Can we have ONE holiday whereÂ I'mÂ not stuck alone in my house, on the verge of tears, eating my feelings? Apparently not. Halloween was very scary for me. Partially because I had to finally acknowledge that my neighborhood is completely unsafe for children, and partially because I was subjected to Nancy Graceâs cheese wedge bare thighs on Dancing With The Stars. Brrrrgggghhhhaaaâ¦. Nightmares.
I stayed home all evening and waited patiently (read: pathetically) for trick-or-treaters. Got my hopes up (mistake number one) and bought FIVE BAGS of candy (mistake number two). I really shouldâve suspected I wouldnât have many, what with all the drugs and hookers and stabbings and stuff in my neighborhood, but eh, dare to dream! So there I sat. Like an old person whose wheelchair had been positioned by a window for those few precious hours of mandatory sunlight.
I waited. And waited. Hopingâ¦â¦â¦.. for a knock at the door. (Felt like prom night the remix)
About two hours in, I finally got three little trick-or-treaters. Adorable! Two candy corns and a Mario Brother (or maybe two of Lindsay Lohanâs teeth and a Kardashian brother â couldnât really tell).
I gave them the mother load - about a bag of candy a piece. One of the kids ran back to the car and yelled to his mom âTHAT WAS THE BEST HOUSE!!â Haaaaâ¦..yeah buddy - datâs right. Tell your lil friends. You know where to come for the good stuff next year (I just realized thatâs probably the same catch phrase used by the meth dealer down the street. Uh-oh).
So I settled in to watch DWTS. Tried to eat, but lost my appetite when there on my TV screen was death in its rawest form; Nancy Graceâs upper thigh. Â With all due respect to Jason, Freddy, and Chucky â you guys ainât got nuthinâ on those tree stumps. That visual haunts me. Even though Halloween is over, let us be vigilant in our fear. For Nancy Grace is like Freddy Â â Â sheâll get you in your sleep. With a judgmental viciousness, sheâll interrupt you til you pass out and she smothers you to death. Iâm not kidding.
Jiggle-a-jiggle-a-smother-a-smother-aâ¦..hold me. Next holiday, please.
Hey! Devils Night! F#%k you! Woke up this morning to find my car covered in green paint. Adorable little vandals. Ya mischievous scamps…… And it wasn’t just my car - EVERY car on my street! Luckily it froze so I chipped it right off. Hope my neighbors can do the same. I don’t mean to make assumptions, but sommmmmething tells me the perpetrators might be that group of infinitely bored spray can wielding sidewalk dwellers who live on the corner of my block. They flip off old people for no reason and set fire to their own hair. They’re nimrods.
So yeah, I’m upset that this happened, but my BIGGEST annoyance is that someone could actually find this funny. I’m a pretty open-minded person when it comes to humor (I submit as evidence my heroin addicted mouse encounter), but I don’t get the punch line in covering another person’s car with paint.
Here’s my theory in regards to people who genuinely take pleasure in the pain or suffering of another person: they're scum. Teasing and joking are one thing, but once you cross that line into truly hurtful, you've relinquished your rights to fair and humane treatment from the rest of us.
There was this kid in my elementary school who used to pick on a girl with special needs, til one day she almost cried. So in front of everybody on the bus I pointed out that he had crooked yellow teeth and that his dad was an unemployed alcoholic. He acted shocked and hurt. He was like “I can’t believe you just said that!” Under normal circumstances, I would’ve felt bad. But I didn’t. I told him I could keep going (and I wanted to; his mom had three kids with three different guys – I’d been stockpiling slutty mom jokes since the first day this bunghole started teasing that other girl) but I held back. Thankfully he never bothered her again. Still, to this day I’m sure he hates my guts. Meh.
So if I find out who pulled this paint prank, I am SO going Count of Monte Cristo with my revenge!! I don’t know what I’ll do (oh who am I kidding - probably nothing), but it’s fun to imagine. Even MORE fun to finally have an excuse to sit on my porch all afternoon with a paintball gun.
Sometimes I close my eyes and imagine I’m on a tropical beach somewhere, sipping mai tais and using the word “fabulous” to describe everything. In this fantasy, I have a gold-encrusted bikini and a killer tan. And I’m surrounded by people who laugh hysterically at all my jokes. In real life, I’m in Wilkes Barre PA, my co-workers seldom get my sarcastic humor, I wear SPF 50, and a gold-encrusted bikini would probably burn my hoo-ha. Guh....Itchy. But it’s fun to imagine, isn’t it?
I also like to imagine the original lineup of Guns n’ Roses getting back together. Another fantasy that will never come true. Guns n’ Roses is my all-time FAVORITE band. I got a rose tattoo on my stomach the day I turned eighteen….. It’s an “Axl Rose”. I know. Stupid….played. But hey, I was eighteen. Could’ve been a locomotive. Could’ve been a November raindrop. Could’ve been a rocket queen. My point: could’ve been sooooooo much dumber. So leave me alone.
I got my GnR tickets for the big show at Mohegan Sun Arena November 20 and I am officially PSYCHED! I’ve been getting a little flak from other diehard Guns fans because I honestly don’t give a crap that Axl’s the only ORIGINAL member on this tour. Big whoop. He was the main songwriter – we all know this. And yes, it sucks ass that they can’t reconcile, but much like we are never again gonna see Meg Ryan’s original face, we must come to terms with these new developments and move on.
Sure, it’s not the same. But it’s still AWESOME.
I’ve been in a rock band myself, and I know first hand how things can go south between band members. Of course, this is different in my case because we made little to no money and had little to no success. The only way we were getting booked at the state fair is if we joined 4-H. But I digress. I just mean to say I have equal sympathy for BOTH sides.
I would LOVE to see Slash, Duff, Izzy, and Steven onstage with Axl again, but let’s be real. GnR is gonna kick ass no matter what! Because those songs are timeless. And Axl’s bigger than life (which is also why he’s a complete f%#king whackadoo). But I love him. I put Kanye in the same category: you’re crazy, but you’re a genius and I love you. Crazy/talented/genius. I’m lucky if I get weird/slow-witted/follower.
So I hope to see you at Mohegan Sun Arena November 20! I’ll bring my 4-H pig. Name’s “Wiggly”. You can pet him. And if you see me down front, I’ll be the girl spazzing out to every song, trying to use my radio station laminates to get backstage (and by “radio station laminates”, of course I mean boobs).
Three things I love about fall: leaves changing, spiced cider, and going to pick pumpkins with my privates exposed. Itâs like Grandma used to say: âIf the families at the pumpkin patch didnât wanna see your vulva, they shouldâve thought of that before they left the house.â â¦â¦.wait â what?
Check out that photo. WHO THE HELL WEARS THIS TO A PUBLIC PUMPKIN-PICKING PATCH? (I like alliteration â can you tell?) Perhaps this girl thought it was the âpubicâ pumpkin patch. Either way, when we can see your patchâ¦..your shorts are too short. Tip of the iceberg as far as this photoâs concerned.
In case youâre wondering â this is Courtney Stodden and Doug Hutchison (the 51 year-old creepenstein actor who married the 17 year-old fruitcake degenerate wannabe country singer). They showed up at a Hollywood Hills pumpkin patch over the weekend, and proceeded to passionately make out and strike various poses. Shockingly enough, PEOPLE COMPLAINED! I know â prudes, right?! I mean,Â folks should realize that when they bring their children to a public family place, thereâs a good chance they might see a horny couple fornicating.
After several angry parents lodged complaints with the owners, Courtney and Doug were told to leave. Booooo! Poor things. Now they are horny AND pumpkinless. I am troubled by this. They were OBVIOUSLY profiled, because no one else got asked to leave that day - all THEYÂ did was show love. And isnât that what the holidays are all about? Love? Gross, inappropriate, disrespectful to your surroundings love?
Courtneyâs parents say people are out to get her because theyâre just jealous of how beautiful she is. Theyâre right. I know IâM jealous. I wish I had such a vast expanse of mental vacancy that I could show up at a family-themed business, dressed like a porn fluffer, and dry hump my wrinkly perv husband while children watched and see absolutely no problem with this. That would be suuuuuper. Cuz thinking is SUCH a drag.
Lemme know how I can make that happen. Til that day, Iâll sit here stewing in my hateful jealousy. Drowning in common sense. WrithingÂ in respect for my fellow humans. Poor Lissa.
I got this phone call from my big brother Jason a year ago today:
Bro: Hey Sis! Whatâre you up to?
Me: Eatinâ pizza. Watchinâ Joe Dirtâ¦..You?
Bro: Well, I just happen to be holding your brand new BABY NEPHEW!!
Me: AAAA! (tears commence, like the violent bursting of a water balloon)â¦.And? Is he healthy? Is he okay? Is Sara okay?
Bro: Everybodyâs great. Heâs beautiful. His nameâs Benjamin Nathaniel.
Me: Oh, I LOVE IT! Oh, thank you God! Thank you God, thank you God, thank you Godâ¦(picture me doing this for about another hour and a half, crying, spouting sentence fragments, generally blubbering like an idiot â Iâm pretty sure my brother was able to set down the phone, go make a sandwich, and come back without me even noticing).
And now, as we celebrate Benjaminâs ONE YEAR BIRTHDAY, I am at a loss for words as to how to describe the immeasurable joy heâs brought to our family. Heâs perfection. I love him more than I ever thought I could love ANYBODY. So I ask that you bear with me, because here come a diaper load of photos from the weekend. Iâm SO happy my entire family could be together for this: my folks drove out from Michigan , we all met up at the broâs house in New York , and misterâ¦â¦ we partied like Playskool.
After I rid myself of the mouse problem, I decided it was time to tackle my NEXT big infestation: the shoe closet. I don’t know how many of you ladies have this issue, but apparently I black out when I shoe shop. I purchase footwear I don’t need and then collapse in a pile of slingbacks and espadrilles, only to awaken drooly and woozy, remorseful for what I’ve done.
My closet has no less than EIGHT pairs of spiky platform stiletto heels – all over six inches tall! Not kidding. I’ve worn exactly two pairs. One for a photo shoot, and one for a costume party. So basically, I only care about being sexy if I'm getting photographed or pretending to be someone else. How telling. After each experience I wanted to kill myself and be buried in a fleece-lined moccasin. So why do I keep buying these things? Am I stocking up for the inevitable day my DJ career goes in the pooper and I hafta turn tricks to pay bills? Hopefully not. Am I afraid there’ll be another Northeast Pennsylvania flood and I’m VERY concerned about my heels being much much dryer than my toes? Do I think I’ll be accosted by Playboy photographers, begging to take my impromptu picture, but ONLY if I can prove I’m centerfold material by brandishing slut shoes and boycotting the usage of three syllable words? Or am I just crazy?
I think we all know the answer.
No chick needs this many stilettos. Correction: no chick WHO IS ALREADY 5’7” AND ISN’T A HOOKER needs this many stillettos! So I gave away five pair. I tried not to offend my girlfriend when I offered them to her – cuz how do you say to somebody “Hey! I think you’re trampy enough to wear these on a regular basis! Could you give ‘em the mileage they deserve?”
But actually, she was thrilled. She’s only 5’2”. And doesn’t have any extra money for hoochie shoes – so there ya go.
A good deed was done. A closet was purged. And my ten little piggies breathed a humungous sigh of relief. But I reserve the right to whip out at least ONE remaining pair for Halloween (aka Slutty Girl Christmas). Cuz it’s supposed to be a scary holiday. And if you can think of anything scarier than trying to walk whilst under the influence of alcohol and wearing six inch hooker heels, fire away. Unless you’re Stephen King, you ain’t got sh!t.
It’s bad enough that in the last week I’ve seen a hypodermic needle, a broken gin bottle, and a used condom all on my sidewalk. NOW….. I caught a MOUSE in my house! Ewwww!!! What if the mouse is responsible for all that crap on my sidewalk? What if I just caught myself a giant heroin addicted, drunken, slut mouse? If so - sweet. Problem solved.
I swear to God sometimes my neighborhood is a testing grounds for sociological experimentation. It’s like “how many ghetto stereotypes can we cram into a five block radius?” What’s a normal neighborhood? Ten or fifteen? If so, I think we can crack thirty! Yeah! We're number one!!
But now in addition to my enchanting human potpourri, I’ve got VERMIN! Yay!
I freaked out when I first saw this mouse Friday afternoon. I was supposed to be napping, but I couldn’t sleep knowing he was near me. I set four mouse traps and proceeded to lie there awake (with the covers carefully piled on top of me so they didn’t dangle off the bed) til I heard a *SNAP*!!
I ran over to check it. Sure enough, dead mouse. Happy Lissa. Kay. But then……ohhhhh then…..um….who’s gonna dispose of this thing? I texted my dad – “Daddy!!! I just killed a mouse in a snappy trap! When will you be over to collect him?” Of course I was being foolish cuz my parents live in Michigan, and they’re obviously not driving to PA just so their nutjob daughter doesn’t hafta touch a mouse trap. But he texted right back “Ha – on my way”. Oooo. Smartass.
My mom texted a couple “Fred Bear” references (wouldn’t Nugent be proud?) and told me to just throw away the whole trap, mouse and all. So that’s what I did. I put on rubber gloves, used plastic tongs to pick the damn thing up, and threw it in the trash. Then I threw out the tongs AND the gloves and placed my trash immediately on the curb. I’m still having trouble sleeping in my house. Varmints gimme the heebie jeebies! I can’t shake the feeling that they’re setting up little villages in my walls. A whole colony of heroin addicted drunken slut mice. Ah well, at least they’re quieter than the human ones.
One of the best movie quotes ever: “I once thought I had mono for an entire year. Turns out I was just really bored." –Wayne Campbell (aka Mike Myers) in Wayne’s World.
I’m stuck between a rock and a kidney stone here. I have friend who’s convinced she’s got some sort of life threatening disease. She’s one of these “look up my symptoms on the internet and diagnose myself” people. Problem is, she does this in lieu of ever going to a REAL doctor. And she tends to believe everything she reads. So far, she’s typed her symptoms into the computer and this is what came back: she MAY have irritable bowel syndrome, ulcer, pregnancy, cancer, stomach flu, constipation, food poisoning, appendicitis, involuntary bowel spasm (WTF?), urinary tract infection, or gastroenteritis…...um, ew.
WHAT IF SHE HAS ALL OF THEM??? AAAA!! Her poor unborn baby (cuz she’s “pregnant”, remember?) is swimming in a sea of infected stomach acid and wondering why mommy hasn’t pooped in a fortnight! Oh my stars!
I firmly believe she’s got a normal, run-of-the-mill, upset stomach. Caused mainly by stress. And the fact that she eats fast food 4-5 times a week, doesn’t exercise, sleeps maaaaybe four hours a night, and has a husband who seems adamantly opposed to finding gainful employment and/or bathing. But what do I know? And how do I tell her this?
I don’t want to insult her. She’s not stupid, I swear. But I think she’s overlooking the obvious. If she made a few lifestyle tweaks, I think her upset tum-tum would be fine. If not, THIS IS WHEN YOU CALL A REAL DOCTOR! Not a web guy. Web guys are largely virgins who are mad at the rest of us for getting laid. This is why they lie on Wikipedia - so we’ll quote that crap at dinner parties and get laughed at.
I’m willing to issue an apology if she ends up going to a normal physician and finding out that she DOES in fact have each of the ailments listed above. But, sadly, I will also plan her funeral that day. Cuz she is one sick puppy! Seriously, don’t let your computer replace common sense. Why would you give yourself involuntary bowel spasm (ergh) when it might just be a virus? HA! Get it?! VIRUS! Computer?! Virus?! Ummmm…..yeah. Sorry. These jokes are much funnier if you don’t have a stomach gremlin.
Oktoberfest at Genettiâs tonight! Weâre all gonna be there partying by 5pm. Iâm in desperate search for a German Beermaid outfit - I love to go all out! Know anyone who has one of these? Iâd just need it for one night, then I'll give it right back! If you know where I could get one, emailÂ me - THANKS! See you there!
And now....my second question of the day: do YOU think Beyonce is faking her pregnancy, and instead using a surrogate? This footage surfaced on TMZ from Sunday night. Notice near the end, her baby bump appears to fold in half. Um, I don't think they're supposed to do that. I can't decide whether it's the cut of the dress or a giant Fox Mulder babyonce conspiracy. You tell me....
Okay, Christina Aguileraâ¦.I love you, but two words: long pants. I cannot believe how much her look has deteriorated in the last few years. And Iâm not talking about the extra weight â thereâs a way to dress a curvy body type. But THISâ¦..is not it. She performed at the Michael Jackson Tribute concert, where apparently they had no mirrors. (Iâm sorry to hit you with this on a Monday, but I felt it was an urgent matter we had toÂ addressâ¦..or, um, RE-dressâ¦)
Now, on to happier things! We raised over $3,600 for The American Cancer Society with our annual âBras Across The Bridgeâ event on Saturday â thank you EVERYONE who came out! And thanks to my girl Cami Kyttle for sharing her photos. You take great pics, babe!
We also had a blast at Fork & The Cork at Mohegan Sun Casino â THANK YOU, IGourmet, for a fabulous night!
When I was a little kid, my family used to fish a lot. It always bothered me to bait my own hook when the minnow or worm was still alive. Dead minnows didn’t bother me at all, but something about stabbing a tiny helpless organism with a rusty hook and watching it wriggle…..blech….nasty.
