of McDonald’s french fries and puke out of the cloth material. Have fun digging all that shit from between the seats. Fries, goldfish crumbs, M&M’s, crack, I don’t know what your kids are ingesting. No amount of Febreze can cleanse your van’s cushions or your mind.
  • Messiness: Minivans are too big to ensure proper cleanliness. They have like 50 cup holders and shit all over the place. It’s like having a small apartment that smells and has kids in it. Good luck finding that binky that fell on the floor last Tuesday.
  • The radio: You can bullshit all you want, but don’t tell me that Radio Disney is not on your presets. Because it is. So get ready to listen to “Put me in Coach” 4 times a day. When you aren’t listening to Radio Disney (like when you go through a tunnel), you’re listening to your kids’ scratched up Kidz Bop CD. I hope that “Pocket Full of Sunshine” doesn’t skip when you hit a bump in the road! Time for a mid life crisis before Kidz Bop 37 hits the shelves!
  • Kids don’t need to play video games on the road: So, um…why do your kids need to play video games on the way to the supermarket? Tell them to press “pause” on Mario Kart and get in the fucking car before you count to three. If they don’t listen, send them to boot camp. If they do listen, then reward them by selling the minivan with the Playstation in it, buy yourself an SUV and a Gameboy for the kids. It’s a win-win. What ever happened to car games like “I Spy”?

I don’t want to make people who drive minivans feel too bad. I don’t have kids and I’m pretty full of shit all the time anyways. Besides, it could always be worse. My parents were heavily into station wagons for years. My mom got rid of her 80-something Chevy Celebrity when it shit the bed, and when I told her not to go for another station wagon, she agreed. She said she was going for a “sporty” look. But when I got home from school the afternoon she went car shopping, I looked in the driveway and to my utter horror, sitting in the Chevy’s place, was this: The karma here is that after making fun of that thing for years, when my first car stopped running and I couldn’t afford a new car, guess what I drove to school? The shaggin’ wagon. I drive a Civic now, I ain’t no baller. Mom, you can borrow it, but don’t scratch it up, it’s a lease. I hope your friends at work don’t egg your car when they read this. Sorry!

Love you mom, sorry! :)

Guest Blogger’s Best “Highdea” Ever

25 Jan

This guest blogger wants to remain anonymous, but would like to share with you his best “highdea” ever. Enjoy assholes!

My Best “Highdea” Ever

Like any good Quincy kid, I used to drink myself into oblivion on the reg. Maybe a little more than that. As a matter of fact, when 50 year old career alcoholics are telling you that you’re a drunk, it’s probably time to give it up. I did just that a few years ago at the insistence of my family and that guy from Intervention (not really, but I kept waiting for him to show up. No dice). 

Anyway, I then proceeded to smoke absurd amounts of weed. I would forget pretty much everything, so I began writing down my “highdeas” in a little Spongebob Squarepants notebook. Sadly, I lost it a long time ago (go figure). There was some serious gold in there. Like, I’d be super rich and out of Quincy by now. For serious.

I do remember one of them, however. Yes, only one. One fine fall Saturday afternoon, everyone on Facey was checking in at some of the finer dive bars up and down Hancock Street. Pub crawl? Jealous. Granted, I would’ve never made it past Murphy’s or would’ve ended up nose deep in a scorpion bowl at Trashay Pathetic, but I digress. I had the urge to drink, but I came up with a better higdea: “Fuck a pub crawl, I’m going on a sub crawl!”

The plan was mass amounts of RooR bong hits and enjoying all of my favorite sandwiches in Quincy in between. Clearly, we’d be driving. We’re unapologetically ruthless stoners whose idea of exercise was playing catch with a lit blunt, we’re not walking anywhere. Fucking brilliant, right? I tried to rally the troops, but no dice. Guess where they were. That’s right, on the Pub Crawl. Quincy’d.

