Sunday, February 8, 2009

martine tells it like it is.

long time no blog. no news is good news, i guess. i remember a time when i needed my own reality show because everything seemed so....unreal. but my female counterpart moved 5 hours away, and the declining economy has made me not want to leave my house very much. but i guess i'm still just as shitty and angry at everything.

there's a tv show thats airs on weekday mornings at 11am called "The Mike and Juliette Morning Show", and i fucking hate it with every ounce of my being. and i'll tell you what, hating something that much is really very exhausting.

it's a show made for women who feel sorry for themselves, with such topics as "how to find love in 90 days", "how do i know if he's cheating on me?" and "why don't men like it when a woman approaches them?", and then a panel of d-list celebs and columnists dissect the topic and spount off shitty reasons for things and sugarcoated answers that make the truth easier to swallow.

i'm all for womens empowerment, but lets be realistic here. wouldn't it be more productive to, say, maybe ride a bike rather than watch this garbage? the women watching this show are more than likely obese anyway. newsflash to ladies looking for love: if you don't feel like a fat self depreciating slob, someone might love you and want to fuck you rather than get caught up in an internet porn addiction while using you for everything you're worth. i know i don't even want to be around my friends when they say "oh, i feel so fat and bloated this week" for six days. why would any self respecting male? and more importantly, why would any self respecting female let ANYONE mooch off of them if they're not at least getting laid?

Thankfully, i did read somewhere that Mike and Juliette has been cancelled, and will stop airing in April. If there is a god, i would like to thank him. if you feel so inclined and you're home sick from work, peep this show and gag at how awful it is. you'll understand.

large companies in the corporate world offer sick days to their employees so that they can call out sick if they have, say, pneumonia. i know if i have pneumonia, i am not leaving my bed for anything. (okay, maybe if dairy wasn't bad for eliminating phlegm production, i might leave my bed for a mint brownie blizzard from DQ. do they even make those? they should.)
so, if you have a cough for 2+ weeks, what would compell you to go to work and NOT GO TO THE DOCTOR?

as a child, i had chronic bronchitis, and i am well aware that if i do not go to the doctor and rest at least for a day or two and continue on with my daily activities, i have the possibility of developing pneumonia. and then, i could die. no amount of money in this world is worth dying for, i'm sorry. what good is money when you're dead anyway? in heaven (which is where i would obviously go because i am such a believer), i could have all the pupppies and brownie sundaes i want for free anyway.

there is a woman who i am employed with who uses all of her paid time off (i'm sure sick days are included) to go do surveys and gets paid for doing them, but she's been coughing for almost 3 weeks now. the other day, i asked her if she had gone to the doctor, and her answer was no.
i went to management and explained my disgust for this evil cough and her lack of manners (aka not covering her mouth while she coughs) and how i wash my hands 15 times a day and my skin is raw from the disgusting drying soap in the restroom etc etc. you know what they said?

"wear a mask."

oh, okay.

knock on wood, cross your fingers, cast a voodoo spell, throw salt over your shoulder turn around in a circle and say a prayer....anything to help prevent me from getting that tumbolis. because so help me god, if i develop that cough, i'm going to come to work sick, and i WILL throw up on her desk. and i will go home and sleep and feel really good about it.

Sunday, November 9, 2008

"yo, what are you gonna do about it?"

okay, so maybe i have a big mouth and i don't know when to shut up sometimes. but other times, it makes for a great story.

i just moved into chateau harder this week. on wednesday, i went to wal-mart with brooke to pick up a few things for my new room since i haven't had my own bedroom in about a year and a half and have given up the majority of my belongings. we took the long way through the parking lot just so we could take a gander at chuck-e-cheese and reminisce about the days of playing the jurassic park ride til we were about to puke from the greasiest pizza known to man.