Notice the hypocritical aspect of that statement, considering we were baiting the aforementioned hooks only to CATCH helpless little organisms (ala perch, whitefish, trout ) and EAT them……but my point is this: I remember distinctly my brothers never being grossed out baiting their own hooks. Nor was my dad. My mom and I are the only two people in my immediate family who’ve EVER uttered the word “ew” .
Why is it that boys just have a higher gross-out tolerance than girls? You notice it first at random moments throughout your childhood – like in the elementary school cafeteria, when ALL the boys are chewing with their mouths open. None of them lose their appetite staring at each other. They all just act like they don’t notice. Even when chunks of food fall out and hit the table. MMM! Num, num, num, REGIRGITATER TOTS!
I noticed yesterday that my neighbors (three young GUYS) have taken to putting their trash out on the porch. I don’t mean bagged-up, ready to go, yay for trash day “out on the porch” – I mean they’ve got two big plastic bins of……garbage. Just sitting there. On the porch. And this doesn’t bother them…..because boys are nasty.
Now, I know this may strike you as a bit of a SURPRISE, but my area of Wilkes Barre isn’t the most upscale (I know - put your eyebrows back down). I mean, we don’t need HELP looking skanky.
I’m disgusted by this exposed trash situation, and I’m wondering if it’s okay to say something. Especially since it’s pretty much just fast food wrappers and half-eaten pizzas – what if we get VARMINTS?! I go to work at like 3am! I’m gonna come face to face with a skunk eating Taco Bell some morning and I’ll have no idea what to do!!!!!! Plus, it makes our whole neighborhood look junky. Maybe I should just bag it up myself and let them believe the trash fairy came……maybe they’ll take the hint…..can you tell I don’t like confrontation?
I GOT RECOGNIZED IN THE POST OFFICE YESTERDAY!!! But not for being me. For being somebody else. And not somebody nice (apparently). I was walking toward the exit and these two girls behind me yelled “You should be at home with your KIDS, b*tch!”
So naturally I turned to see who they were yelling at. Um…..yeah, they were staring right at me. So I’m like “Are you talking to me?”….. They both just glared. I swear to God I thought it was a joke at first.
The girl who yelled crossed her arms and got the most hateful look on her face – she stared me down and started this tirade about how “….YOU need to be at home with your kids instead of comin' around Kevin's house….”
I started waving my hand back and forth, cutting her off – I’m like “whoa, whoa, whoa….” As I reached into my purse and produced an I.D., I said “MY name is ‘Melissa’. I don’t know who you think I am, but I’ve never met you. I don’t know who the hell Kevin is either, but you OBVIOUSLY have the wrong person.”
Not even kidding, she THEN turns to the girl she’s with and goes “Sh*t, it’s not even her.” Then they walked away. Didn’t APOLOGIZE to me, didn’t explain themselves, didn’t even acknowledge my PRESENCE after that – nothing. It was the most surreal experience.
So now I can’t stop thinking about it. Should I have acted more offended? Should I have demanded an apology? For some reason, methinks the type of woman who would boisterously YELL OUT in the post office might not be the type who’s so incredibly generous with her apologies. Call me crazy. Guess I’ll just let it go. But whoever “Kevin” is……dude’s got his hands full.
How do you say this to your kid........."It’s not that your dad doesn't WANT you, it’s just that he wanted to have sex with your mom and then not PAY for you"……you can't say that in a nice way, can you? I read on TMZ this morning that Edward Furlong is a deadbeat dad. Yep, the kid from Terminator 2. He grew up to father a child (and actually have numerous run-ins with the law - some of them involving narcotics, one of them involving a lobster freed from a public tank – I STILL think there’s more to that story…) but now he apparently doesn’t wanna pay for his child. This comes on the heels of Corey Feldman being in the news for ALSO not wanting to pay for his child.
Excuse me for saying this, but I think deadbeat parents are the lowest form of human life – somewhere on the species chart between amoebas and frogs.
What is WITH these losers? And WHY is it so easy for some people to get out of paying? For instance, in Feldman’s case, he was only ordered to pay his ex $307 a month because they base it on income, and he reported his income as only $1387 monthly. But the MOTHER still has to pay for health coverage, medical expenses, food, clothing, etc. – it’s not like the child’s tab stops running at $307 just because that’s ALL his dad makes, right? So how is that fair? The MOM has to make up the difference!
Also, how the hell is he getting away with reporting his income as only $1387 a month? You’re Corey Freakin’ Feldman – find a job! If you can’t get any acting work, are there no Walmarts where you live? Get a (gasp) “real” job! Do whatever it takes to cover YOUR share of your kid! FYI – that share would be 50%.
Now, I know what you’re thinking: Lissa, you’re not a parent. You’re not famous. You’re not affected by deadbeat dads in any way whatsoever. This is true. But I was a kid once. And I was lucky (still am) because I have an awesome dad who works really hard. I can’t imagine what it would feel like to be the kid of a deadbeat dad (or deadbeat mom, cuz Lordy knows there are THOSE too), cuz you would obviously catch on that your parent is a loser. All I can say is – if you’re one of those kids, don’t take it personally.
Just remember that YOU have the power to put your deadbeat parent into one of those skanky cheap nursing homes when they get old. Do that. They're so worried about being "frugal"? Show them you are too. Might I suggest that place they investigated on “60 Minutes”? You know the one…..with the tainted bed sheets and the “pudding stains”…..yep…..ohhhh man, I hope Corey Feldman is reading this. You thought that old lady in “Goonies” was creepy, Corey?
Wait’ll ya see the nurses at The Deadbeat Diaper Dome. Loser.
I’ve always wanted to track my family on one of those “ancestry dot com” things. Here’s why I don’t: I’m afraid I’ll start digging in the family lineage and somehow find some Civil War era black & white photo of a crazy-eyed chick in a Scarlett O’Hara dress with my EXACT FACE……. She’ll be labeled “Crazy Cousin Edna” and she’ll be noted as the “one they had to chain to the wood shed”.
See, that’s what they did with “special” people back then. Whenever they thought you were a little weird (or mentally off kilter), they’d just chain you to something or lock you somewhere. Bam. Gone. Outta site, outta mind.
I submit to you that this is not a terrible system. I think we should reinstate it (hear me out), but only when you're temporarily ill and you're being a pansy. I had the supreme displeasure of being stuck with myself in the house for the last two days because I’ve had the flu, and lemme tell ya - I am miserable company! I never realized what my mother (and brothers and father) must’ve went through when I had mono, because even as an ADULT I’m a whiny, pansy-ass baby. Mom used to make me soup and let me set up camp on the couch when I was ill. She’d perch on the edge of the sofa and pat my head as I read comic books and watched Fraggle Rock. I soooo badly wanted to do this yesterday. Instead, I just placed several pathetic, rambly, pointless calls to my mom TELLING her how pitiful I felt, and how I wished she were there. Oooo yeah, I bet she wishes too!
I really do applaud my mom for not chaining me to the wood shed (and not JUST when I was sick). A lesser woman might not have been so patient.
Today, I am pleased to announce that I’m feeling much better! Done being miserable, done being whiny. For the record, NEXT time, you ALL have permission to lock me somewhere. Or inside something. I wouldn't blame you. Because I am a draaaaaag to be around. I admit it. I own it. I look forward to future generations searching me on ancestry dot com and seeing “Crazy Cousin Lissa” with her femur strapped to a radiator and this confused look on her face. Yep, that should scar my grandchildren for life. And this pleases me. See, feeling better all the time……..
Harvey was a dull man. His personality was often compared to a jar of mayo that’d been left in the sun. Not particularly fond of jokes, never one to laugh out loud, Harvey hated social gatherings almost as much as he hated children and small dogs. Harvey was often in bed by nine and had a strange affinity for khaki pants and ginger ale. He spent most weekends alone, talking to his Lord Of The Rings dolls and playing solitaire (the lame version, not the computer version....which is also quite lame…..)
This is what a boring person’s obituary might look like. This is what I’m afraid they’ll write about me if I ever say no to ANY invitation. For this reason alone, I find it physically impossible to decline when my friends wanna hang out. Lissa, ya wanna go for a run after work? Sure. Lissa, ya wanna go to a movie? Sure. Lissa, ya wanna go lick the all the toilets at Grand Central Station and then dance the watoosie on a homeless guy’s cardboard slab? Hell, why not.
I actually broke the cycle last night and DECLINED an invitation! Three of them, to be exact. I’m VERY proud of myself for doing so. I’ve been feeling like I’m getting sick for the last 3-4 days, so when I got these voicemails yesterday inviting me out for happy-drinky-funtimes, this little voice popped up in my head (sounded JUST like Mom - weird) that said “You don’t wanna do that. You don’t wanna feel like doodyballs tomorrow, do you?”
By the way, my mom would never say “doodyballs”. My conscience is far more ribald than Mother would ever dream of being.
But I am SO proud of myself that I said NO! Cuz I feel good today! No hangover, no scratchy throat, no cottonmouth mixed with remorse. So pleased am I with my exemplary fortitude, that I’m rewarding myself by going out TONIGHT! Haaa………what? Come party with me and my girls at Scranton Hardware Bar! I’ll be the chick in the half shirt with the look of self-satisfaction. SMUG self-satisfaction. Because I have extremely good judgment...... I don’t know why you’re shaking your head right now…..
My nephew Benjamin took his first steps yesterday! I canât believe I missed it! Actually, I can totally believe I missed it. He lives in Saratoga Springs, New Yorkâ¦â¦ I live here. I miss a lot of stuff. Drives me crazy!
It leads me to ask â what do PARENTS do when they miss stuff like this? I mean, Iâm his aunt and Iâm going bonkers cuz I missed two freaking steps! Parents who work must have it a million times worse!
When youâre in your office breakroom today, and youâre accosted by a coworker who wonât shut up about their hernia surgery or their cat with the personality disorder â remember this: someone ELSE is listening to this crap AND missing their kidâs first steps. Maybe. Or perhaps their kidâs first word. ANY parent that you work with, at any given time, is missing something beautiful and unrepeatable when it comes to their children. I just got that. And I will forever have sympathy for parents because of this. Makes me wanna throw myself on the grenade and be like âYou â go call your family. IâLL sit here and listen to Charlieâs story about the disgusting hernia AND his schizophrenic catâ¦..just go call your kids and tell them you love them.â
As a single person (who is also childlessâ¦â¦I thinkâ¦.yep) I feel I owe it to the breeders to withstand the brutal torture of coworkerÂ cafeteria talk, as long as you PROMISE to call your kids whilst Iâm having these inane little conversations. Deal? Good. There.... I feel like I just helped my fellow man. But so help me GOD, if the word âoozingâ pops upâ¦.
I actually don’t know if this was racist, or rude, or maybe just plain weird…… tell me what YOU think:
I was riding in the car with a friend of mine the other day. Twas a beautiful sunny Wilkes Barre afternoon (see, in theater, we call this “setting the stage”)…..we passed a playground. There’s a group of about a dozen kids (varied in age and race) running, jumping, sliding, tottering, doing their adorable kid thing – precious! My friend turns to me, and (almost as if one of the children prompted her to say this) she goes: “I’ve always thought black kids were waaaay cuter than white kids.”
Um…..arrrrrighty then. To the average person that might seem like a fairly harmless (albeit strange) comment, but sitting in the back seat of the car WERE HER TWO WHITE KIDS!!!! So I didn’t ask any follow up questions (even though I wanted to) because I was afraid she’d be compelled to repeat the aforementioned sentence. Then I’d be forced to explain to the children that “Mommy’s cuckoo. She’d display your class portraits much more prominently if you both had better tans. Hang your heads in shame.” Thankfully, I don’t think they heard her. They were busy playing with their Happy Meal toys.
So….what do we think?
Racist? Not really. Rude? Perhaps. Odd? DEFINITELY. But these are the type of people I’m friends with. THIS is why I can turn to her, and without fear of reprisal, say things like “Why do edible panties come in chocolate? Who would ever wanna eat THAT?” and I know she won’t judge me. Not at all. She’ll just look at me and nod with thoughtful consideration, like good question Lissa..... No it’s not. It’s an asinine question. Don’t encourage me. We’re both morons who need hobbies.
I’m dying to know if I’m the only one who thought that was weird…..
There’s a reason Jimmie Dean uses planets in their commercials to advertise breakfast sandwiches. Planets don’t have heart attacks. People do. It makes me laugh when advertising companies try to spin something so obviously bad for us into being “tasty and energizing”. Like those cartoon kids who get all jacked up when their parents give them chocolate chip Pop Tarts. They high-five their cartoon mom and skip out the door like they’re on speed or something. I can tell you quite honestly: I love my mother very much, and she made me numerous delectable breakfast meals during my tenure as a child – never ONCE did I high five her and skip out the door. Because I’m not a spastic dolt. If your kid’s getting THAT excited about a breakfast pastry, methinks it might be time for a trip to Six Flags.
See, this is why I could never work in marketing. I’d be the one making fake defibrillator sounds at the pitch meeting for Jimmie Dean Breakfast Sandwiches, and everyone at the corporate level would hate my guts. I simply can’t lie. I can’t say something’s good when I know it’s not.
I got put into this situation over the weekend. People CONSTANTLY send me homemade music, whether they’re in an unsigned band or it’s a singer/songwriter situation. I think they assume that since I’m a radio personality AND a musician, I’ll help them get on the radio…….. Iy-yi-yi….. If only it were that simple, folks. I won’t bore you with the “proper channels” of music, but suffice to say – it’s the equivalent of an invasive colon exam for your soul. Don’t do it. And don’t send people stuff unless they ask for it. Got that?
I know it’s hard. I’m a musician – I get it. You wanna share your music with the world. Cool! Do that. But do it by playing awesome live shows, writing quality songs, and building a fanbase from the ground up.
I should mention that sometimes, even when you DO all those things, you STILL might get overlooked. There’s a distinct possibility that you’ll end up jaded, burnt out, and playing in a Pink Floyd cover band for sixteen people at “Dirty Gertie’s Roadside Tavern”. Why? Because the world is effed up. And usually the exceptionally talented people are overshadowed by the easily commercialized, idiotic poser people, who had the benefit of truckloads of free time and disgustingly rich parents. I’m sorry. It’s tragedy. But it’s truth. THIS is why you should always be doing your music simply for the love of music - NOT for fame or attention. Because even if you DO go through the proper channels and you’re amazingly talented, there’s STILL a very good chance that you’ll remain an independent artist for the rest of your existence. Come to terms now. If it helps, eat a chocolate chip Pop Tart as you read this. Chocolate is like aloe for broken dreams.
As an independent artist (and proud to be among the ranks) I can tell you – IT AIN’T SO BAD!! Nobody tells you what to wear, you get to write whatever’s in your heart, and ALL your gig money goes to you! Just have FUN! Play for the love of playing, and definitely fight the urge to cold-send your product to people (like me). It’s a dead giveaway that you’re a rookie. And kind of an annoying rookie. Instead, invite me to your show!!! Tell me two or three artists you kind of “sound like” and mention that you’ve written ten or fifteen songs that really mean the world to you. THAT would draw me in. Even better if there’s free Jimmie Dean breakfast sandwiches.
Sorry to be long-winded, but I'm very passionate about this. Send me your music at your own risk - if I think it sucks, I'll tell you. If I think it's amazing, I'll tell you. But I'm of VERY little benefit to you either way. Think about it: do you reeeeeally think a girl with duct tape on her car and third billing on a morning radio show in Scranton, PA is your leg up in the industry? Hm. Guess there's some additional evidence that more musicians should seriously consider college.
Okay, so when I got the text from Rocky last night saying that Michaele Salahi (White House party crasher) and Neal Schon (guitarist from Journey) had hooked up and run off together, I didn’t wanna believe it. I love Neal Schon. Rocky knows this. And he takes a sick subtle pleasure in ribbing me every time one of my 80’s rock icons does something stupid (which is pretty often….. note to Vince Neil – QUIT GETTING DUIs AND BEATING WOMEN UP!)
So Michaele has apparently glommed onto Neal, leaving her somewhat shlubby and hysterical husband Tareq to fend for himself. Tareq, meanwhile, assumed she was abducted by vicious, nunchuck-wielding terrorists (as if anyone cares enough about her to formulate an actual “kidnap plot”) and he placed several weepy, rambling, frantic calls to authorities BEGGING them to search for his wife. Turns out, she was sitting front row at a Journey concert staring dreamy-eyed at Mister Schon, singing “I’ll be all right withouuuuut youuuu…….um, YOU, Tareq. I meant you.”
I mean, come ON, is there a bigger hosebag on the PLANET than this woman?! Who DOES that to somebody? That’s even worse than K-Fed leaving poor knocked up Shar Jackson to go inseminate Britney!
And now all my favorite Journey songs are ruined – thanks Neal! They’ve been transformed into easy punchlines (aww, Tareq & Michaele had to go their “Separate Ways”…..”Who’s Crying Now”?)….. I just don’t know how you could ever trust a person after they’ve treated their former spouse so cruelly. Neal, listen to me, man – you’d better sleep with one eye open! Cuz Journey & Nightranger are on tour together right now, and while you might THINK she’s at the merch booth buying a “Sister Christian” hoodie, she’ll probably be on the tour bus showing everybody “the secret of her success”.
Once a cheater, always a cheater. Once a fame whore, always a fame whore. Neither are good qualities. I hope she gets what’s coming to her. Something incredibly crappy….. like a Steve Perry solo CD.