Fast forward to today. I’m now 100% sober. I’m still addicted to food however. By food I mean bomb sandwiches. And I still reeeeeallly want to go on a Sub Crawl. I want to gorge myself over the course of two days until I’m sweating a mixture of buffalo sauce and blue cheese. Weymouth need not apply. So who is with me?  Here’s the itinerary, or T’s Top 10 Quincy Sandwiches:

10. Pastrami Sandwich at Brothers Roast Beef- I don’t know about you, but pastrami is one of my go-to cold weather sandwiches. Brothers may not deliver in the buff chick department but it’s dank sandwiches more than make up for it. This one is no exception. It’s neither too fatty nor too salty. They hook it up with a fat pile o’ meat and the Super Pastrami is almost too big(that’s what she said?). I recommend it with provolone or american, onion and light mustard. Make sure you specify light. Believe me when I tell you that there is such thing as too much mustard, and it has been known to ruin a perfectly good Sunday.

9. Boneless BBQ Rib Sandwich at Grumpy’s- If you’ve only had the buff chick sandwich at Grumpy White’s, consider yourself a Grumpy’s noob. This sandwich may sound gross but clearly I know my sandwiches. Especially at Grumpy’s. I grew up right across the street and I can honestly say that I’ve tried everything on the menu (Scallops Nantucket: Sup?). Two factors put this one on the list: GW’s amazing BBQ sauce and price. While the cost of the beloved Buff Chick has skyrocketed since approximately 2004, this guy has been steady hangin’ around the six dollar mark. That’s what’s up. And if you don’t know about Grumpy’s BBQ, what are you waiting for? Go mix it with their buffalo for the best buffaque ever.

8. Honey BBQ Wrap at le 99- No tomato, extra cheese, sub BBQ for Gold Fever, thank me later. Go. Now. Serslah.

7. Fish Sandwich at The Fat Cat- I’m Irish and I love me a good fish sandwich, sorry if you don’t! The Fat Cat, much like Grumpy’s, never disappoints. This thing is enormous (that’s definitely not what she said)! The homemade tartar is great and I recommend adding a slab of American cheese. I’m not a tomato guy but the lettuce and red onion can stay. Fucking love me some red onion.

6. Buffalo Chicken Sub at Pizza Connection- First off, I feel old. I remember when this place was the Alumni Café. That’s the reeeal OG name. Then it was Winter Spring. Meh. It didn’t hit its stride until the current management took over. Yeah, the buff chick calzone is good, but this isn’t a ‘zone crawl, sorry brah. What I like about this one is the quality of the chicken. It’s real chicken and they rarely skimp you on it. They also have pretty dank blue cheese. I’m pretty sure it’s Saratoga. Stoney will know for sure.

5. Italian Sub at Carmine’s- If you’re asking yourself where the hell Carmine’s is, you’ve obviously never been on a Squantum 500. Step your game up. I like small businesses, and my little sister also happens to work there so I gotta show some love. This choice has everything to do with the actual sub. The guy is from Italy so I’m pretty sure he makes a better Italian sandwich than, say, everyone. He uses the finest MFing deli meats, fresh produce, and knows the fine line between not enough and too much mayonnaise. I’d tell you exactly where it is, but then I’d have to I’m lazy as fuck.

4. Sweet Home Alabama Sub at Renaissance Café- At the risk of sounding like a dick, if you haven’t ordered from Renaissance, you fail hard. It was tough deciding what sub to actually put on this list because I haven’t eaten there in a while because I’m lazy. Anywho, the ingredients say it all: Steak tips marinated in honey BBQ and Teriyaki with bacon and a three cheese blend. So let’s see. Real steak, bacon, cheese, and mucho sauce? Pretty fucking American. Get on it. Billings Road for the n00bs.

3. Buff Chick Sub at Grumpy’s- Five years ago, this would’ve fallen squarely at number one. Alas, I was but a Quincy sandwich novice. The amount of chicken has decreased, the price has increased, and the competition has stiffened. Having said that, I’m willing to best most of you already give this one the respect it deserves. It’s like the OG iPod: it invented the market. Not much more needs to be said. Fucking love Buff Chick subs from Grumpy’s. Duh.