as we rounded the corner of the parking lot, past the grocery store, i said outloud, "man, this is the worst fucking parking lot i've ever been in." now, i've been in some pretty terrible parking lots. the shopping center by my dad's house is one of the absolute worst because if it's not small mexicans driving through in cars that are on their last leg, it's hockey moms in suburbans they don't know how to drive. following in a close second is the parking lot in the calabasas commons. not only is it not uniform in the sense that the lanes don't go in a grid-like fashion, but there are diagonal aisles. fuckin' a.

the aisle i'm going down empties out right by a driveway, and fellow (not a gentleman) in his late 30s, possibly in his early 40s. balding, olive complexion, possibly some pockmarks and a mustache, was driving a pick up truck going mach 70 speeds through, nearly clipping the front of my adorable volkswagen golf. my window was down because it was such a glorious southern california day (read: 90 degrees in november with my shirt sticking to my back), and so was his (most likely for the same reason), so he definitely heard me yell "WHOA SLOW DOWN YOU ASSHOLE!"
he did not like being called an asshole very much, so he stopped his truck in front of my car and said, "did you just call me an asshole?"
my reply to him was "OK, COULD YOU MOVE?"
oh, he moved alright. he moved up to the driveway, jerked his truck to a halt, and got out of his car.

as he walked towards my car, brooke gripped my center consol, looking around for something to be used as a weapon. i thummbed through my brain glossary, wondering what i could use because my mace was not in my purse and if this dude hit me, i was probably going to stab him. a persian mother in a sea foam green explorer pulled up LITERALLY on top of my car and said to me "people in this world are SO mean" to which i replied "yes, i am aware."

pockmark mustache man is approaching my car rambling about how i called him an asshole, and brooke goes "ok, so what are you going to do about it?" and all i could say was "brooke, please." because there are no weapons in my car. so finally i go "OKAY, I'M SORRY." and he replies with "you better be."

WHAT? REALLY? it's the year 2008, you're hauling ass in a parking lot, AND getting offended by being called an asshole? do you have anger issues? control issues? are you abusive? WHAT WERE YOU PLANNING TO DO TO TWO GIRLS IN A CAR? REALLY.

so pockmark mustache man walks back to his car, brooke and i start cracking up hysterically, and make our way into wal-mart.

later on, on the way home, we saw a man using a a segway as a mode of transportation.......

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

why interoffice relations fail to work.

Office life is very dull, I do understand this. But while its dull, its just as incestual as the hardcore scene. Or maybe that's just my office.
I have heard about fistfights over girls in my office. I think that's really funny. Why would you take part in inter office relations anyway? I guess if life is dull, you can always flirt via e-mail.

There is one fellow in particular who thought itd be a great idea to attempt this with me.
On sundays, he would approach me awkwardly in the breakroom. His short pants hitting his ankles while he walked into the room, making a silly slapping sound. His 1998 faded black sideout shirt was an extra nice touch. Do they even still make sideout? Where would one aquire such a marvelous piece of clothing brand new?
He looked no older than 12, but his age was 21. He was from Kentucky, and wore a wedding ring on his finger.
If you're married.....act married. Please for the love of fucking god.
Anyway, his favorite topic of conversation with me was always baked goods. Challenging me to inter office baking contests while sheepishly smiling like the choir boy he portrayed himself to be. Of course, I like to satisfy peoples' wants by telling them what they want to hear when I don't want to be bothered, so I obliged while typing on my sidekick to someones away message, attempting to look occupied.
This went on for a couple of weeks, and then he e-mailed me about an expensive gourmet cake, and some pizza. I got the inkling he liked his women fat, so I just worked out harder. This fucker really was starting to chap my hide. I eventually started to ignore him.
One day, he let me know that his favorite type of music was German techno. I may listen to that in my spare time with the techno twins Schloz and Deter, but that does not mean I partake in German techno activities on a regular basis. I decided this fucker needed to get lost once and for all.

I just got stuck in the elevator with him, once again awkwardly pretending to talk to someone on my sidekick. I heard yesterday he told someone in the office that he hasn't gotten a vaccine since the 3rd grade. Ilegal? Yes. But I wouldn't put anything past a Kentucky asscreep.