It’s like Grandma used to say: “Make sure you practice often because you never know when a big-ass flood is gonna hit your area, make you evacuate, and force you to be away from your piano for a few days.”
Okay, so Grandma never said that. But when I’M a Grandma – I will. I’m only finally now getting back in my house and getting some semblance of order restored in my Wilkes Barre ghetto pad. Most of my stuff is fine, a little flooding in the basement but overall no big damage. I was doing major cleanup in West Pittston all day yesterday, so after seeing how bad THOSE people have it, I will NOT be complaining! Ever.
I performed for “PA Live” on WBRE on Monday (the new show every weekday at 4pm with Dave Kuharchik & Monica Madeja) and I was stressing out hardcore prior to the show for TWO reasons: First, I’ve never done TV before. Second, when the flood hit, I was forced to evacuate. So not only does that mean I couldn’t practice, but I didn’t even know if my piano and the rest of my equipment would survive the flood! BUT….I think it turned out okay.
I love that Rocky kept putting up-to-the-minute photos in his blog and kept updating his Facebook, even throughout the worst of the flooding. Such valor. I, conversely, chose to weep. I called my friends, pathetically packed an overnight bag, and proceeded to wallow in self-pity because I was being evacuated. Hey, different people cope in different ways. I'm a bit of a puss.
I feel like one of those idiots who gets mugged and they’re being interviewed on the news later, trying to act all calm & cool about it, like they’re actually GRATEFUL it didn’t end in death - “yeah, he got my wallet, but at least he didn’t hurt me! My personal safety is intact! Whew!” (and then they look at the camera guy with some fake expression of relief)….when really, they’re thinking “DAMMIT! This sucks! Why did I get mugged today?! I don’t deserve this crap! Why doesn’t this happen to the ugly people?! What a poopy sitch!”….or something like that.
I mean, I’m trying to be tough here. I know it’s just a flood. And I know a lot of people have it worse than me (hi West Pittston, Tunkhannock, Bloomsburg, Duryea, etc) but it’s just really difficult. My house is partially drenched, some of my stuff DID get ruined, I’m still evacuated, and I actually had some pretty amazing plans this weekend that may now be shat upon. I’m blue.
I take no comfort in knowing that several other people have it WORSE than me. That just makes me feel bad for THEM. Here’s me: “DAMMIT! This sucks! Why did West Pittston get mugged?! THEY don’t deserve this crap! Why doesn’t this happen to the ugly towns?! What a poopy sitch!”
I don’t get it. It makes no sense. All we can do is hug, cry a bit, pray for each other, and help whenever we see an opportunity.
ON THE BRIGHT SIDE…….I just found a pack of gum that I didn’t realize was in my bag. It’s peppermint. We’re also supposed to get sunshine today (insert woo-hoo). AND we might be allowed back in our Wilkes Barre houses by Saturday instead of Sunday! It’s looking up, you guys. It alllllll starts with attitude. And gum. If anybody needs gum – I gotchya ;) ..........BTW - I just realized I sound like a tremendous douchenstein saying the phrase "poopy sitch". Sounds like a cast member from Jersey Shore has messed himself. I will not be using this phrase again.....
I don’t know what’s worse: couples who hack into each others’ email, Facebook, cell phones, etc, or couples who claim they’re SURPRISED at what they find once they get in there. A friend of mine just confessed to me that she hacked into her boyfriend’s Facebook. SPOILER ALERT: she found messages. He’s been flirting hardcore with other girls and now they’re breaking up. Shocker of the century, right?
My question to her: “Well, what the hell did you expect to find?”
I mean, when you hack into someone’s private whatever-the-hell, it’s because you already think they’re up to something, no? So why not just break up with them? I don’t understand people who would suspect their partner to be cheating and still wanna be with that person.
When I was with my ex (and no, this wasn’t why I broke up with him – it's just example of his “quirky madcap antics”) he went through my phone to read my text messages. Me, being the naïve idiot, caught him looking through the phone and assumed he just needed to make a call. So I was like “Dude, what happened to your phone? Is it broken? You can just keep mine for the day if you want.” And he goes “Maybe I will……”in this really weird suspicious tone. And I (continuing to be the doofy moron) just nodded and went “Ooookey doke.”
So he kept it. For about an hour.
After that hour, he tossed it back to me and was asking “who’s so-and-so?” and “why do you have appointments saved that I didn’t know about?” blah blah, blah…..and I explained that so-and-so was my gynecologist and the appointment was my yearly physical, and the OTHER dude/appointment was our carpet cleaning guy………then there was a long pause……. and an awkward ”oh”. My boyfriend almost seemed DISAPPOINTED that he didn’t find me cheating. I, on the other hand, felt violated and furious.
My question (to him and to EVERYONE who pulls this random covert crap) is: if you even THOUGHT someone was cheating on you, WHY wouldn’t you just break up with them? It’s obviously not working. Does it actually make you feel better to have a specific INCIDENT on which to hang your hat? Maybe it does. If so, proceed. But be warned – you may hack in and find NOTHING. And then the tables will have completely turned. And you’ll look like the insecure doofy idiot who’s interrogating his girlfriend about carpet cleaners and gynecologists. (Psst – the carpet cleaner will help her tidy the crime scene after she kills you for being a suspicious douche. And the gyno? Well, if I have to explain that one…..)
Is there a LESS sexy vehicle than the fake wood paneled van? Has anyone ever picked up chicks in one of these things? I mean, besides the obvious rapist/kidnapper? I’m not so sure we, as humans, DESERVE to be at the top of the food chain when we’re responsible for such atrocities as the wood paneled van. Equally abhorrent: the all-u-can-eat buffet. It’s essentially a trough in which they place an assortment of solids and urge you to gorge yourself like cattle until you’ve had ALL you can eat. Not “enough” to eat…….ALL you can eat!!! Stuff your gullet til you refund, tubby!
When I lived on the border, there were certain things we would joke about in regards to both Canadians and Americans. Canadians were known as (in the joking community) polite, hockey crazed, pale, insecure hosers who were jealous of the U.S. – Americans were thought to be loud, rude, fat, and self-absorbed. Equally exaggerated stereotypes, sure. But equally funny, because at the foundation of every joke there was a nugget of truth.
Something I’ve learned since I moved to Northeast Pennsylvania a year ago is that most people who grew up here think this place is “small town”. I usually get the following reaction when I tell people I came here from Michigan: “Good Gawd - WHY?” Haaa…..why not? EVERY place has small minded people. EVERY place has awesome open minded people. And this place has an abundance of TALENTED PEOPLE!!! Believe me, even with my limited experience of the local music scene here in NEPA, I am very impressed with what I see. “Concert For A Cause” blew me away. When I hosted and played at “Women Who Rock” I couldn’t BELIEVE the caliber of talent on that roster! And now…..
We have “The Steamtown Original Music Showcase”!! This weekend. I know I’ve been going on and on about this event for weeks, but it’s only because I TRULY believe we have unbelievable musicians here. Go support them. Don’t be one of the closed-minded idiots who never appreciates anything new. BE DIFFERENT! LOVE WHAT’S ORIGINAL!!!!! HELL, DRIVE A WOOD PANELED VAN IF YOU WANT!! Kay, maybe stop one short of that.
I’m playing & singing at the showcase Sunday night - 9pm, at Trax Bar & Grille (under my REAL name: Melissa Krahnke). Hope to see you! Here’s the link if you need info on the WHOLE showcase lineup, or if you wanna buy tickets:
After I sang the National Anthem at the SWB Yankees game last night (footage in yesterday's blogÂ â I rocked it!), I stopped atÂ the store to buy some toothpaste and soap. I hate to admit this, but I secretly took a picture of another womanâs feet as she was standing in the checkout line. I know, shameful. But I had to do it. As a public service.
WOULD YOU LOOK AT THESE SHOES?!
If shoes could talk, I guarantee these would say âthis woman has not had sex in a very long timeâ¦.and she will not be having sex tonightâ. I believe some articles of clothing work as a chastity belt for the wearer. Deemed unfit for the sexually active public, these items adorn the humans who have pretty much given up or are angry with the opposite sex. Think about it: husbands, if your wives are mad at you, what better way to exact revenge than by strapping on a pair of these bad boys and forcing you to take her out on the town? People will think sheâs your slow-witted cousin and itâs your day to take her to the zoo.
Ladies, I donât care how busy you are, how unconcerned you are with your appearance, or how âcomfortableâ you wanna be â THIS is inexcusable. This will surely save you money on birth control. No one will EVER look at these feet and think: Hey! Velcro and canvas! Canât wait to see THOSE on my bedroom floor! Hubba Hubba!.........Â Men: is this likeÂ frostbiteÂ to your man parts?
If a woman wants to remain celibate that's her decision. IfÂ YOU are one of these women,Â I suggest youÂ employ the following: elastic waist pants, oversize tees, scrunchies, sweats with writing on the tooshie, overalls, long flowy polygamist dresses, and mom jeans. Oh, and these shoes (of course). YOU don't need intimacy - you have velcro.
I know it’s a little early to be excited for the weekend, but I can’t help it: I’m playing the Steamtown Original Music Showcase Sunday night (9pm at Trax Bar & Grille) and I can't wait! Hope you can come! There will be TONS of great original local artists all weekend, not just me. Here’s the website & ticket info....
For Steamtown Original Music Showcase Official Website, click HERE
Tonight I'm singing the anthem at the Scranton/WB Yankees games - excited for that too! Thank the Lord Irene got NEPA out of her system yesterday, huh? I get to do two actually (double-header cuz Saturday's game was postponed), sooooo........ Go Yankees!!
Funny how a split second decision can put a lingering hex on your immediate future. Yesterday afternoon I’m sitting in my living room, talking to my mom on the phone, and I suddenly realized I hadn’t eaten all day. I said “Mom, I think I need pizza.” She said “Honey, you DESERVE pizza. You’ve had a long day.” (See, this is the logic in our family: toil hard in the field, then reward thyself with fatty foods. This is why I was a walking Tootsie Roll til the age of fifteen. Yes. Good plan. Defibrillators bring families closer together.)
BUT sometimes it’s okay to reward yourself with yummy foods. Especially when you run six to seven miles a day and you really don’t feel like cooking. So I finished the convo with Mommy and ordered my supper. I invited my little neighbor girl over to help me eat the pizza because I knew if I didn’t, I’d demolish the whole damn thing myself and be filled with a tidal wave of shame and melted cheese.
Cut to an hour later and I’m hoovering my first slice like it’s the end of the world and the ONLY way to get into heaven is by having sauce stains up to your elbow. I heard a loud POP! Then immediately felt searing pain in the left side of my face. I could barely open my mouth. It KILLED!! I tried not to wince cuz I didn’t wanna scare Madelyn (hey, she’s five…..who wants to be haunted by the memory of your babysitter becoming gruesomely deformed in a freakish pizza accident?)
But I seriously think I dislocated my jaw or something. Whatever the hell I did, I have a splitting headache today. AND it’s still hard to open my mouth. Add to that the embarrassment of knowing I only acquired this injury because I was giving in to my inner “fat girl” and I just can’t even live with myself today.
So I’m gonna go home, ice it, and hope to God I feel better by tonight. Cuz it’s Desiree’s birthday. And I’d REALLY like to go out and celebrate with her. And I’m a lot more fun when I can actually open my mouth ……depending on who you ask.
Had a blast last night at Alice Cooper with my girls! STILL havenât been to bed, so Iâm noticeably tuckered out today. I see a fluffy pillow and a delicious prone position in my future. Â You ever get to that point of tired where you start to think in jibberish? Hereâs my exact train of thought this morning as Iâm driving to workâ¦..
If I had a bunny rabbit, nobody would clean the cage. I need to get a pet that doesnât require a cage. Maybe if cereal came in liquid form you wouldnât need the milk at all. Who left a roll of nickels in my car? I really shouldâve worn a jacket. Yellow jackets are bugs but theyâre also a fashion emergency. If I donât get my oil changed soon I think my car will turn into a crusty croutonâ¦.
The frightening thing is â Iâm not kidding. These were my exact thoughts. The REALLY frightening thing is - I was trying to navigate traffic as my idiotic brain waded through all this effluence. When your thoughts start to sound like a David Lee Roth interview, you KNOW youâre too tired. Jibberish? What jibberish? I QUIT VAN HALEN, DAMMIT! Zobba doo bop.
So Iâm gonna finish my work now. Cuz if I donât jet outta here at a decent time today, my foreheadâs gonna hit this desk for sure. Then Iâll have a bruise. Then Iâll hafta make up a lie to explain the bruise. Then Iâll hafta get a bunny rabbit and no one will clean the cage. Yikes. Itâs starting again. Get to work, Yankee Rose! Bobba dah boo!
I remember the first time I met Alice Cooper backstage. He hugged me and told me I had pretty hair. I said something like âHuuuumminahhuhblaahshmerpâ and then drooled on my shoe. Okay, so it wasnât that bad. But I was fairly idiotic, nervous, and ineloquent. I did the typical fan thing where I told him Iâve loved him since I was five years old (like he gives a flying fart) and that he was part of the reason I started writing songs. (In the music business, we call this âgushingâ).
Well he couldnât have been nicer. He was like âNo kidding?! Cool! Youâre younger than my daughter!â Then he put his arm around me andÂ said âHey letâs get a picture together hun!â And Iâm likeâ¦â¦yesâ¦â¦why donât we..â¦ummmâ¦â¦â¦..Alice Cooperâ¦â¦sir.
I felt like Garth in Wayneâs World â âyesâ¦.letâs hang outâ¦..with Alice Cooperâ¦.â Haaaa.
So we took a picture together andÂ THAT photo took the place of my then-boyfriendâs in a locket around my neck. I can honestly say Alice is one of the nicest celebrities Iâve ever met. Totally lived up to my expectations. Hell, exceeded them.
Sooooooâ¦â¦â¦fast forward to 2011â¦â¦..and FEED MY FRANKENSTEIN, BABY! TONIGHT. Me, Desiree, Shantell, and several thousand of our closest friends will be crammed inside Scranton Cultural Center for what shall be an epic nightmare of sights and sounds. Mwaaaahahahaaaa!!! It shall be, as they say, a house of fire. No price tag. No tricks. Just the prince of darkness. Kay, Iâm done with the song titles now (if anybody even realized I was listing song titlesâ¦.). See you at the show!
And if he tells you "you have pretty hair", for pete's sake -Â tell him thank you! Don't just drool. Lissa.
The American Idols LIVE concert was unbelievable! All the stars were SO nice. I got to visit with Pia, Haley, Casey, Paul, and Thia. Casey was the only one I didn't get a picture with. He rushed away right after our interview - I think he had to go to the bathroom or something.....colon issues. I'm making that up.
Listen to my full interviews with each of them by clicking on our Rocky, Sue, & Lissa banner on the front webpage. If I had to sumÂ them up quickly: Pia smells like strawberries, Paul was the best interview, Haley wasÂ SUPER smiley, Thia was the most excited to be on tour, and Casey reminded me of a really funny Yukon Cornelius.
GOODÂ TIMES WERE HAD BY ALL! And I snuck backstage before the rest of the media so I got to watch David CookÂ mopping the floor of their tour bus.Â Yeah, I guess he drives for them now....
Busy weekend ahead for me! Looking forward to Sunday when I get to interview the artists of American Idols LIVE. The big tour comes to Mohegan Sun Arena Sunday night – I have press credentials and a BIG hug for Lauren & Jacob (my two favorite). I like to get uncomfortably close to the artists and then ask them really off the wall questions. Like “Who’s the most flatulent on the tour bus?” or “Which of the Idol judges would you punch in the face if you had to?” Should be an interesting interview....
I’m simmering underneath with jealousy about my brothers and my dad going to see our beloved Detroit Tigers play this weekend. They’re facing the Cleveland Indians and I don’t get to go. Boo. Wahh. Cry. Moan. I can’t even WATCH ON TV BECAUSE OUR DOODYBALLS TV STATIONS DON’T CARRY THE GAME HERE IN PENNSYLVANIA!!!! ……Not that I’m bitter.
So instead I get to sit in my dimly lit Wilkes Barre asbestos den and watch 90210 reruns as I eat Cheez Whiz off my own finger. Who NEEDS family revelry and major league sporting events when you have THAT?! Haaa…
Hope YOU have a great weekend! And don’t forget to wear a poncho if you hit the Pittston Tomato Festival – I’m gonna wear head to toe pleather. Very washable. Like Grandma always said – a tomato festival ain’t a tomato festival unless you get some of the goo on you. How very true.
Countdown to ALICE COOPER! Next Tuesday, AugustÂ 23.....Â mah BOYâ¦â¦.will be at Scranton Cultural Center and I cannot WAIT!!! If you donât have your tickets yet, what the hell are you waiting for? Alice is unbelievable live â I likenÂ him to KISS, in thatÂ EVERYONE should experience Alice live at leastÂ once before they die. Or, if youâre Lissy Louâ¦â¦.12-13 timesâ¦..and counting. Iâll be going with my gorgeous girls Desiree and Shantell â YAY! Weâre like the Charlieâs Angels of the summer concert season.
Itâs hard for me to believe this season is ending (frowny emoticon).Â I go through the same thing every fall: the saaaaad ritual of putting away my bikini tops and cutoff shorts, then pawing through my shoeboxÂ of ticket stubs from every concert I went toÂ this season, photos strewn across my bedroom floor, and finallyâ¦â¦ pathetically sitting hunched on my couch watching DVD footage of Guns N Roses live, as I scour the internet for fall music festivals and rock themed cruises. Itâs a sad, obsessiveÂ life I leadâ¦â¦ (although fellow music devoteesÂ would call it "dedicated"....haaa sure.)