2. Super Beef at Brother’s Roast Beef- Of course it’s good. It’s a roast beef shop. The regular beef is good too, I guess. If you’re an un-American little bitch! Step it up to the onion roll. Toppings? Simple: American, BBQ, mayo, onion. Or three way wit’ onion for the reeeal roast beef afficionados/enthusiasts.

1.Buff Chick Wrap at The Fat Cat- Seeing a trend here? Yeah, I love buffalo chicken. One time I had sweet n spicy buff wings at ACME in Rochester, NY (best sauce I’ve had to date) and then drove two hours to Buffalo,NY to eat more wings at Duff’s, the for real for real OG home of the buffalo wing. That’s dedication. Fucking Buffalo Wing Tour 2009 . You may be wondering: What makes the Fat Cat tops in Quincy? Even if you weren’t wondering that, I’d like to tell you. One word: BACON. Any sandwich with bacon on it is going to win out every single time. If you asked me to choose between a dog poop sandwich with or without bacon, I’d tell you to screw. If you pulled a gun, or if you’re “The toughest kid in Quincy”, I’d hafta go with the bacon covered poop. The Fat Cat’s chic take on Buffdom comes on fresh lavash. Obvi, I skip the tomatoes and order extra Blue Cheese on the side. It also has red onion, which gives it the perfect amount of crunch. Get it in.

So there you have it. Lemme know if you think you can hang. I’d also like to throw out a few honorable mentions: Chicken Rancho at Harry’s Pizza, Large Steak and Cheese with extra cheese and bacon and onion at D’angelo’s, Chicken Finger Sub with BBQ and bacon and cheese from Bernie’s (best thing ever to come out of the Neck that isn’t Sea Street), the Chicken Parm at Grumpy’s, the Bobby Orr, the Doug Flutie, and Bobby Riggs from The Fours. But seriously, let’s get a sub crawl. We’ll make t shirts and shit. I know everyone just wants a t shirt. People love t shirts.

Brother Husbands

25 Jan


It shames me so much to admit that I’m guilty of watching some pretty shitty television shows (Teen Mom, Jersey Shore, Dr. Phil, Dance Moms, to name a few). I’m not proud of it, and I shit on myself for it, so before you dub me a big douchebag, just know that I already know I am. Besides, I also watch genius shows, such as South Park. And anyone who wants to argue with me about South Park’s intellect can go right on ahead and fucking bring it, because the guys who make that show are probably the smartest people ever. But aside from Dance Moms, the most disturbing shitty TV show I sometimes watch is Sister Wives, on TLC. Everything about that show is disturbing: the concept of having multiple wives, the concept of even ONE woman wanting to marry a complete tool like Kody Brown, the concept of Jenelle, and Christine, fucking EVERYTHING. Everything is disturbing. Those poor children! Especially the new wive’s  kids from a previous marriage: “Kids, meet your new 27 brothers and sisters. They all kind of look like Kody, Jenelle, and Christine.”. I would puke!

The Brown family has been interviewed a number of times and are always asked the same question: how do they feel about the idea of “Brother Husbands”. You know, one woman married to multiple men. Obviously, the Browns are against it (makes complete sense, right?!). Kody is not one for sharing those four wives of his, especially Robin (the new, younger, hotter one with emotional baggage). Both Sister Wives and Brother Husbands are deeply disturbing to me. But let’s be real here, Brother Husbands are even more disturbing than Sister Wives. I absolutely think Sister Wives are unfortunate women brainwashed by tools like Kody Brown, but I also cannot imagine any sane woman wanting to be with more than one man. Like, how batshit can one person be to actually have like 3-4 husbands? That’s 3-4 potential man children to deal with on a daily basis! What if they all caught a cold at the same time? Or if they all loved Call of Duty/Star Wars? Fuck that! Not to mention the fist fights and boozing that would be going on in that household. Does the wife of Brother Husbands go for different characteristics in each hubby? Like one is the man bitch who does the chores and tends to the children while the wife gets her nails done. Then there is one is the  dude (preferably Jewish) who takes care of the family finances and makes the most dough.  And then there is the stoner husband who is in the 3way marriage for the pull-out couch to crash on while the money dude works. I wonder if the husbands would each have their own bedroom with racecar beds and posters of Jenna Jameson on the walls…or would they share a room with bunk beds like step brothers? What happens when the wife wants to bring in a new Brother Husband? Does the potential 4th husband have to pass a series of tests involving intense hazing from the other husbands to be initiated into the family, like a frat house?  It’s scary to think of the amount of dutch ovens that wife would receive every day for the rest of her life, or until she flips the fuck out and kills all of her husbands and the show is made into an episode “Snapped”. How many dutch ovens can a woman receive before they cut their husband’s balls off? Think of the fumes they are inhaling, would it really be her fault? Let’s be real, it would only be a matter of time. Or this could happen:

Brother Husbands, Sister Wives, whatever…does anyone want multiple in laws?

Useless Thought with Shaun Maloof: Fortune Cookies

25 Jan
Maloof has some thoughts on fortune cookies. Oh yeah, and there’s a free advertisement for Peking Kitchen below this opening statement. Not-so-subliminal messaging…enjoy!
Fortune cookies
Much like the legend that is Barney, I also enjoy Chinese food. However I am not as animated about my love for it as Barney is. I just can’t get that excited about food. Peking Kitchen is my usual stop. It’s very conveniently located in Quincy Center so it’s not far from my usual drinking spots. If you do go there I recommend you grab combination plate 17. It has got everything you want. General Gau chicken, pork fried rice, and crab rangoon. I think all of us can agree that all three of those things equal good stuff. The best part, at least for me, about Chinese food is the fortune cookie. Those things are great. Of course we all know that I’m talking about that little Zen message that comes inside and not the actual cookie. Talk about ruining a good meal because those “cookies” taste like shit. Fortune cookies are so full of information too. Sure we all love those sayings but most of us forget the fact that they also teach us how to speak Chinese and that they give us our lucky numbers. Here are some examples of some common fortune cookie sayings:
-“You will be successful in your work” (how do you know?)
-“Remember this: duct tape can fix anything, so don’t worry about messing things up” (duct tape can’t fix my debt.)
-“Be direct, usually one can accomplish more that way” (I wish my girlfriend would get this fortune cookie.)
…So I got to thinking, how does one get a job as a fortune cookie writer? Well I did a little research over at ehow.com and this is what they said:
While it’s a myth that there is a person sitting at a table inserting fortunes into fortune cookies by hand, it’s absolutely true that a real person writes the fortunes. This is a hard gig to get because fortune cookies are not a growth industry and there are not huge factories employing thousands of fortune cookie writers. If you have a mystical bent and are able to express your ideas clearly on a tiny piece of paper, you may have a future in the field of fortune writing.
So that gave me no information about how to become a fortune cookie writer. Also, I think I’m going to have to use the phrase “mystical bent” from now on. I probably never will but hopefully once before I die I’ll use it. Anywho, here are some fortune cookies sayings that I came up with off the top of my head. Maybe someday I can sell them to Peking Kitchen:
-“This fortune sucks.”
-“Smelly diaper means messy grandpa.”
-“Save this fortune. If you don’t, Chuck Norris will find you and he won’t be happy.”
-“That shirt makes you look fat.”
-“You should have chosen the other cookie.”
-“Things could be worse. You could live in New Jersey.”
-“Tonight will be dark.”
These are just a few examples. If I ever get one of these in the future I will either laugh or say “what the fuck?” But then I will realize that someone took my idea and I will become sad. Possibly even angry that I didn’t submit these myself. End of blog. I have to go give these ideas to Peking Kitchen.

I Do Weird Shit in my Sleep

24 Jan

Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve been the weirdest sleeper pretty much ever. I would sleep walk all over the place and would say weird shit and basically scare people into thinking I was Emily Rose post demon possession. I was caught running out of my grandparents house at 1am when I was 6 years old, my grandfather picked me up as I was heading into the backyard and put me back into my bed. After sleep walking on a train to Florida (my dad does not fly), my mom found me asleep next to some random little boy a few seats up from us. I’m the biggest sleep creeper, and this followed me all the way into adulthood. My mom asked me if I was in a fight with one of my girlfriends one morning, and I was like, “um, no…why?” and she proceeded to tell me that I had been screaming at my friend on my cell phone at around 2 o clock in the morning. I was yelling out, “F you ________!”, and other douchey things. This friend is known to call me at 2am drunk quite often, when I looked at my cell phone call log however, her number was not listed. I had been screaming at my friend in my sleep. Normal.