Sunday, October 12, 2008

"if the jizzum isn't hizzum...."

Right after I turned 18, I got a job working for an 'adult' production company called BackEnd Productions. Meg Loyal got me the job because I was in dire need of work and she was the receptionist. I'm just that much of a smooth talker that I bullshit my way into this job. Little did they know that everyone they'd hire after me would eventually be the demise of the company.

The company was fairly new, so they hired outbound people to call mom and pop video stores to sell these dvds. Essentially I spent my day talking dirty to old women and Indian men named Patel from Nowhere, USA. Imagine talking dirty to your grandma. Yeah, sweet life.
The title we were selling was called "He Said, She Said" and it was a spoof on the Kobe Bryant case which was obvs the hot ticket at the time.
[Sidebar... Lexington Steel was in it and, and man, let me tell you...that fool has the biggest dick I've ever seen. Fuck that. Anyway...]
The best part about this job was when people would literally try to have phone sex with me. It happened all the time, and I could pretty much say whatever I wanted to them and/or hang up on them. Hanging up on people has to be one of the best things ever. It was also great when I had to call in the Bible Belt. If they sold porn, they would have me talk to someone else "in private" and they would talk about how porn is a sin and all this crazy religious stuff, and I was allowed to say, "Hey, you gotta get your rocks off somehow." The best response by far though was "we don't sell nigger one likes to watch white women get fucked by niggers."

Time went on, and we started hiring. So I somehow convinced my supervisor to hire Brooke. I begged him to hire her. Pleaded. And he finally did. And then he hired Sara. And Bijan. And Myke Turner. And pretty soon, the office was a big clusterfuck of hardcore kids who needed easy money. All my friends were working with me, and it ruled.
We spent the day bullshitting, making our supervisor do our work for us, eating hot cheetos, making fun of people's names (read: ANIL VATS) and listening to Bad Brains, Cro Mags and One Up [with some possible office mosh] I remember one day, Brooke and I went to our tattoo shop which was right next door, and she got tattooed on our lunch break.

At this point in time, Brooke and I drank ALOT. And by alot, I mean we'd go out at night, get trashed, go home at 2am, go to work at 7am, drink on our lunchbreak (her house was right down the street), go back to work, sell porn totally fucking hammered, go home, go out and do it all over again. It was awful, and I probably gained the brunt of my excess weight from drinking expensive fancy liqueours from France found in her dad's liquor cabinet.

Slowly, everyone started to get fired. Bijan and Myke were the first to go obviously because they were dudes. Then Sara. And it was just me and Brooke, because our boss loved us the most. (duh, obviously.) And then one day, Brooke got the axe. I was planning on going to Boston at the beginning of January, and a week before the trip, I was told the company was going under because we weren't selling enough, so I got laid off. I was so fucking upset. It was the best job I ever had. I got paid $10 +commish to fuck around with my friends all day long. And at the time, that was a pretty sizable amount for an 18 year old who didn't have any bills to pay.

No job has ever compared. RIP, BackEnd.

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

for all the boys in the world.

i was reading my friend stafford's blog, and saw that he did a recap of every girl he ever liked from l-12. i decided i was going to rip him off, so i had to actually sit here and rack my brain for all the idiots who have infiltrated my life. i'm a winner.

k- i hung out with these two kids, chase and marvin. they were both black. they worshipped mc hammer, and i thought they were so cool cus they could dance. i got caught "playing doctor" with them both in a playhouse at my school. the teachers called my parents, i got in trouble. thus began a long, awesome road of chastity and prudeness. i also kissed two black dudes. u mad.

1- i was still kind of cute in 1st grade, but i wore bike shorts and oversized boxy hand-me-down tshirts. no boy was ever gonna wanna hold my hand in those rags. i had a crush on a 3rd grader named brandon coverdale who talked to me one time and i saw stars. he had a brother named corey who was in 5th. he too, was a babe. i guess it's safe to say i knew at an early age what i wanted.