BUTâ¦â¦it eases the pain IMMENSELY to know that Iâll be playing another gig myself soon! Woot! The Steamtown Original Music Showcase â hereâs the info. Audio clips are there too if you wanna hear me. I'm just piano & vocals - pretty straight up. But there are TONS of great local bands, artists, duos, etc lined up -Â and it'll be all original!!!!! I'm around all weekend (it's Labor Day wknd) , not just during my set. Hope to see ya there!
“How many years do you see yourself being single?” I thought this question was rhetorical, like “how many clowns can you fit in a Volkswagon?” I can’t believe some dude actually asked me this! Some idiot on Facebook - looking for a girlfriend, trolling for attention, you know the type…….. So I promptly told him it was none of his business (I said it a tad more colorfully than that of course) and deleted him from my page. But this was only AFTER I’d read his message about how he plans on getting married in the next two years, having KIDS in the next four years, and then moving to Arizona before the kids start school……
Wow. Apparently in HIS world things like extenuating circumstances and other human beings play little to no role in reality.
I just cringe when I meet people like this. How can you plan on getting married if you don’t even have a person in mind? That’s weird. If you’re the type who has a timeline for everything in life, then you’re setting yourself up for a pantload of disappointment. Especially in relationships. You’re basically saying you’re not so concerned about falling in LOVE, you just wanna get married. Preferably by August 16, 2013. How f%#ked up is that?! So you mean to tell me you’re gonna marry somebody just because it’s “TIME”? If I meet one more guy like this I’m gonna scream.
These are the people we see divorced in five years and they constantly bitch about how their former spouse never laughed at their jokes, never really “got” them, never had sex with the lights on, blah blah blah…….THAT’S BECAUSE YOU WERE MARRIED TO THE WRONG PERSON, DILLHOLE!
And now the kids they just HAD to have within the first two years are stuck in the middle of a nasty divorce. I don’t get it. I never will. Pleeeeeease people, pay attention to life. Good stuff just happens – you can’t force it. And I can pretty much guarantee you, if you’re a lonely single guy messaging random girls on Facebook, hoping they will marry you………be careful. Cuz one of them will. And she's the type who will boil your bunny. You’ve been warned.
A dead bolt in my neighborhood is kinda like a fat girl with a ruffle on the bottom of her swimsuit. It doesn’t really do much to help the situation but the owner just feels better knowing it’s there. I lock ALL my doors before I go to bed every night. Double check, triple check......Last night I heard two loud thumps against the front door when I was lying in bed. I almost peed. Here I am, trying to go to sleep, and….WHOMP!.......WHOMP!.....
I was convinced somebody was trying to break in. I half contemplated jumping out my bedroom window (second story, mind you) and making a break for it. But this is the drawback of sleeping in the nude: people would surely stare. So I just froze in my bed.
About two minutes later I heard a knock on the door. I sprung up from my nervous cowering fetus pose and ran downstairs (after I’d acquired a robe obviously). Twas my neighbor. He had his two kids with him and they were clutching a big red kick ball. He’s like “Dylan and Samantha have something to tell you….” The two kids (in unison) looked up at me and verrrry slowly said “Sorry we hit your door with our ball.” And they strung out the word “ball” like it was two syllables – “baa-alll”…..ha! TOO CUTE!
So of course I’m like “Eh, don’t sweat it you guys! When I was a kid my brothers and I used to throw baseballs up on the neighbor’s roof and catch ‘em when they came back down like pop flies.”
Their dad glared at me. The two little faces lit up like I’d just given them the secret code to a bank vault. Whoops. I deserve EVERY inevitable baseball that gets hurled on my roof now. I brought this on myself. I’m just glad it’s two adorable little kids and not some crazy psychopathic rapist. THIS will teach me to go to bed when it’s still early enough that kids are outside playing kickball! Geeeez, granny! Surprised you remember even BEING a kid!! ;p
As a testament to my blue collar upbringing, I couldnât help but notice my mother refers to every hotel, no matter how fancy, as a âmotelâ. Radisson in Scranton = motel. Hilton = motel. Trump Towers = motel. Itâs cute.Â I had them staying at literally one of the nicest hotels in our area over the weekend and it cracked me up to keep hearing her say âmotelâ. Just goes to show what fancy people we are NOT. Our travel experience will more likely include words like âmotelâ, âbus passâ, and âmuseum couponsâ as opposed to âhotelâ, âlimousineâ, and âfull priceââ¦â¦thatâs just how we roll.
The visit with my folks and sibs was absolutely amazing! They were here for almost a week and I STILL wish they couldâve stayed longer! In fact, I was trying to convince them to leave Michigan and move here. So far they're not biting. I think it has something to do with the Detroit Tigers and Canadian beer.
We had eight people total crammed in my tiny little crib - big bro Jason, his wife Sara, their baby Ben, my younger brother Andy and his girlfriend Devon, Mom, Dad, and me. Within the first hour, my stomach hurt from laughing. They're so funny! I love hanging out with my family.
*took my folks to their first EVER Scranton/Wilkes Barre Yankees game
*We had a little shindig for Andyâs birthday (he got a Thor action figure AND momâs homemade lemon meringue pie â he was thrilled)
*I took them walking all through downtown WB & Scranton, even showed them where the angry drug-dealing lesbians live. My mom said "neat."
*my folks got to see severalÂ photos of me in The Weekender from the "Women Who Rock" show. Made them think I was pretty cool for about five minutes. They even took a copyÂ home so they couldÂ show my grandparents. How sweet is that?
*And most monumentus of ALL â my baby nephew Ben saw Aunt Lissaâs house for the very first time! Awww! He seemed relatively indifferent at first, but then he pooped his pants to show his excitement. He really IS just like his daddy. My brother poops a lot when heâs excited tooâ¦.
Seriously, I’d like to thank whoever smeared barbecue sauce on the shifter knob of the KRZ vehicle! It was such a pleasant surprise when I latched onto it with a kung fu grip and then forgot five minutes later that I had a sticky hand - ran my fingers through my hair and got barbecue head. Mmmmmm. Suuuuper. Gee, I wonder why people sometimes assume DJs are disgusting?
I just wanna know – HOW can a grown person (a seemingly image conscious MEDIA person) sloppily hoover a food item drenched in barbecue sauce as they careen down a public street and NOT be aware that perhaps this wouldn’t reflect well on company image OR safety? I mean, can you hear people describing this scene to their friends? ……..”Did you SEE that KRZ DJ flying down 81?! Dude looked like Quasi Modo fleeing a crime scene! He was covered in red sauce, hunched over the steering wheel, driving with his knees, and both his hands were dug into a seven pound baked ham! I swear to God he had a bucket of dipping sauce strapped in the passenger seat….”
People will start to think KRZ is a bunch of food-crazed lunatics. Did you wanna meet us at one of our public appearances sometime? Better not spill any ketchup on your shirt – we’ll tackle you and suck it out. Feel like calling and making a request? Be prepared to read to us from a Chinese takeout menu and share your recipe for jambalaya. Lest we come through the phone and strangle you with our fat pants. Apparently we have no self control OR manners when it comes to food....
On a different note, this will be my last blog for a while because my FAMILY comes today! Yeeee! I’m off til next Thursday. But rest assured that when I return, I’ll have dozens of vomit-inducing heartwarming tales of family togetherness and some equally saccharine Norman Rockwell type photos. I appreciate your patience in advance. I tend to gush a little about my family (especially BEN THE WONDER NEPHEW, cuz he’s so cutey patooty wee shnooky pookums wooojah wooo……see? I’m doing it right now….) but that’s only because I have the best family in the world. And this will be my FIRST time having them all together in my hood. Can’t wait. Look out Wilkes Barre! ;)
Sorry I had to leave on this note (bitching about barbecue sauce on a shifter) but really, it can be applied to your workplace as well. NO ONE….at ANY job……wants to touch your sticky knob. Remember that.
What’s more annoying? Someone telling you no, or someone agreeing to do something for you and then pretending like it’s an enormous inconvenience the entire time they do it? I submit that the latter is far more irritating. It’s like those people that let you merge in traffic but then they make a face like “SIGH! EYE ROLL! Go ahead!.....I guess!” Ummm…..thanks?
I think I would honestly rather somebody tell me no than hafta deal with the excruciating torture of feeling like a bother.
Yesterday. Grocery store. I’m approaching the speedy checkout lane and I notice that the chick ahead of me has three things but they’re all bunched up at the end of the conveyor belt so I couldn’t put my stuff down. I was carrying milk, cereal, and two six packs of soda (yeah, I probably should’ve gotten a cart. Different subject for a different day). My arms were getting tired so I asked her “Could you scooch up a bit, just so I can set my stuff down?”
She looks at me. Looks at my stuff. Furrows her brow. “Seriously?” she says. (Um, no ma’am. I was kidding. This is how I get my kicks. I ask people to move their grocery items and then I poke them in the forehead and run away laughing - because I’m not even READY to checkout yet!!!! BAAAHAHAHAHAA!! Isn’t that funny?!)….. Yes, I’m serious, you cow. WTF?
So she rolls her eyes, sighs like a tire releasing air, and finally moves her things. Barely. I’m thinking to myself – was that really necessary? Making a big show like that? This woman must have major mental issues. And split ends.
I’m reminded of my mom at moments like this. When my brothers and I were growing up, and maybe something happened where we didn’t get our way, we weren’t allowed to pout about it. If we DARED to pout, we’d get in trouble and my mom would send us to our room for pouting. She’d be like “Sheesh! Go do that in your room – nobody wants to look you while you're doing that.” But then…..as a kid…..you’d be all confused. You’d be thinking....Well then what’s the point? I hafta pout where people can see me! How else will they be made aware of my dissatisfaction? Ah, therein lies the beauty of the Mom strategy. Inevitably we’d get over it and quit acting like a brat.
I think my mother needs about five minutes with this lady ahead of me in line. And ANYBODY that makes a big show of being “inconvenienced” by another human being on this earth - we live in a society here! Get along dammit! Unless somebody is hurting you, do NOT make a big show of doing something minuscule and marginally nice for another person. It’s just f%#king rude. And ironically, it somehow cancels out the nice thing you just did. See how that works? Cripes. It’s a good thing my mom is coming to visit me this weekend. Might hafta send her down to the grocery store to be my enforcer. I would LOVE to hear her tell a stranger “Go do that in your room. Nobody wants to look at you.”
Three things I learned at “Women Who Rock” last night:
1. A room full of sweaty female musicians smells a hundred times better than a room full of sweaty male musicians. (I used to travel with all dudes. Pungent.)
2. I wish Henry the sound guy at River Street Jazz Café was my uncle. Dude’s a hoot. And he knows his sh!t.
3. NORTHEAST PA WOMEN ROCK!!!!!!
Rachel from The Weekender said this year was the best attendance they’ve ever had – yay! And the crowd was AMAZING! I think we raised a lot of good money for the Domestic Violence Service Center. Hope so :) And the musicianship? I was blown away. Thanks Kyle (K-Mak, our KRZ overnight guy) for videotaping my set! Here's most of it (the beginning of the first song got cut off).
WOMEN WHO ROCK is tomorrow night!! You heard Kate (k8) and I performing live on the show this morning - we'll be playing full sets tomorrow! And we'd love to see ya! Tickets are cheaper in advance, soooo.....
It’s a wonder to me - WHY do we bother brainstorming show topic ideas when the “E” network can spend an entire half hour on Kim Kardashian’s psoriasis? I think that’s how you know you’re officially out of ideas – when you start looking around the room going “Who’s got a growth? An infection? Deformity? What can we devote an entire show to and treat it like an emergency even though the rest of the world would just call it ‘life’?” That’s where the Kardashians are sitting right now. Next episode will be about somebody’s colon. Mark my words. (Of course this would be an appropriate time to point out that I still choose to WATCH the show – who’s got a gun to your head, Lissa? Nobody? That’s right.)
We have so many shows about nothing and famous people who DO nothing, I’ve decided to start doing less and less each day. According to the Kardashian business model, this should quadruple my income and hook me up with several tight-bodied pro athletes. I look forward to that.
I’m also gonna put less planning into our radio show. I’m just gonna turn on the mic and say things that are way too personal and semi-disgusting (oh wait, I already do that), thus making the audience kinda wanna vomit, but also feel a false sense of personal connection with me. For instance, today is Rusty Fender’s birthday. And Rocky has a slight stomach ache. In the world of non-tertainment I could make an entire two hour special out of that. Rocky, Sue, Rusty, Joe Snedeker, and I would all be gathered around the KRZ table eating birthday cake, and Brother Rock would get a wicked case of the runs. Drama would ensue. The KRZ house would be divided because Rusty’s birthday was RUINED by the thoughtless explosion of Rocky’s bowels. Cue the sad music as Rocky & Rusty walk away from each other in slow motion. See? You can almost picture it, can’t you?
And if we ran out of toilet paper around the 45 minute mark, it could potentially be a “To Be Continued….”. Ah, I can feel the zeroes being added to my bank account already! This is very exciting.
For the love of all things holy, all you had to do was shave to the knee. Or wear long pants. But nooooo, you made us all stare at your disgusting hairy drumsticks popping out the bottom of your pleated khaki shorts. There’s just so much wrong with that sentence I don’t even know where to begin.
I am simply fascinated with this woman. I am in the chekout line. Staring. (How very tacky, Lissa)....... But come ON - she put on shorts this morning knowing full well she hasn’t shaved those legs in almost two weeks (and that’s being kind). Some of the leg hairs are actually starting to CURL they’re so long! Ewwwwww! AND she’s not wearing a drop of makeup AND she has a Dan Rather haircut……..Oh, wait, the final detail driving me to madness: she’s wearing a WEDDING RING!!!! So lemme get this straight, somebody – some MAN - has agreed to marry this?! Yep, til death do they part. Or til she quits shaving, pulls her khaki shorts up to her chest, and cuts her hair like an anchorman. That’s when the mister should get a free pass to start some hot steamy affair. I wouldn’t blame him. I reeeeeally wouldn’t.
I wonder: at what point did this woman give up? I GUARANTEE she did not look like this when she and the hubby were courting. Is it an age thing? Is it the married thing? Or is it laziness? I’m honestly asking here. Cuz THESE are the things that make me scared to death of marriage.
I don’t wanna become one of them. I LIKE having good hygiene. I LIKE wearing my pants at normal waist level. If I ever get married and the other person turns into an indifferent, asexual, khaki covered lump - we’re gonna have problems. Whether you’re in a relationship or not, care about yourself! Care about society. We hafta look at you. Consider that lone neurotic DJ girl behind you at the checkout counter, trying like hell to bite her tongue when all she wants to do is yell “Shave those stems, ya Sasquatch!!!!” What about HER? Her head’s about to explode right now. She’s gonna vent to her blog in 3……2….1
Finally installed my beast of an air conditioner. Fought with the damn thing for about an hour. I think it should have a "M*A*S*H*" sticker on the side of it. Yeah, pretty sure it was born the same year as me. Olllllld. We'll see how long it lasts. I don't really care - I love the heat. But I noticed recently that maybe I don't "love" the heat as much as I think I do. I've been a wee bit edgy these last few days.....
I was at the Laundromat last night (aka – where dignity goes to die) and needless to say the laund-o-rama is a soul crushing experience anyway, add seven or eight sweaty screaming kids climbing all over the machines while their mom and “uncle” yell “GIT DOWWWWWN!! GIT OFFA THERE!!!!”…..and I was about ready to take my own life by drinking liquid Snuggle.
I firmly believe Laundromats were created to remind people like me to apply themselves. Much like busses. These places are designed so that you sit uncomfortably for large blocks of time, staring at ugly people. It’s supposed to make you reevaluate your life and wonder where you went wrong.
It works remarkably well on people like me because I have a tendency to judge myself by illogical and unfair standards anyway. Here’s what I was thinking yesterday: “If only you hadn’t worn a Milli Vanilli t-shirt in first grade, Lissa…..you’d have amounted to something and you’d be able to afford a washer & dryer.” And then I look around the Laundromat. The seven spazzoid monkey children are jumping inside the washing bins as their mother ignores them and eats Cheetohs with “Uncle” Horatio……I make a Charlie Brown face. I vomit a bit in my mouth. This is my afternoon. Good grief.
I was very annoyed. By everything. I found myself suddenly giving CHILDREN dirty looks. CHILDREN!!!! Easy, Lissa - go buy yourself a frozen lemonade, listen to some Nightranger, fold the eighty seven pairs of cutoff shorts you just washed and then head back to the ranch for nappy time. You need to settle down.
We all need to settle down a bit, right? It's easy to get irritated when it's this bloody hot out (especially with so many smelly people walking around.....see, I'm doing it again!!!) but let's remember - when it's mid January and we're freezing our cooters off, we'll WISH for this!
Kay, I’m outta here! PLEASE be safe this weekend! And if you’re free tonight, come see me at Mulligan’s Irish Pub! I’ll be there from 10pm to midnight. There’s a rumor floating around that a few other KRZ cronies might be joining me. I won’t tell you exactly who, but suffice to say they can drink about three times the legal limit and they know a LOT of dirty limericks. It’s gonna be happy funtimes :)
Why is it that WHENEVER somebody starts a sentence with “I’m not a racist, but….” you just know whatever follows is gonna be incredibly racist? Same goes for “I’m not sexist, but….” HEY! Here’s a thought: If you’re not a racist, umm.....don’t act like one. If you’re not a sexist, don't act like one. It’s pretty easy.