Things got pretty bad when I went away to college. I was in a forced triple and had two very chill roommates who know I’m a fucking weirdo who still plays lava tag indoors, and does weird shit in her sleep. I took a couple of early morning classes my first semester for God knows what reason, especially because one of my roommates was a night owl. In order to get a decent night of sleep when I had to be up at the ass crack of dawn, I would take a Tylenol PM and pass the fuck out. I don’t know if you’ve ever had the experience of staying awake too long after taking sleepy meds, but I have, and it makes me even weirder. You are basically tripping when this occurs. I took sleepy meds while my roommate stayed up watching My Big Fat Greek Wedding, and I was half into the movie, half asleep. When she turned the TV off, and laid down, I began dreaming that our dorm was on fire. So I had to grab my most important shit. Not my laptop, cell phone, TV, or Uggs, but my comforter. It was just so snuggly and warm. So I grabbed that shit and started screaming, “Oh my God! Oh my GOD!!!!! We’re gonna die!!!”, and fled from my bed with my comforter over my head. I made it to the door then came to while trying to unlock it. My roommates were sitting up in their beds, staring at me. One of them turned the light on. A lot of times when things like this happen, I am too tired to feel embarrassed, so I just retreat back to my bed and brush off their concerns by saying, “Sorry, dorm was on fire. Had to save comforter. It’s goose feathers”. Hope they aren’t plagued by nightmares of dorm fires/possessed sleep creeps. I lived on campus one year, then started commuting to Bridgewater from Quincy a few days a week. College life isn’t for everyone I guess.

Results are in…

24 Jan

Yesterday I polled readers to find out who should be the next President of Quincy. This is an honor, even though it is not remotely legit/totally made up. Before I announce the people’s choice for Quincy’s leaderiest leader, I’d like to share with you the write in’s that I found particularly interesting. Here are the nominees:

  • Barney: 4 votes, 3 of which were probably himself.
  • Because Molly Said So: With 12 votes, this truly shows where your priorities for Quincy lay. While I’m honored to be a nominee, this is a complete lapse in judgement. Do you want to Google “Quincy bar flies” and see your president?! Wake up and smell the medium iced German with cream 1 sugar, guys! This is your city! And by the way, Because Molly Said So is not my real name.
  • Jimmy Hui: I couldn’t agree more with the 9 people who voted for Jimmy. He is the man, the myth, the legend. There is no one more involved with Quincy than Jimmy Hui. #JimmyHuiForQuincy2012
  • Mr. Owens: I miss him :( 2 votes.
  • Anthony the can man from Hough’s Neck: At 2 votes, he knows the value of a dollar.
  • Uncle Sam: The neck is really involved in politics this year, at 1 vote, Uncle Sam is a nominee(who you might recognize from the billboard on Newport and Beale).
  • Cheryl: No idea who this is but she’s been nominated with such nicknames as “Shitty Cheryl” and “Cheryl the crazy lady from Quincy Center”. Someone please fill me in?
  • Dad: Not sure who’s dad he is, but dad, you’re a nominee.
  • Frankie: A descendant of Quincy, Frankie changed the face of Wollaston forever. We’ll never forget you Frankie.
  • Coughlin: He was my dean for 4 years, I couldn’t ask for a better nominee.

All excellent candidates, however no one got as many votes as one man & or woman of Quincy. Introducing your new faux President of Quincy, by a lead of 22%: @QuincyTweets. Follow him/her on Twitter for information on all things Quincy. And if you figure out the mystery that is @QuincyTweets’s identity, DM me. Congrats Quincy Tweets. Keep tweetin’. God, I hope Bugs isn’t taking this failure out on the bottle…

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