2- i don't remember 2nd grade. at all.

3- i almost got expelled my 3rd grade year. not only was i the most annoying kid, but i was fucking awkward. i was boycrazy at 8, but i was so terrified of boys. i'm pretty sure i had a crush on most of my 3rd grade class except for andrew yazno. he was gross and super russian. i did also have a crush on a 5th grader named ben kogel. he ran for school president. i voted. if i could compare him to anyone (at that time), it would most definitely have been devon sawa. swoonz.

4- my best friend rachel and i hung out with this kid named tyler compato. he was in the 6th grade and smoked cigarettes so that automatically made him cool and badass and foreign to me because the thought of a 12 year old with braces smoking cigarettes was preposterous. i think he might have asked me to see my boobs at one point, but i was a AA so i said no. plus i was afraid of boys. he ended up being rachel's boyfriend.

5- i went to a catholic school. why? i have no idea, i'm jewish. tom patternoster was my main squeeze this year. laugh at me all you want, i know this dude is a total fucking homo now. that's fine, because i'm pretty sure he threw a handball at me.

6- still in my catholic school, but this year i got rebellious. i told everyone to fuck off. still the most obnoxious 11 year old you ever met (ok, i'm young. my birthday is in august) this year, i had a crush on ben cox (which i'm 99% sure someone on my friends list whos reading this probably knows him...) and leo rodriguez. this is where my pattern of blonde haired blue eyed dudes starts. this is also the begining of my latin fever. leo was really nice to me, but ben was not. ben knew he was hot shit. he also liked smashing pumpkins alot, so i liked them too.

7- oh boy. love of my life, eddie simmett. this was the first year of my life that i ever even hugged a boy. eddie is my angel. he made me a tape of dead kennedy's "give me convenience..." and thus changed my world. we hung out every day and skateboarded and listened to blink 182 together. we got held up at gunpoint on halloween for pumpkin bowling, and then he moved away. i saw him a few years ago at a locust show, but he's not the same. eddie, come back to me.....

8- hahaha this year is so fucking laughable. this is the year that i got "popular", and all the boys loved me. they did a survey on who had the best assets, and i won it by a point. brandon rodriguez was my boyfriend. we never kissed. we just held hands and he walked me home from school. it lasted 2 weeks and then he moved onto my best friend nicole tavdi.

9- i wish i could erase this entire year. 2001 sucked. i had my first REAL boyfriend. nate siggard. he was in a pop punk band called private selection. he was mormon and had very very deep seeded issues. he was a fucking pussy and would cry about everything and he loved to put me down. we dated for 4 months and he was my first kiss (which happened on october 11th, 2001 while american woman by lenny kravitz was on mtv). all he wanted to do was eat my vajay. i guess i was ok with that though. he made me break edge by smoking weed and he liked incubus alot. literally he said "you're too uptight. your edge, or me." of course, him. and he dumped me that night. LOL.

10- i got really into pills and shitty coked out dudes when i was 15 for some reason. me and cortney twomey hung out with dudes named fish and ilya. i was a fucking mess, and totally crazy about some dude named josh puklavitz who was the singer of a band called the christpunchers. he was 17 and had a 32 year old girlfriend. i made sure to let him know everytime i talked to him that his girlfriend was old enough to be his mom. he didn't like that very much. later on, i got a crush on a dude named jimmy who was in the same band as josh. jimmy was just fucking awkward all around and once he found out i had a crush on him, he didn't look me in the eyes.

11- shane from north carolina. some might know him, some might not. broke veganism on a snickers bar he bought at 7-11 in tarzana. wild times. next!

12- i lost my virginity to matt good. he was my boyfriend, and he is not in a very good band. we dated for 7 months and i got free trips to georgia and florida. while he was on warped tour, he decided he didn't want to be with me anymore. i was more devistated because i love his mom and sister. he is a rockstar prick. fuck him.

and there you have it.