I was at Quaker Steak & Lube last night for Bike Night (AWESOME by the way – we had a bikini car wash - FUN!), and I went out with the girls afterwards. We were chatting with these two dudes from outta town, and one guy leans into me and goes “Hey, I’m not a racist, but check this out..…” He proceeded to tell the most offensive, racist, UNFUNNY “joke” I’ve ever heard in my life. Strom Thurmond would’ve laughed his ass off and bought this guy a beer. I, personally, just stood there with my mouth agape and didn’t blink for like three minutes.
If you are a stranger and you start telling me racist jokes, you should also start an oven timer on our conversation. I will be gone in twenty seconds. Guaranteed. Somehow I let it slide A LITTLE if I already know you and I know you're not really a racist, OR if you’re older than dirt and you just don’t know any better. I realize that's slightly hypocritical, but older people tend to say things out of ingrained ignorance, not hatred. I'm not excusing it. I'm just saying it's different.
But if you were born anytime AFTER 1970, you have no excuse. If you’re part of my generation and you’re dumb enough to be racist, lemme just clue you in to a few things: The south will NOT rise again. The north won. Get over it. Immigrants belong here just as much as you do – we’re all immigrants. The NATIVE Americans are the only truly indigenous people in this country. If you're gonna hate on somebody cuz they have an accent, or the fact that they “never even bothered to learn our language”, you better be good and damn sure you NEVER make a grammatical error, use street slang, or fail to enunciate your words. Cuz I gotta say – half of the rednecks who grew up here and claim to know our language SO very well, are themselves pretty hard to understand sometimes! I mean “Whatchadoon?” "Yous"? Are these words? I don’t think so.
So my point is this: if you’re trying to impress a girl by telling a joke that’s OBVIOUSLY sexist or racist, don’t say first that you’re NOT a racist. At least have the cajones to admit it. Own it. I may not agree with you but at least I’ll respect you for being authentic. And then I get to test drive my “what’s it like to never get laid?” jokes. See if you make the connection.
Iâm doing this NEXT Thursday, but Iâm telling you now so you can put it on your calendar. Hope you can come - itâs a great cause and some incredible musicians! Itâll be extra special for me cuz this is the first time I get a chance to perform my ORIGINAL music live in Northeast PA. Iâm obviously very excited about that! When I got asked to host about a week ago, I said yes right away. About five minutes later I was on the horn with organizers, like "ummm.....could I maybe play too? How about ya lemme play too? Lissy play too? Lissy likey playtime too...." So they were like "Jeeeeeeez, YES, you may play. Just please stop calling us." (I'm kidding. They never said that. It actually required no pestering whatsoever - they were very sweet to me.)
BUT, since theÂ organizers already had their schedule made up when I got asked to host, and they were kind enough toÂ LET me play, I took the last slot of the night (12:45am). I know thatâs late for most people, butÂ if you could find it in your heart to come out, I would just be happier than a fat kid at a cheese factory!
................Hereâs the info (thanks to The Weekender): Â
*Lissa from 98.5 KRZ will be hosting âWomen Who Rockâ to benefit The Domestic Violence Service Center!
For anyone who’s EVER expressed jealousy about my wicked cool lifestyle, I offer you this: I have an appointment to get my car shampooed today because it reeks of sour milk, I was up half the night listening to my white trash neighbor argue with our landlady, and I just got approached in public square by someone who mistook me for a stripper named “Mercedes”. This is my Monday.
First off, I did not spill milk in my car. An adorable little girl did, and therefore I cannot be mad about it. I love her. I was babysitting little Madeline from next door and she was drinking moo juice in the back seat. Apparently the combination of a Wilkes Barre pothole and a four year old trying to dance to Pitbull WHILE she holds a beverage is just too much. Milk everywhere. Back seat stench. It’s getting worse by the day. So I’m currently driving with ALL my windows open at ALL times. Shampooing commences at 2pm.
I’ll probably nap at the car care place because I’m like one big raw nerve - I got NO sleep last night. My neighbor lady was on the sidewalk for about an hour yelling obscenities at our landlady and challenging her to a fistfight. This was about 1am. It was very Springer-esque. There was everything from “YOU COME OUT IN THE STREET – I’LL WHOOP YOUR TRASHY ASS” to the ever popular “I HAVE A KNIFE – I’LL CUT YOU”. The police showed up at the speed of indifference and finally diffused the situation. By that time though, my alarm was set to go off in 15 minutes. So I just got up and went to work. On the bright side, I made up a little rhyme in my head using some of the hate spew - I think it could be a fairly catchy drinking song…
I will cut you, stupid whore,
Rent’s due Monday, drink some more,
Five days late and you’re a bum.
Back off bitch – I’ll break your thumb!
(Sing it to yourself. In the shower. It’ll be a hit – I swear.)
And finally, the piece de resistance: I was walking in Public Square about a half hour ago and this guy comes up to me and says “See you Thursday Mercedes!”. I looked at him. I said “My name’s not Mercedes”. He responds with “It is at the club”. Ahhhh……”the club”. I nodded knowingly. If I were smart I would’ve promised him a super special lap dance for an advance on my tips. Why don’t I think of these things in the moment?
So there you go. That’s my day so far. And it’s not even noon yet. Still jealous? Unless your name’s Mercedes, I'm guessing the answer is no.
KISS was awesome! And what made it even BETTER was that we got to move up from the lawn to one of the first few rowsÂ - we were RIGHT IN FRONT OF THEM!!! Woooooooo! Guess itâs always a good idea to bring your hot friends with you for just that reason ;)
Iâll leave most of my blog to pictures today â LOVE these shots! My two uber-hot friends in the photos (Desiree and Shantell) will be with me at both of Craig Gassâs comedy shows this weekend at Wisecrackers too! Hope to see you there â heâs on at 8pm tonight AND Saturday night. Tickets are just $20 and available at wisecrackers.biz or at the door.
Sooo... here's the rest of my week: KISS tonight, Warped Tour tomorrow, comedian Craig Gass at Wisecrackers on Friday, and the MMA Fight at Mohegan on Saturday. This is my life. Can you say KICKASS? And not even kidding, I was just on the phone with my mom saying “yeah, I don’t have much going on over the next few days so call me whenever..…” Hahaaa. Somehow it doesn’t seem chaotic when it’s FUN!
So if you’re at KISS tonight, come up and say HI! I’ll be off tomorrow so you won’t hear my Demi Moore-ish voice spewing smartass comments at 5:30am (won’t you be devastated?). Rest assured, I’ll be back at it Friday. Cuz that’s the day we get liquor.
THANKS to our bridal parties who were on the show this morning – Team Heather & Team Bridget went head to head in a trivia challenge about who knows the most about their brides. Watch the video HERE. I hafta give props. Seriously – do you know when your best friend lost her virginity? Do you know what kind of underwear she’s wearing right now? Do you know the biggest lie she’s ever told? These were HARD questions! But everybody did great. The WINNERS (Team Heather) goes to NKOTBSB with us on July 30 at Hershey Park. Can’t wait!
Kay, I gotta go finish my work now. KISS starts in eight hours and twenty seven minutes!!!! (Devil horns up…..DE-NEET!)
Well I’m officially freaked out for the day. I’m a bit of a skeptic when it comes to things like paranormal activity, psychics, stuff like that. BUT we had psychic/medium Jonathan Louis on our show this morning and I hafta say (embarrassingly) he got to me!
He connects people with relatives who have passed away, but he claims he can’t control who connects him from “the other side”. He’s just a conduit. Normally I file this stuff under the same category as those cheesy horoscopes in the back of Cosmo or the fortune cookies that predict “you will be happy if you’re honest” (gee, really? Thanks a pantload. Guess I’ll go buy that new boat now).
But here’s the scenario that made me (possibly) change my mind. We were putting random callers on with Jonathan and the details he kept listing about this girl’s deceased relative just didn’t make any sense. He suggested that maybe somebody in the room was interfering. Like…..one of the DJs.
Surprise surprise, it was me. Ha! Even for nonbelievers (CLICK HERE for audio ) this is still pretty cool….
Every day of this week is merely a countdown to KISS!! Concert is Wednesday night….Mount Laurel….I’ll be there with Shantell and Desiree and some other dude who I don’t know but Desiree says he’s a huge KISS fan and not a serial killer – good enough for me (hey, we had an extra ticket. Spread the love - that’s my philosophy.)
So IF you haven’t gotten your tix yet, lawn seats are on our website today for half price! You know the website - 985krz.com…..the one you’re presently ON (hey, ya gotta explain this stuff to some people. There are folks who still say “interweb” for cryin' out loud.) Seriously, if you’ve never seen KISS, it’s something everybody should do at least once before they die. AMAZING live show. That’s why I’m so excited to bring Shantell – she’s a KISS virgin! I know she’ll have a blast.
I won’t bore you by listing the number of times I’ve seen them live because, frankly, it makes me sound a tad looney/compulsive/one step up from Trekkie obsessed, but suffice to say – it’s a LOT! Under 100. But over 20. So IF you’re gonna be at the show on Wednesday, come up and say HI! We three girls will be the ones in slutty outfits standing on the lawn, looking like we came with our Dads. Wooooooo!!! Who brought the cold gin?
I was complaining earlier cuz someone made microwave popcorn at the radio station and the entire building smelled like it. All I could think about then was how much I wanted popcorn! And I had none - therefore I wanted that person to die. In a perfect act of hypocrisy, our Friday Morning Happy Hour guest was Bob from Carl Von Luger, who brought in the most fantastic spread of food KRZ has ever seen! Nowwwww the whole building smells like steak, shrimp, crabcakes, chocolate cake, salads, um……..yeah…..I was a jerk for saying ANYTHING about the popcorn.
If WE are the cause of the smell, somehow I’m fine with it. But if somebody ELSE makes a food stench, I wanna stab them in the neck. So weird.
I remember Josh (our promotions guy) mentioning once how he loves tuna. But he knows it stinks. So every time he makes a tuna sandwich at work he makes loud comments like “YEP, JUST HAVIN’ SOME TUUUNA!”…. “MAN! I LIKE TUNA!”…. "LOOK AT THIS DELICIOUS TUNA SANDWICH I JUST MADE!”…… just so people know it’s not him that stinks – it’s the sandwich. (Conversely, this is the same guy who burned microwave pork rinds in the company breakroom about three months ago and it smelled so much like rotting carcass, people STILL talk about it. THAT he seemed fine with. He’s an enigma.)
I’m such a snob about smell, it’s pathetic. I have no tolerance for ANY type of stinky food in the workplace. But then I’ll eat it later myself at home and I think it's fine. Examples: Doritos, egg salad, pizza, nachos, MICROWAVE POPCORN…..
If food aromas were like B.O., then the person who made it would never be able to smell it and enjoy it. How tragic. If it were like a fart, then ONLY the person who made it would enjoy it. Think about that. As it is, our show made the entire building smell like steak and seafood and now I feel like God is punishing us, because every five minutes we’re being bombarded by fellow employees popping their heads in our office going “Hey! Did you save us any Carl Von Luger?”……..Um, no. Then they look at us like “Well then I want you to die. I’ll stab you in the neck, you inconsiderate bungholes”. And actually - I understand. I brought it on myself when I got snooty about the popcorn. Lesson learned.
Last night I was hosting Bike Night at Quaker Steak & Lube (FUN) and it was Tattoo & Body Piercing night. Dangerous. As a person who loves her three tattoos, I can honestly tell you it’s a constant battle to keep myself from getting another one. I’m done with piercings – I have the bellybutton and both my ears done. That’s enough. But the tattoo thing….it’s always in the back of my mind. Tempting me.
To make it worse, my BFF Shantell who works at Quaker Steak & Lube is dead set on getting another one herself. So we were both hovering around the tattoo booth last night like hummingbirds. I think the tattoo guy thought we were a little nuts.
I guess I understand some peoples’ objection to body art and body piercings, but as always, I have a strict motto of “mind your own body business – or else you’re a jerk”. I would never tell somebody else what to do with their bod. If you wanna get a sixteen inch picture of Foghorn Leghorn having tea with Calvin & Hobbes tattooed on your back fat – rock on. Who am I to say that’s wrong? (That IS wrong by the way. Don’t do that.)
The ONLY thing that kept me from getting another tattoo last night is the fact that I’d hafta call my mom & dad and TELL them I got more ink. My parents are not fans of the inkage. Or the piercings. They’re fairly traditional Midwestern folk (read: preferring their children with no puncture holes or permanent pelvic pictionary). They’ve been very patient with me up to this point. But I think I neared the boiling point of dad’s tolerance when sommmmeone (I blame the media) clued him in to the definition of the term “tramp stamp”. Uh….yeah…I have one.
And now my dad sees it and probably thinks "my little girl..........has been stamped..........I would like to believe she's NOT a tramp...and yet.....there is the stamp............oh, that scamp.....I could hit her with a lamp"... I mean, come on. The bitter sting of parental shame hurts much worse than actually getting the tattoo. (My dad would never hit me by the way. He loves his lamps way too much.)
Sooo…no more tattoos for me last night. Who knows what the future will hold though? I like to test my parents’ heart conditions every six to seven months, just to make sure their tickers are working okay. I don’t know why I do it. They’re such nice people. But whaddaya expect from a daughter who’s got a TRAMP STAMP?
I never thought Rihanna could out-sexy the video for “Rude Boy”…….enter “S & M”. I’m proven wrong. I never thought she’d out-sexy “S & M”…..enter the video for “California King Bed”. I’m proven wrong again. I don’t know what it is about that girl but I swear she could look hot even if she had no makeup on and was sitting on a garbage pail gutting a chicken.
Same thing goes for her male counterpart: Ne-Yo. I have seriously NEVER seen a bad picture of this man. I defy you to find one image, video clip, stage shot, yearbook photo, whatever where he looks like anything OTHER than an Abercrombie model.
Some people are just born sexy. It’s in their DNA. Other people are sorta weird/sexy (Lady Gaga). Then there’s dirty/sexy (Kid Rock). I’m also a fan of old guy/sexy (Steven Tyler), baby momma/sexy (Britney Spears), smart/sexy (Natalie Portman), and funny/sexy (David Spade). Ever stop to think what kind of sexy YOU would be if somebody described you? I’d like to think I’m a cross between smart/sexy and funny/sexy. But in reality I’m probably a little closer to…um……I dunno….is there such a thing as awkward/sexy? No?
I look forward to seeing Rihanna’s next video. Can she TOP “California King Bed”? I believe she can. Let’s just hope she’s not a Christina Aguilera type of sexy – we call that “looking great til ya hit 28”...... Hey. Don’t laugh. It could happen to any one of us....
Sometimes I bang my face against my desk just to see how quickly my coworkers would respond if I ever passed out and my face landed on my computer keyboard – THUD! The result? They all look at each other, shrug, and scratch their bellybuttons. No one cares. I’m kidding of course – I don’t do that. But you thought I was serious for a minute, didn’t you? And you thought - Wow, that’s just incredibly stupid. That Lissa girl really IS a microwave licker.
Sometimes we take precautions in life that are completely useless. Sometimes we’re a little too paranoid as a society.
Example: I saw a husband and wife yesterday down by the river (say it in a Farley voice – you know you want to). They were getting ready to canoe. I was running, but I shut off my Ipod so I could eavesdrop on them. Yeah, I do that sometimes. Shameful I know. But it makes me feel like a God. And I’m a very poor, very stressed, very lonely individual with a crappy car and a rental unit that smells like chicken – LET ME HAVE MY FUN!
So I’m eavesdropping on Frank & Sally Canoeguy (not their real names) and the husband literally places an ore in the wife’s hand and makes her sit on dry land in a canoe. She’s “practicing” rowing. Um, on land. She already had her life preserver on. It looked freakin’ hysterical. I know boating safety is very important, as are life jackets. But how immeasurably stupid is your wife that she can’t grasp the concept of rowing IN THE WATER, AS YOU’RE HELPING HER? You’re telling me she can’t master a back-n-forth motion as you’re shoving off in the shallows at a snail’s pace? Well then she is a dolt.
More importantly, Frank Canoeguy – how insulting is it that you’ve placed a grown woman in a dingie on a river bank, WITH AN AUDIENCE and forced her to pantomime like a doofus as you yell “STROKE!...STROKE!....STROKE!” The sad part is – the wife is probably an extremely intelligent individual, only going through these motions because her husband is an overprotective anal control freak. God bless her.
Gee, I sure hope these two have reproduced. Their kids would be totally Rod & Todd Flanders. Completely safe, blissfully happy, and painfully unaware that the rest of the world is mocking them.
I’m dying to know if that test run helped though. Maybe it did. Maybe if they hadn’t done that, she would’ve stood up, whipped off her life vest, and started to run in place as they were racing downstream. What? You’re NOT supposed to do that? My advice to Frank: if your wife really IS that dim, don’t put her on a body of water in the first place. Just find a sturdy tree by the riverbank and dangle her from one of the branches by her belt loops. Get her close enough that she can splash and point at the fishies and clap and giggle. Then take her home. And put her helmet back on.
Happy Birthday to one of my besties todayÂ - Morgan Mudge! Love ya bro! Okay, so you already know the Def Lep/Heart show ROCKED hardcore! But Iâm here to tell you: Kyla and I had the MOST fun of all! Iâm talking about mah GIRL, Kyla Campbell from WBRE TV â we were rock nâ roll renegades. Luckily I had Thursday off, sadly she did not. By the way Rocky & Sue, I heard that you guys called her the next day during the show and sheÂ spilled the beansÂ about how Vivian Campbell (guitar player) was making eyes at me the whole concert. Hahaaa tis true. And I loved every minute of it!
We sat next to Eric Petersen from our sister station, Froggy 101. He and his friend wereÂ really fun! They were very good sports about being hit with flippy girl hair and ourÂ gyrating dancing asses â inÂ factâ¦.they almost acted like they liked itâ¦.hmmâ¦.haha.
I canât believe I only got two photos from the entire night. Hope she got more.
See you at our Scrantastic Spectacular Celebration on Sunday!Â The whole KRZ crew willÂ be there â SO excited! And after the fireworks, Iâll be at Scranton Hardware Bar from 10pm to midnight. Itâs $2 you-call-its, meaning ANYTHING you wanna drink is $2â¦..sooooo after about $8 Iâll be good to go. Then itâs dance dance, shakinâ my pants. Just like our forefathers.
I have no way of knowing how many sewing pins I dropped in my kitchen last night and that scares the crap out of me. What if I step on one in the dark? I know this might surprise you, but I sew my own clothes. Seriously. I'll give you a minute to let that sink in.................I don’t MAKE them, but I buy vintage pieces and then tailor them to fit. I’m actually a pretty good little sewer (yeah, put that on my headstone…. right next to “party girl”).
So I opened a new box of pins last night and they all burst out like confetti. So I had to get down on the linoleum on my hands and knees and pick them up one by one. I just KNOW I missed a couple. And the whole time I’m rooting around, I’m thinking:
‘You’re gonna miss one. Maybe two. And then the next time you have company somebody's gonna step on it and not wanna be your friend anymore. Then word will spread and NO ONE will wanna be your friend anymore. Cuz you’re the girl who stabs people in the feet. Or even WORSE – your nephew Benjamin will be over and HE’LL step on it (ohhh that’s too terrible to even think) and then he’ll never EVER be allowed to visit Aunt Lissa again – EVER!His parents will probably stop talking to you too. And pigeons will poop on your head.'
I'm freaking out about this - can you tell? If there IS a stray one, I hope I'm the one impaled. But see, that’s the madness of it – I’ll never know. I’ll just sit and stew……and stew……and stewwwwwww. If I come in next week with tetanus, or lockjaw, or stabby foot, or pokey toe, or prickey heel (I’m just making these up), you’ll know what happened.
*can I just take a moment to point out the irony of a girl with three tattoos and several piercings being afraid of needles? Come ON woman!
I have a few tablespoons of redneck DNA. I’m not ashamed to admit it. I’ve never been to a dinner with multiple forks. I tend to receive family reunion invitations that feature the words “PIG ROAST” in all caps. And I own everything Creedence Clearwater Revival has ever released. But I cannot for the life of me get on board with county fair food. I don’t get the allure. What is it about the stench of doody that gives people a hankerin’ for elephant ears and corndogs?
I’m told that I’d change my mind if ever I went to the Bloomsburg County Fair (which I plan to) because they deep fry EVERYTHING and it’s better than sex with a double jointed underwear model. We shall see.
I think my disgust with fair fare (see what I did there?) is a combination of things: first, it smells like poopoo at the fairgrounds. Always. Who wants to eat when it smells like a porto potty? I remember I had a friend once who made the mistake of confessing to me that he eats on the toilet to save time. Uh….what? How jam packed is your schedule that you hafta eat ON THE CAN to make it to work on time?! Set the alarm five minutes back, chief! Thank me later for the absence of E.Coli in your bloodstream. Nope, can’t do it. Can’t eat when it smells like diaper.
Second reason I hate fair food – look at the guy preparing it. This is his life. He works at. the. fair. Sommmmmewhere along the line, his dreams went unfulfilled. He surrendered. And now he’s in cutoff shorts and a Molly Hatchet tee shirt frying my corndog. How concerned do YOU think he is with me not getting typhoid? Even if he WERE a chronic hand washer (tee hee – let’s pretend), usually they position these food booths about a half mile away from any form of running water, so Clem’s outta luck anyway. Are they supposed to just lick themselves clean like cats? Don’t answer that.
Aside from this cuisine having NO nutritional value and basically being the edible equivalent of sleeping with a herpes-ridden crack whore, I’ll still try to keep an open mind. If somebody can suggest ANY county fair solid that does NOT make me wanna puke, I will reward you handsomely. With what, you ask? Well…..I don’t wanna make any promises, but I hear there just miiiiight be an elephant ear with your name on it. And I don’t mean the deep fried kind – I mean an actual severed ear from a circus elephant. See, they use the same booths for the circus AND the fair and Clem was giving Dumbo a haircut when he was supposed to be mindin’ the fryers……. Do the math. Hahaa - that Clem! He’s overextended. He should try eating on the toilet.
I know Rocky already gave props in his blog, but this was my first year being at the annual âWalk Around Wilkes Barreâ and I just wanna say THANK YOU to everybody involved and THANK YOU for asking me to be part of it!
Last night was a blast! We raised a lot of money for Big Brothers/Big Sisters, we ate amazing food, and I met the coolest people â most notably, my new BFF-in-a-day Kyla Campbell from WBRE TV! We sweet talked her into coming in for our Happy Hour this morning and hereâs what happenedâ¦â¦â¦.
Does anybody know what these flowers are? I found them growing alongside my house. I think theyâre SO pretty!Â I never had the patience for any type of gardening (or the knowledge, or the tools, or the desire) but Iâm VERY excited that these are just springing up by my front door!
I assume anything growing naturally in Wilkes Barre probably has a name like Ghetto Gardenias or Drive-by Daisies or something like that, but I hope not. I hope they have a beeeeeautiful name. And maybe somebody can give me tips on how to NOT kill them?
And this just in - CONGRATULATIONS to some of myÂ best friends, Erin & Casey Wohlschlegel!Â Erin just gave birth to their third child - Talise Raine Wohlschlegel!!!!Â She is absolutely GORGEOUS! MomÂ and baby are bothÂ doing great - siblings Tessa & Tayton are no doubt going to have a blast with their new little sis! I LOVE YOU GUYS!!! Now..... get busy with those baby pics! Haaaaa - xoxoÂ ;D
Sue just had to walk down our hall. I’m expecting her to return in a few minutes with red eyeballs and a case of the sneezes. Her allergies go CRAZY whenever somebody has pungent perfume on, and I don’t know who the culprit is today, but our entire radio station smells like a French hooker dipped in patchouli.
Good Lord in heaven – how can people NOT notice they have a gallon of perfume on? I used to think that at church. All the old ladies would be fully marinated in their favorite Sunday scent and then they’d sandwich between each other in the pews so their odors would combine to form a sort of cumulous cloud of stench over the entire congregation. Then at “passing of the peace” time, they’d all want hugs so you’d hafta breathe through your mouth, lest you burn your lungs from the toxic fumes of Elizabeth Taylor’s White Diamonds….. FYI - Easter and Christmas are by far the smelliest holidays.
I assume our noses get worn out as we get older and our sense of smell cannot properly gauge how truly stinky we are. So I’m gonna stop buying perfume at the age of 60. That seems to be when the nasal cavity takes a nose dive (get it? Ha?). I’m probably gonna be a crazy cat lady by then anyway, so I’ll have the delicious bouquet of cat urine and litter leavings to accentuate my presence. (Won’t my live-in nurse be pleased?) I know that sounds gross, but if you were unfortunate enough to experience the mutant funk wafting through our hallways right now, you’d understand. Smells like Christmas.
Gassed up before work this morning and had the extreme displeasure of being stuck behind some idiot who wouldn’t shut the hell up with the store clerk. I felt bad for the guy behind the counter, cuz you could tell he didn’t give a flying rat’s ass about the dude’s story – he was just trying to be nice.
Some folks are physically incapable of restraining their personal dialogue when they see someone standing behind a counter in a service industry position. Hey! A captive audience! And look! I have a voice box! “Blah de blah de bling bling blah…infected toenails…..my wife’s mammogram…my cat’s name is Muggles…..blah blah bloo”
NOBODY IN A CUSTOMER SERVICE POSITION SHOULD BE SUBJECTED TO THIS! Pay for your goods and/or services. Thank the cashier. Say “good day”. Exit stage left.
This nimrod was going on and on and ON to the attendant about a traffic ticket he just got. He thought he didn’t deserve it. He thought the cop was an a**hole. He thought the light was yellow. “Blah blah bloo…”
And then he tried to include ME in the conversation (as if I didn’t have anywhere to BE at 4:02am)…..he looks me up and down, chomps on his toothpick and says “How do YOU talk your way outta tickets? You probably don’t even have to. Girls cry.”
I said “I don’t hafta cry. If I don’t want a ticket, I don’t break the law. It’s pretty simple. And yes, some cops are a**holes. But the other cops hate them even more than we do. Probably similar to how YOUR coworkers feel about you.” I smiled and laughed to make it seem like I was kidding, but I totally wasn’t. I thought the kid behind the counter was gonna pee his pants.
I hate when people bitch about cops, yet they were OBVIOUSLY the ones in the wrong! Just admit it. Ya got caught. Roll with it. As I sidled up to the counter, sorta trying to shoo him out of the way I leaned in and whispered “The light wasn’t yellow dude. If it was, you wouldn’t have a ticket right now.”
Yeah, he did not care for me. ..............But the gas station guy thought I was a hoot.
Thankfully there were no lurkers outside my house last night. I had a delightfully restful five hours of sleep (hey, that’s about an hour more than I usually get). Now I’m diligently plowing through my workday because I MUST leave on time – I’m heading out to CBK Mountain Adventures to do the treetop obstacle course with my friend Megan this afternoon. If you’re ever looking for a full-body workout that is INSANELY FUN – do this! It doesn’t even seem like you’re working out, but you wake up the next day and your muscles feel sooooooo tight! They’ve got suspended bridges, scramble nets, swinging logs, zip lines – it’s the PERFECT way for an adventure lover to spend a beautiful NEPA afternoon! So that’s what I’m gonna do. Excited!
Then I’m back in Wilkes Barre tonight, probably gonna hit up Mulligan’s with Amanda for some adult bevvies (depending on how tired I am from the obstacle course). And I can’t WAIT to see Green Lantern! I asked Rocky & Sue if they wanted to go with me and Sue’s exact response was “Wow. You wanna SEE that gigantic pile of crap?” Ha! Guess that’s a no….
Middle of the night last night I got woken up by two big burly dudes pounding on my front door. I was sound asleep, drooling on my pillow, dreaming of sugar plums and ice fairies - all the sudden I hear BAM BAM BAM! I looked out my bedroom window and saw these two scruffy grungensteins lingering on my porch for a minute, then they hopped into their car and sped off.
WHO could this be? WHY are they banging on my door? I’m scared now. What if they’re leaders of the Coldplay Mafia and they're pissed about all my Chris Martin jokes? What if they’re drug dealers? What if they’re really ugly Avon ladies? It could be any number of things.
Lissy no likey.
I couldn’t sleep for the rest of the night. In case you haven’t noticed I have quite the overactive imagination (probably doesn’t help that I regularly watch several episodes of Forensic Files before I go to bed). I’m hoping the thugs simply had the wrong house, or maybe they’re just overzealous Wilkes Barre Jehovah’s Witnesses. Whatever the case, I’ve taken matters into my own hands. I have protection now. I won’t say what it is. I won’t say how I got it. But let’s just say I feel a milllllllllllion times safer.
And no, it’s not the “Fake German Shepherd Barking Dog Machine”….. Although I kinda want that too. For very different reasons.
All through high school and college I was a waitress. I still contend that it is the hardest job I will EVER have. I was also a grocery store cashier and a bank teller (equally thankless, soul crushing vocations). As a result, I have a sickness that causes me to tip HUGE even when service is crappy.
Ask any former waitstaff. We all suffer from this same disease.
So I was out with a friend of mine last night and we had bad bad BAD service. Bad. The waiter basically ignored us. He wasn’t polite. He forgot my water (three times). He sat in the corner texting whenever they weren’t calling his name frantically from the kitchen…… “Kevinnnnnn!” we’d hear every five to seven minutes from some far off place in the back of the restaurant. Server boy would then look up from his phone like a startled deer, as if he were suddenly awakened from some sort of texting trance. He’d hop into action and scurry into the kitchen.
I can only assume the employer is either his father or his uncle, someone obviously made blind to his ineptitude by the bonds of DNA. Whatever the case, if I were his boss I would’ve confiscated that phone, texted “I AM USELESS” to his parents, thrown the damn thing in the toilet, and then forced him to clean the bathrooms while watching his beloved phone vibrate in the water like a tiny electronic turd. (See, THIS is why they don’t put me in charge of the interns at KRZ anymore).
But for some reason, when we got up to leave, I still plopped down a huuuuuge tip for this guy. My friend was like “Liss – that’s way too much. That’s almost a third of the entire bill. And the guy was a dolt”. I said “Yeah, I know. But I can’t leave a tiny tip. I just can’t.” My buddy looked at me with a mix of confusion and judgment – “You really think you’re doing him a favor by rewarding this type of performance? Ha! You’re as bad as the people who hired him!”
And with that, I was cured. He's right. I'm only enabling inadequacy. So I grabbed five bucks back, stuffed it in my wallet, and left Tommy Texter only (ugh) fifteen percent. The whole way home I felt self-conscious. I had to fight the urge to drive BACK to the restaurant and give him more money. This really is a sickness. I need to realize that not everyone is struggling to make their way through college. Some folks are just struggling to make their way through stupidity. And they do not deserve my extra five bucks. Sorry Kevin.
Will somebody please explain “LOLz” to me? It seems to be replacing “lol”. Lemme just get this outta the way right up front: I think “lol” is the most idiotic thing our chowderhead generation has ever been responsible for (and that’s counting Nick Lachey). I will NEVER use it because it just gets my hopes up needlessly - you see, it looks like a football referee is saying "touchdown!" So I get all excited and think that someone has scored a touchdown. But then I look to my left.....I look to my right...and I realize that no football game is being played. The sting of disappointment sets in.
So NOW we have LOLz. I hate it AND I’m confused by it!......... Great. I'm assuming it means you laugh hysterically and then immediately fall asleep? Like an easily amused narcoleptic. Here’s what it would sound like: “HAHAHAHAHA! Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz……”? No? Am I even close?
I don’t feel bad about admitting ignorance (obviously), especially when it’s in regards to something asinine. It’s kinda like when people ask you about the latest episode of Jersey Shore. Or your thoughts on Kim Kardashian’s engagement. You’re almost embarrassed if you DO know a lot about it.
But, that being said, I am curious. So help me out if you can. Thanks! You’re the best. You amuse me. And then make me want to fall immediately asleep.
This junior at Scranton High School is doing something AWESOME! I was a cheerleader all throughout high school so this totally struck a chord with me! Please help her out if you can. She only needs to raise $500, so every little $5 or $10 would help tremendously. Check out her letter:
To Whom It May Concern:
My name is Kaela Barchak and I am currently a junior at Scranton High School. I am a Scranton Knights Football cheerleader and am working on my senior project as a requirement for graduation. Over the summer, I attended football cheerleading camp and was given information on a program called the Sparkle Effect. The Sparkle Effect was created by cheerleading coaches in Iowa whose idea was to allow those with special needs the opportunity to cheer side-by-side with their peers. This prompted me to decide this would be a great opportunity for me to create my own special needs mini cheerleading squad, “The Knight Stars”. By the beginning of the 2011 football season I hope to have these children prepared to join the Scranton Knights cheerleaders during the first four home games. I am taking on the responsibility of recruiting children ages 8-13 and teaching them a routine which they will perform along the sidelines cheering our football team to victory. This will hopefully be a great opportunity for these children to shine and be a part of a team.
This is where you come in. I am responsible for raising the funds to make sure the parents of these children will not have to incur any cost for their child to participate. At some point, either I or a member of my family has been a patron of your establishment and I am hoping you would be willing to reciprocate that generosity. I hope to raise at least $500.00 to fund this team which will include uniforms, bows, sneakers, and drinks for practices and also to cover the fees associated with renting a facility to hold practices. After all costs have been covered, any remaining monies will be donated in the names of those who donated to United Cerebral Palsy of Northeastern PA. I would appreciate any amount you could generously donate or if there are services or materials that you could donate instead of money that too would be greatly appreciated.
Please consider this a great cause and I desperately need you to make this happen. I have set up an account at Tobyhanna Army Depot Federal Credit Union, 300 Mulberry Street, Scranton, PA 18503 in the name of “The Knight Stars c/o Kaela Barchak” or checks can be mailed to 2027 Price Street, Scranton, PA 18504. I am also willing to pick donations up at your business if that’s more convenient. Thank you in advance for your anticipated donation. If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to e-mail me firstname.lastname@example.org.
GOOD LUCK Kaela!!! You are an amazing young lady and this is a FABULOUS idea! Please let me know which game your squad is going to be performing during - I definitely wanna see them! :) ~Liss
I always thought Joey Fatone was a total puss. Now I think he’s a total puss who owns a lotta cool sh!t. He’s having a massive estate sale this weekend – EVERYTHING MUST GO! Check out some of the items on the auction block: an official Death Star replica, several original standup arcade games (including Ms. Pac-Man), a Sword Of Omens from Thundercats – how does JOEY FATONE have all these things and I don’t?!