Sunday, August 3, 2008

The night that the Persian Mafia almost killed me.

When I was 17, I took Cosmetolgy courses as part of my high school's ROP program. It was free, it was after school, and it sucked. There was a girl in my class who I went to remedial high school with (before I got kicked out) named Ciji, and while we were not friends in school, we were definitely attached at the hip in Cosmo because we didn't know (or want to know) anyone else. She lived down the street from me too, so we carpooled often. It didn't matter though because gas was like, $1.75 then and we lived like 10 miles from the school.
Ciji looked like Mariah Carey and loved Persian dudes. Persian dudes suck. Anyway, she had a boyfriend who was a real scumbag and would always give her problems. She'd always talk about some Persian Mafia type shit and in typical Martine fashion I always told her to ditch the zero and shut up about it. I think she even mentioned a time when he was physically abusive to her. That's a big no no.
One night, Ciji is driving us home from school and we notice a car is following us. Not in the "oh, weird that car is going in the same direction as us" sense, it was in the "holy fucking shit, that car is following us." So she starts going down all these weird inconvenient side streets and sure enough the car does too. At this point I'm freaking out and asking her if she knows whats going on and again she spouts some shit about the Persian Mafia and her boyfriend and yadda yadda and I'm like "CIJI DON'T GO HOME, DON'T BE DUMB JUST GO TO THE POLICE STATION." And in typical dumb slut fashion, she says "no, I can't. They'll just drive off and wait til the cops are gone to fuck with me." I'm shitting bricks, and she turns up the street to my house and we hit a stop sign. The car cuts us off, stops in front of us, almost hitting her, and two Persian dudes with baseball bats get out and run at the car. She books it back to the 101 with these assholes in tow and I'm screaming at the top of my lungs about to cry thinking "oh my god I'm going to die because of this fucking goon." She calls her boyfriend and he's at some park in Tarzana laughing at her, so we end up there and a couple exits before that, we lose these fucking baseball bat wastes of life. Once at the park, Ciji's boyfriend YELLS AT HER because of what happened, even though it was somehow his fault (I don't exactly remember why..don't drink ever.) and instead of going home in a timely manner, I had to sit in the park with this cunt and her boyfriend for 2 hours until she brought me home. In this two hours, the boyfriend just berated, talked down, and shoved Ciji. I guess she deserved it for being such an idiot loser and almost getting us both killed by having a furball for a boyfriend. I held my tongue ever so gracefully.
Shortly after this incident, Ciji dropped out of class and we stopped being friends. That's fine, because I could never be friends with someone who would put my life in danger. Thats just selfish business. Since that day, whenever I drive to my mom's house at night, I'm terrified someone is following me.

Monday, July 7, 2008


I'm backtracking a little, and reminding everyone why it's important to celebrate the American Dream. America is a great, greedy country, and I'll be damned if I don't celebrate its independence every year. This year, this is what I was celebrating and why.

Why? Because it's good.

Because we're overpopulated and it's forcing me to learn more Spanish than I ever intended on.

Even though we haven't been in the playoffs let alone won a Cup for years, this is MY sports team goddammit. While it is a Canadian sport, it's a Los Angeles team. Los Angeles is in America. (but just barely)

If you hate Disneyland you can delete yourself from my life. BAI!. Disneyland rules. Who doesn't love a little fantasy in their lives? I know I do. I can go from being in NOLA to being in Tomorrowland in like, 10 minutes flat. Take all my money please, Disney franchise.

I don't need to tell you why I'm celebrating these three albums, you should already know. And if you don't know, you better ask somebody. Or purchase them. just sayin'. Also, throw Cro-Mags "Age Of Quarrel" into the mix. I was just too lazy to find the cover and upload it.

Food with Integrity? Fuck yeah, I wanna eat food with Integrity. Anyway, Chipotle rules. Whoever god is, he better bless Colorado for having the first Chipotle.