See, THIS is the stuff that makes me regret NOT selling out early in my career. When I was just starting out in music, I had several offers to go do bubble-gummy-shoot-me-in-the-trachea-manufactured crap music and I kept saying “no”. I wanted to write my own songs. Play my own music. So I did. Still do….. And I’m very content doing that…….UNTIL I READ STUFF LIKE THIS! AAAAA!!!
If I would’ve sold out JUST ONCE in the early 2000’s, maybe recorded one album with an all-female pop group called “The Cervix Service” and traveled around the country in a pretty pink bus called the “Fallopian Tube” (can you tell I have very little patience for girl groups?) then I would have a Death Star replica of my very own!! And I would be happy. I wouldn’t be sitting here jealous of…..(sigh) Joey Fatone.
So remember this, kids – it’s good to have standards. It’s good have ethics. But it’s also pretty f%#king good to have a Sword Of Omens from Thundercats! Why can’t we do both? If I could only go back in time……maybe the hit single on the charts in 2002 would’ve been “Lissa Hearts Her Girlie Parts” by The Cervix Service. And I would be playing an original Ms. Pac-Man arcade game right now. Dammit.
Okay, you have until Monday to keep making Weiner jokes and then weâre done with it folks. Joke is played. Actually, I work in media so the joke felt played about two hours into our Wednesday morning show, but Iâm giving the rest of society a little bit of leeway because not EVERYONE works at a radio station where the entire building is nothing but smartasses and one-uppers (and I mean that in the nicest way).
I feel like I hafta stamp this Weiner incident with an expiration date because (not even kidding) about a month ago I got hit with an âIâm Rick James, bitch!ââ¦â¦seriously. We canât let this happen again. I almost clocked the guy in the faceÂ just outta principle. Why donât we make some Urkel references while weâre at it? Or whip out a few rounds of âWHAZZZZUPPP?â
Bottom line: Weiner jokes â DONE as of Monday. âWinningâ references (or any other Charlie Sheen lingo) â DONE as of a month ago. Dave Chappelle references â DONE as of the early 2000âs.
I donât make the rules, people. I just enforce themâ¦..as I yell âSha-zam!â (Gomer Pyleâ¦â¦thatâs new, right?)
“Fear of being alone” and “unplanned pregnancy”. Is it weird that the top two reasons people get married are also the top two reasons people kill themselves? Can’t be a coincidence. I swear to God if one more married man messages me (either on Facebook or via email) and wants to cyber-flirt I’m gonna puke on my PC...... WHY DO PEOPLE GET MARRIED IF THEY DON’T WANNA BE MARRIED?!?! I’m not expecting a real answer there. I just think it’s really pathetic that some folks can’t accept reality. Reality is this:
*if you got married cuz you HAD TO (aka – she’s preggers), you will be unhappy in five years or less.
*If you got married cuz it was “time” (read: you’re nearing 30 and sick of being single) you will be unhappy in five years or less.
*If you got married just cuz you wanted to “lock in” the other person (cuz you know you’ll never do any better looks-wise), you will be unhappy in five years or less.
*If you got married so one (or both) of you would stop cheating, you will be unhappy in five years or less.
*If you got married for money, you will be unhappy in five years or less.
Do you see a pattern here?! Lots of people are in happy committed relationships and they NEVER get hitched – go be one of those! But if you’re actually gonna throw around the title “married” – BE IT! Don’t be soliciting women on the internet or trolling for chicks on dating sites. Cuz I guarantee you, somebody WILL find out. Whether it’s your wife or your kids or your MOM, the entire world will know you’re a cheating scumbag with a tiny pee pee (that last part is purely assumption).
So take note, married dudes – next one of you that sends me a racy message and claims your wife is “really cool” and doesn’t care, I’m making it my status update. You’ve been warned.
I just did a Facebook friend purge. Two hundred people. Gone. I have never felt more omnipotent in my entire life. I would like all my current friends to be aware that although they’ve made the cut (for now) I have tasted what it’s like to be all-powerful. I plan to jettison another 200 of you next time I’m feeling ballsy (read: next time I listen to “Get In The Ring” while I’m jogging – grrr.)
Such is the collateral damage of cyber-networking. Even as we speak, I hafta believe there are several dozen people wondering “What is Lissa up to?”….. “Gee, I have no idea what variety of mustard Lissa placed on her turkey wrap today, and this troubles me….” Well TOO BAD, fallen ones! You will writhe in agony, tortured by the curiosity of my day-to-day comings and goings.
OR you will not even notice. Because most of you live in India, Bangladesh, Paraguay, or Narnia. I never should’ve accepted your add request in the first place because I obviously will never meet you. I was being polite. Now your faux-friendship has served two purposes: first, you made me feel nice for accepting you, now you make me feel God-like for deleting you. I think I’m starting to realize why the internet gives people an inflated view of themselves. I am neither abundantly nice NOR God-like. I actually judge all of you for being friends with me in the first place. I'm kind of a freak. What the hell is wrong with you? Now go make me a turkey wrap, lest I cast you aside like some forgotten Narnian.
When I was in junior high, my friend Cheryl & I used to send each other free samples through the mail. Somehow we figured out that if you call the 800 number on the back of seemingly ANY household product and ask them to send you a free sample – they will. This set forth a chain of events that resulted in an entire summer of the two of us “mail bombing” each other with colon medicine, Beano, Depends, cellulite cream, tampons, you name it. My parents would get the mail and be like “Who the hell is sending my kid Depends? LISSA! Why are you getting Depends in the mail?” I’d double over laughing, then immediately call Cheryl and be like “goooood one!”
Mom & Dad would just look at each other and shrug. In retrospect, the “free sample mail bombing” really wasn’t that funny (and it was a colossal waste of time and marketing material for the good folks at Beano and Depends), but when you’re a poor kid in the Michigan backwoods who does not yet have a drivers license or gainful employment, this is how you amuse yourself.
And THAT’S why I’m feeling so inferior today. On our show this morning we were talking about this 8th grader from South Abington Township who won the National Spelling Bee Championship - her name is Sukanya Roy. SHE’S AMAZING! She went TWENTY ROUNDS and ended up winning the whole shebang with the word “cymotrichous” ……………(now mind you, when we were telling this story on the air, I could barely PRONOUNCE that word, let alone spell it).
So it made me think – how would 8th Grade Lissa have stacked up against Sukyana? That’s a train of thought that never should’ve left the station. I was a chubby giggly band geek who consistently got detention for making dirty jokes in class. Fast forward twenty years and the ONLY thing that’s changed is the chubby part. I guess we all show signs of what sort of adults we’re gonna turn into by the time we’re in 8th Grade.
So Sukyana, honey, you soak up EVERY MINUTE of this victory and know that big things are certainly in store for your future! You are fantastic! We’re all so proud of you here in NEPA!
See, some kids are just so beautifully gifted and incredibly talented, they demonstrate to us early on that there is indeed hope for the future. And other kids send their friends free samples of Depends in the mail and think it’s freaking hilarious. I guess we’ll take both kinds……even if they’re “cymotrichous”.…..anybody?.....Anybody?
I think I met my sister in stupidity this morning. Either we’re both equally stupid or we’re both equally tired…..maybe a mix. We were at the gas station standing in line to check out. She needed change for a five.
Her: “Do you have five ones?”
Me: “Oooo, no, sorry I don’t.”
Her: “Hm. Well how about THREE ones?”
I cocked my head to one side. Confused. What would she have said if I’d said yes? Yes, I do have three ones. But ONLY three. Give me that five for them. I shall thoroughly enjoy my hefty two-dollar profit and tell this story for the rest of the day! Mwaaahahahaa!
Just then she realized what she'd said. “Oh”….she turned red. “Never mind.”
We both kinda laughed. Mine wasn’t the laugh of mockery, no. Mine was the laugh of knowing EXACTLY how that feels. The painful self judgment brought on by word shame - I know it well. I give her credit for actually noticing right away that she said something dumb. I usually say idiotic things on the radio and then go hours upon hours before I realize that I’m a complete moron and should probably give half my paycheck back.
A FEW RECENT GEMS OF LISSA ON-AIR BRILLIANCE:
“Bad traffic only bothers me while I’m in it. After I get home, I’m relatively fine with it.”
“How long have I been walking around with salad in my teeth? Since I ate my salad?!”
“I hope no one else noticed that I have two different socks on….” (I announced this ON THE RADIO to literally THOUSANDS of people)
“If you stick a magnet to a compass, does it change the reading for magnetic north?”
This is just a tiny smattering of the many many many MANY asinine things that escape from my mouth on a daily basis. I’m really surprised I don’t fall down more. If ever you’re feeling a little “too intelligent” just walk into a room full of people and whip out a few of these oh-so-scintillating conversational nuggets. Bring ya riiiiiight back down to earth.
Lady from the gas station - if you’re reading this, don’t feel bad!!!! I think you and I should form a club. I feel like we understand each other. We’ll be “The Kindred Spirits Of Buffoonery”. Let’s recruit some additional members and meet in my tree fort at the stroke of twelve. Wait, scratch that..... Better make it noon.
Okay, I seldom put random videos in my blog but this one I just couldn’t resist. This is Nicole Sherzinger (aka - Pussycat Doll, newest judge on X-Factor, DWTS phenom) covering Adele’s “Rolling In The Deep”. Everyone’s always saying that Nicole can’t sing – I would like to offer this up as proof positive that she CAN! Eat it, haters!
I think sometimes people (read: mostly other women) like to insult good looking girls because they don’t wanna believe that somebody can be SO hot and also SO good at something. I'll say it: we get insecure. Ladies, if there was ever an emotion we need to get better about hiding - it's this one. Not attractive. Example: when the original lineup of “Girls Next Door” was on, everybody made the obvious jokes about all the girls at the Playboy mansion being bimbos. Now SOMETIMES (sorry Kendra), it’s true. But SOMETIMES (as evidenced by Bridget’s Masters Degree and Holly’s business savvy), that’s just simply an incorrect assumption.
We don't wanna believe that chicks with such banging bodies can also be quality people because somehow that makes us feel less cool about ourselves. Why? My thighs still look the same whether Playboy bunnies are splitting the atom or spitting up on their bibs. It has no bearing on me. Ironically, the only thing that could make me look bad is my negative comments about another woman, thus revealing my inner player hater. Hmmm......
Why can't we all just be encouraging to each other? I think it’s a step backward in the whole feminist movement when any of us act jealous. You wouldn’t see Susan B. Anthony getting her pantaloons all in a twist because she wasn’t good at poetry like Emily Dickinson, would you? NO! Of course, that’s probably partly because they were both too busy trying to avoid death via smallpox and men who wore “breeches & waistcoats”…. but STILL…..my point is:
Yeah, sometimes it's devastating to look at a girl like Nicole and realize that no matter WHO our boyfriend is at any given time, he’s probably always gonna answer “yes” whenever she sings “dontcha wish yer girlfriend was hot like me?” Um…yeah.
It’s also very freeing! Nobody’s the best at EVERYTHING! There’s always somebody who’s better than you and there's always somebody who sucks worse than you. Write that down. Kinda takes the pressure off a tad, doesn’t it? I mean there’s probably even somebody that makes Nicole herself feel inadequate (although after pondering this for the past 15 minutes and I can’t seem to generate even ONE concrete example of who that might be…….). It's freeing because when someone (like a boyfriend) points out any of our shortcomings we can be like "Well what the hell do you expect? I'm not freaking Nicole Sherzinger!" Ahhhh, the sweet release of mediocrity.
Who cares?! We’re all good at stuff and we all have the capacity to care for other humans – isn’t that what life’s REALLY about? (Insert obligatory “awww” followed by barf sounds). It’s like Keri Hilson says “jealousy’s the ugliest trait….do the pretty girl rock”…..GIVE PROPS to other women! This is the first step to transcendentalism, people. Ask the geniuses at Playboy. They figured it out yeeeeears ago!
I am so filled with gratitude today!Â Two fun surprises for me this week:Â my girls at the dance studio got me this BEAUTIFUL necklace to commemorate my Zumba certification and my awesome friend Crystal from Michigan sent me this super sweet cardÂ that totally made my day!
Serenity Wellness and Dance Center in Luzerne has become my home away from home since I moved here a year ago. Jen, Arlene, Jenny, Lacy, Becky, Donna, and ALL the students there feel like family. They accepted me right away. Even when all I could do was the running man. So when I showed up for class on Tuesday they gave me this GORGEOUS necklace to celebrate my Zumba certification. They also doled out several hugs, which, as you know -Â Lissy likey! And of course, Iâm a big wussy....so I started crying. Not buckets, but not just a sniffle either. Somewhere in between. I love them so much!
Then I went to get my mail and I opened this card from Crystal (I miss her like crazy)!Â The front says âYou always make me smileâ¦â and then she wrote this big long note inside about how she misses me, how I make her laugh, how sheâs so proud of meâ¦â¦..WOW!!! More tears.
I really do have amazing people in my life â Iâm so lucky! So thatâs what Iâm dwelling on today. All good stuff.
Â Hey, if youâre out later, Iâm at Mulliganâs in downtown Wilkes Barre from 10pm to midnight! K-Mak (our KRZ overnight guy) just graduated so there might be some celebratory shots going around! Then on Saturday probably a matinee of Hangover 2. Sunday & Monday â my entire âto doâ list consists of friends and food. Hope yours does too!
Enjoy the weekend! Talk to you Tuesday! Go do the "running man".....
One picture, one video â thatâs all you get for a blog from me today. Cuz these both make me smile. The photo is from Sunday (Ben & I). We were with his mom Sara at the flea market and I showed him this Spiderman lamp because his dad (my brother) is a total comic book freak. Ben seemed relatively indifferent to the lamp but I think thatâs only because he could sense it doesnât use high-efficiency lightbulbs. And he simply wonât stand for thatâ¦..
The video is me singing the National Anthem yesterday at a Memorial Day Veteranâs Celebration and I felt honored that they even asked me to do this. I was a little intimidated to be singing THAT SONG in front of so many veterans, but those guys were AWESOME â they acted like my Grandpa! Haha....They hugged me when I was done singing and told me to make my generation proud â awwwwâ¦â¦Iâll try, guys. I hafta believe my consistent use of a blinker when Iâm merging in traffic is a good start.
I just meandered over to the gas station for an early morning caffeine-me-up and unfortunately witnessed something very disturbing. What IS it about a grown woman talking with a lit cigarette in her mouth that just makes me assume she has no genitalia?
I don’t care if you smoke, but when you’re having an actual CONVERSATION, don’t leave it pinched between your lips like a wiggly smoky turd that refuses to fall. This activity is tantamount to a chastity belt. Do this and you can plan on skipping intercourse for the next five-six years.
I passed by three workers on a smoke break together (overachievers anonymous, take notice) out behind the gas station as I was heading in to get my soda. All smoking. The first lady caught my eye in particular because she never removed her cigarette from her mouth the entire time she was speaking. It was disgusting.
It just kept bobbing up and down between her lips like Katherine Hepburn’s head poking out of a turtleneck……(No? Too soon?) I mean, even when the ashy part kept falling off and leaving gray shrapnel on her forearm, STILL she didn’t remove it!
It doesn’t help that she sports a haircut ala Adam Sandler in Waterboy, her pleated khakis are yanked up to her chest, and her level of femininity makes Sue Sylvester look like Pamela Anderson………….I mean, yeah, those things are troubling, but alllllllll those things - overlookable.
I simply cannot ABIDE when WOMEN (I’m sorry if this is sexist, but ladies, please - have some G%&#amn self respect) talk with lit cigarettes hanging out of their mouths. OR pick their wedgies in public. You’re giving our entire gender a really bad name here ladies. Come on. They gave us the right to vote. Let’s show our gratitude by refraining from digging for gold in our bumcracks and impersonating truck drivers when we spark up a cancer stick. It’s not that hard. Thanks so much.
By the way – my apologies to Adam Sandler, Sue Sylvester, Pam Anderson, AND truck drivers. I don’t think any of you came off well here…..
On Saturday I went up to Springfield Massachusetts to get certified as a Zumba instructor â happy to report, it went SO WELL!!!! It was an all day thing â they basically have you dance for over eight hours. They tell you to bring three changes of clothes because you sweat so much. Thatâs not true. You should bring SEVEN changes of clothes because you sweat so much. HolayÂ MOLAY -Â itâs intense!
I was intimidated right away because they did a âshow of handsâ at the beginning of class and EVERYONE in the room was a professional dancer except me and two other girls (needless to say â we three stuck together). Luckily, I kept up with the ârealâ dancers just fine! Didnât get behind once. The teacher even nicknamed me âbooty shaker girlâ and brought me up in front of the class. She said I make everything look "fun". Hahaaa - COOL! But then one of the professional dancers (who by the end of the day had earned the title "Zumba bully") said IÂ looked ghetto. Ghetto!!!!!
Duuuuuude. I felt like I was back in junior high for a minute. I looked at her and said "Hey - at least I'm having fun. You need to remove the pole from your butt. This isn't ballet. If we hafta choose between looking 'ghetto' and looking constipated like you, I am sooooooo glad I'm ghetto."
Everybody laughed. She didn't bother me after that.
I still feel major tightness in my legs from the workout (althoughÂ that may partially be fromÂ running six miles yesterday but who knows?Â Haaaaa, overdo it much Lissa? Er, "Booty Shaker Girl".....)
I shot up to Saratoga Springs New York afterÂ the Zumba thingÂ to visit Jason, Sara, and Baby Ben (bro, sis-in-law, nephew) and was lucky enough to have Monday off too!Â Family time rules. We walked around the city, visited all the little shops, wandered around the flea market, it was perfect. Benjamin even let Aunt Lissa carry him around in his little baby carrier thingy that you strap to your chest. He didnât fuss once!Â I know I say this a lot, but he really is the perfect baby. Iâm so happy I get to watch him grow up.
I asked Baby Ben if he was excited about Lady Gaga and NKOTBSB both releasing CDs this week and he promptly filled his diaper. That means yes.
Hey WATCH US ON SPRINGER TODAY!!! Youâll see us in the crowd, weâre in the second row (Me, Rocky, Sue, K-Mak, Rachel, and Krazy Kong). It airs at noon on Fox! Hahaaa I am SO ghetto! Â
Rocky came and rescued me this morning. My car broke down TWICE yesterday. Yeah, Thursday really was the day from hell....
I went to see Rusted Root at Brews Brothers on Wednesday night and I had every intention of sleeping in yesterday morning since I had the day off. But INSTEAD I decided to wake up early cuz my neighbor was mowing his lawn, then I cracked my head open on the beam in my basement, I killed my car (twice), paid $750 for the car and it still won’t run, then I get a call from a friend of mine saying she’s pregnant and she’s not quiiiiiite sure who the father is. Might be my ex. Yippee.
Yeah…………………… yesterday was a weird day. Memo to self: DON’T take a day off. Ever.
So Rocky offered to come over and jump start my car last night, after we’d been texting back & forth all day. I think he could sense my emotional degradation – it’s like he’s my big brother sometimes. He calms me down..…..wait - is that weird? Cuz Sue’s like my big sister. Yet they’re married to each other. Is that a bit Appalachian? I fear perhaps it is.
We decided to just deal with my car issues after work today. He’s hoping maybe it’s just a dead battery.
I’m obviously on edge about the "auto immune deficiencies" (get it? haaaa) moreso than usual because I hafta head out of town this weekend. I’m going to Massachusetts for my Zumba Certification. As of tomorrow 6pm, I’ll be a certified Zumba instructor! Yay! Provided I don’t put my shoes on the wrong feet, forget all my choreography, pee my pants, and run crying out of the dance studio. But I probably won’t do that.......ummm....... I’m nervous - can you tell?
On the bright side, I’m so apprehensive about my stupid car now that my worries about THAT have totally eclipsed my worries about the Zumba certification. Either way, Saturday night I’m heading to Saratoga Springs New York to spend a couple days with Jason, Sara, and baby Ben (brother, sis-in-law, & nephew). So my weekend will END WELL no matter what transpires in the next 48 hours.
Wish me luck! I’ll talk to you Tuesday! (I’m off Monday. Let’s hope this day off goes better than the last).
P.S. The ex and my friend? Yeah, I just found out: he IS the one who impregnated her. Oy vey..... But it's a guy I dated for like ten minutes when I first moved here, so I don't really care. Not exactly a multi-page diary entry in the life & loves of Lissy Lou. I feel worse for HER cuz I'm the A-hole who introduced them. Ha! And now she's gotta give birth to a child that might actually use the word "supposeably"...... What? HE did. And DNA's a funny thing.
Aaaaaaaaand today’s “Jerky Jerkola Jerkface Award” goes to………ME! I am such a tool. I was cutting a commercial a few minutes ago and forgot that I’d left my cell phone on….. RIIINNNNNGGG! Right in the middle of what would’ve been a perfect take.
So I threw my headphones down, shut off the audio recording, and as I’m reaching for my phone, I’m like “Who the %#&@ is calling me right now?! What kinda $&#@ing moron doesn’t realize I’m at the radio station?! Son of a bleepity bleep!”
(This of course begs the question: what kinda $&#@ing MORON doesn’t turn her phone OFF at a radio station? Liiiiiiiiisssssssa?)
I checked my voicemail a second later, and THIS is the message I got. Felt like a flaming dillhole:
“Hey there darlin’! This is your Granddad. Just calling to say hello and tell you that we love you and we miss you! If you get a sec, give us a call. We’d love to hear your beautiful voice!”
…………..umm……yeah, I’m an ass. I just swore and acted like a child and cursed at my Grandpa. Commence shame face.
And to make it worse, when I was throwing my headphones down and having my little expletive infused temper tantrum, I had tape running the whole time. So I could go back and listen over and over to myself acting like a self-involved KNOB.
Sorry Grandpa! Even though you couldn’t hear me, I feel bad I acted like that. And I saved that audio file to remind me that SOMMMMMETIMES it’s okay to stop work for a minute and answer your mother-flippin’ phone. (Like when it’s your Grandpa).
I ended up calling him back a few minutes later and NO LIE, first thing he says is “yeah, I realized when it was ringing that you were probably at work, but I didn’t worry about bothering you cuz I figured - well golly, who would leave their phone on in a radio station?”
Iâm obsessed with The Sterling Hotel. I went jogging past it yesterday and slowed down as I inevitably do. I want more thanÂ ANYTHING to get inside! Iâm gonna see if they have some literature at Hoyt Library about the history of this building. Iâm sure they do. Iâm literally transfixed by it - I've been "almost" hit by several cars cuz I keep stopping to stare at itÂ while IÂ run.
So weâll add this to the list of âThings I Wanna Try This Summerâ:
-get inside The Sterling Hotel
Will I succeed? Who knows. If kayakingÂ and rock climbing prove too challenging, thereâs always Boggle. Or Scrabble. (My intellect sometimes fills the gap for my athleticismâ¦â¦ Oh goodie, one more summer of THAT.) Seriously, if youâve ever been inside the Sterling â email me. Iâm obsessed! And if I find out itâs haunted âhoooo boy, Â even better.
If you prank someone and they end up almost peeing their pants in a mad chaotic panic, you’d assume that you’ve pulled off a fairly admirable prank, no? Well…… what if the fallout from said prank was mainly unintentional? Thus was the situation this morning….
First of all, I hafta commend Fishboy on his stealth and almost ninja-like invasion of our office. He broke in over the weekend and hijacked my computer. Changed all my passwords, everything from my desktop was gone, all my backgrounds were changed to giant pictures of his face (or so it would seem). This is all part of the grand revenge scheme that Fishy’s deployed against Rocky and I.
At about 4am today I was booting up my computer and I knew immediately that I was in for a sh!tstorm. I saw Fishboy’s face on my computer background, and I noticed he’d left a note by the side of my keyboard that read “What ELSE have I done? Find out soon!!! BAAAHAHAHAHAHAA!!!” ……Uh-oh.
I was unable to check my email all morning, couldn’t download show prep, I couldn’t play audio, I couldn’t print - NOTHING!….. I was fuming.
So when Fishboy arrived at the studio about 9am, word had spread about what he’d done. His prankster-legend status was starting to amass. We were in the process of wrapping up our morning show when he poked his head in the studio.
“Uh, Lissa” he said, almost too politely “You realize all you had to do was log me off your system and log back on as yourself, right? I didn’t mean to totally f%&k up your day. I just wanted to f%&k up the first ten-fifteen minutes. I’m sorry!”
“Oh.” I looked at the floor. “No…. I didn’t realize that. Now I feel quite stupid. And halfway remorseful for calling you a dirty ***gobbler who likes to **** on his **** ****…… “
He raised his eyebrows.
Here’s the final tally I guess: Fishboy=2, Lissa=1.
Well played, my aquatic counterpart! Well played. And by the way – that photo of you from New Years Eve? Nice touch. I almost lost my pop-tart.
As I roll through yet another Friday on NO SLEEP (had an appearance last night at Beer Boys – no time to go to bed) I can’t help but notice that there are storm clouds gathering in the sky on the ONE DAY I would’ve possibly had time to go for an afternoon run. Thanks a pantload, Mother Nature. You beeotch.
Oh well, probably best to nap anyway. I’m hosting at Scranton Hardware Bar tonight – come out for the “Best Screamer Contest”!
Fishboy and I are still waging war on each other, but we’ll hafta call a momentary truce on June 26. Mohegan Sun at Pocono Downs – EDDIE MONEY is coming! You hear that, Fishy? (Eddie Money is one of the first things we bonded about – in addition to our love of fart jokes and German beer.)
So I know Kelly K, Fishboy,and K-Mak are with me on the Eddie Money love. Rocky & Sue – definitely not. Jeff & Amanda – here’s hoping! I promise lemon drop shots for the entire KRZ crew if you will come with me to this show!
I’m gonna go buy tickets right now…….
Have a GREAT WEEKEND everybody – be safe!
P.S. Kay......... got my tickets. Ninth row. Not too shabby! Just goes to show - even though I could prrrrrobably get free passes through the station, I’ll STILL buy them. Cuz “probably” just ain’t good enough. Not when it comes to the Money man.
When I started here at KRZ (my third day actually) I noticed that one of our computers in the main studio had been left logged onto Facebook. It was Fishboy’s account. At this point, I had not yet met Fishboy. I figured this would be the perfect opportunity to see what kind of person he really was. I’d f%#k with his Facebook profile and if he thought it was funny – we’d be friends. If he got offended – wellllllll……..
Either way, this was gonna set the tone for our working relationship henceforth.
So…..I changed his profile picture to a dog taking a crap. And I changed his status update to indicate that he was coming out of the closet.
Childish, yes. But pretty basic as far as practical jokes go. (In retrospect, I realize that this was probably NOT the best way to make new friends).
Luckily Fishboy has a fabulous sense of humor and he laughed it off. BUT….. he reminds me EVERY SINGLE DAY that he will get his revenge. And it WILL be massive. And that threat……that alone……scares the bejeezus outta me.
See, that’s the brilliance of the “threat”. I don’t know when it’s coming. So I live in constant fear.
And Fishy has no boundaries!!!!!! Lemme remind you – he was gonna pull Rocky’s pants down in front of a gym full of impressionable junior high students at a CHARITY FUNCTION a mere two weeks ago, just because Rocky ACCIDENTALLY pushed him into horse manure during the St.Patty’s Day Parade…...Fishboy takes his revenge very seriously.
So last night I drove alllllllllll the way back to the radio station in the middle of the night because I remembered at like 1am that I'd left one of the computers logged onto Facebook. All I could picture was Fishboy laughing maniacally as he changed my profile pic to a sperm whale and posted some fake STD test results for the world to enjoy.
This would devastate my family and no doubt excommunicate me from any past or present suitors. I can’t have that – so I made the drive (in my jammies) and rectified the situation. When I got back home, I went back to sleep for a half an hour, and then it was time to get back up and go to work again!…… What a pain in the ass.
And all because I wanted to laugh at a coworker for fifteen minutes. A year ago. Was it worth it? Actually... kinda, yeah. It was a really GOOD picture of a dog taking a crap.
I think somebodyâs trying to tell me to watch Captain America reruns. Â I saw this tire cover at the store today and my friend Dan was wearing a Captain America tee the other dayâ¦..I think it's a sign from God.
Do you remember that cartoon being on Saturday mornings?
It was like must-see TV. Iâm trying to think of all the DVDs I wanna add to my collection, and oddly enough MOST of them are from Saturday mornings. Or right after school:
Thundercats, Fantastic Four, He-Man, Sub-Mariner, Transformers (the original), Saved By The Bell, Looney Tunes (I already have three of the Golden Collection DVD sets), Underdog, Â Mighty Mouse, Heckle & Jeckle, Garfield & Friends, Chip & Dale, Pound Puppies, the original Ghostbusters, You Canât Do That On Television, Hey Dude
I know I'm missing a few. I mean, this MUST be a sign, right?â¦â¦â¦
I had a “who’s on first” moment yesterday at Zumba. I don’t run around the dance studio telling everyone I’m on the radio (cuz let’s face it – that would be even sadder than my macaroni & cheese Thanksgiving) but most of the people know about my KRZ connection and they’ll ask me about stuff on the show quite a bit.
Among my favorite questions:
-Are Rocky & Sue really married?
-Does Joe Snedeker smell good?
-Who writes your scripts?
-What do you do if the CDs have scratches?
The answers (in case you’re curious): yes, Rock & Sue are REALLY married. Joe Snedeker smells like lilacs. Mixed with indifference. Scripts have no place in radio unless you’re doing a commercial for taxidermy and you're trying to dance around the word “beaver”. CDs also have no place in radio. Unless your accountant shows up and starts informing you of all the investment opportunities that will NOT be made available to you if you choose to STAY in radio. In that case, CDs are at the top of the list.
So this lady comes up to me last night after Zumba and says “Hey!I heard you today on the radio!”
Me: Oh? Cool. Thanks for listening.
Her: Yeah, it said the Rocky & Sue show but they were gone and it was that other girl……Lissa.
Me: Yeah that’s me.
Her: Yeah I like that girl. She’s smart. Is she on during the weekend sometimes?
Me: Yup. That’s me. I’m Lissa….
Her: I like how sometimes she jokes with Joe Snedeker, and then he tells her she’s hot. And then she laughs.
Me: Yeah, Snedeker’s a character. Gotta love him. You do realize you’re talking to Lissa right now, right?
Her: Well, tell Rocky & Sue that I like that girl. They should keep her. Hey did you know Rocky & Sue are married?
Me: Really? I’ll be damned…..
Wowwww…… Just goes to show that sometimes people are in a “conversation” but it’s very clearly a monologue. They occasionally take breaths and pause for responses but they are in NO way listening to what the other person is saying. Ha! Oh well. Nice enough lady. And it confused the hell out of her when one of the other instructors walked up to me and said “Have a good night Lissa! See you tomorrow!” Hahaa…..Iy-yi-yi……..hey did you know Rocky & Sue are married? ;p
Iâm sorry Mom â I know you probably wonât think this is funny, but that pic of Benjamin sleeping in his baby carrier, flipping me the bird? Hilarious! Your grandbaby is a hoot and a half.
Spent yesterday in NYC with my brothers, sis-in-law, and nephew Ben. It was a short visit but we always have SO much fun together! Definitely worth the drive. We laughed, soaked up the sun, strolled around the city, and ate some sinfully delectable food.
THIS was the clue my big brother gaveÂ Andy & IÂ as a way to find his hotel room when we get into the city...... he texts us: "hey guys - we're at the Sheraton. Our hotel room number is the same as the Simpsons' house number on Evergreen Terrace....." Hahaaaa - and you know what? We both knew it. 742. Watch TV much? Yeesh.
I am the queen of family/friend photo ops â I love capturing memories. So inevitably I asked a few random strangers to take a couple shots of us and then I offered to take some of them in return. One dudeâs response had us quoting him all day â he says âNo thanksâ then he points to the people heâs with and adds ââ¦weâre family.â As if being family negated their desire to have any photos together. He wasnât kidding either - he was dead serious. Ha!
So whether or not you like photos - please bear with me. I am simply bursting with fruit flavor at the excitement of sharing these pics! Hope you had an awesome Motherâs Day! And if you have any photos of YOUR baby flipping the bird, couldja pass âem along? Cuz evidently I think thatâs freakinâ hystericalâ¦â¦
Happy mother-flippin’ Mothers Day weekend! I miss my mommy. She’s in Michigan. She’s probably making cookies right now. Or doing secret government work. She's an enigma, that one. She's the only person I know who can effectively fold a fitted bedsheet. AND she knows all the names and food allergies of every kid I EVER went to gradeschool with. Not kidding.
Sometimes I’ll call her in the middle of the day and I literally have NOTHING to say. I’m like “whatcha doin?” ….and we end up talking for like two hours.
That’s the beauty of Moms – no one else will EVER be that interested in listening to you spout sentence fragments and ramble. And it’s GENUINE interest! I could call my mother right now and describe in detail how I flossed my teeth yesterday……and the day before…..and the day before that…..and the day before THAT…….and she’d be like “Well hey! A four day flossing streak! Good for YOU Lissy Lou!”
I love that. If you bragged to any other human about your flossing frequency they’d just tilt their head to one side and slowly back away from you. Like when you see a bear in the wild.
So whether your mom is near or far, give her mad props on Sunday, okay? I mean, you stretched out her lady parts, for cryin’ out loud! Now every time she laughs she probably pees a little because of you. Ya jerk. Flowers are the LEAST you can do.
And if your mom is no longer living, honor the OTHER mothers by whipping out nine or ten “You’re momma’s so fat” jokes at church on Sunday. The congregation will love it!
I’m gonna be spending MY Sunday with the fam in New York - Jason, Sara, Baby Ben, Andy, Devon, um…..Tito…..Jermaine…
It’ll be extra special because it’s my sis-in-law Sara’s very first Mothers Day (she’s Ben’s Mommy). I got her a really cool present. Even better than dental floss.
The only thing missing on Sunday will be my folks. (Insert sad emoticon). But Mom - if you’re reading this (cuz I know you ARE) we will definitely call you multiple times throughout the day!!! We’ll do that annoying thing where we all get on speaker phone at once and describe to you what we’re eating….. and doing…..and watching on TV. And you’ll pretend it’s adorable. Cuz you’re adorable. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!
Happy weekend everybody! Rock it. And I’ll talk to you on Monday.
CINCO DE MAYO party tonight! Yeah, I like to be one of those idiots who celebrates a holiday at full steam when I honestly have no freakin' clue what the holiday is even about. At least I admit it.
I’m gonna nap all afternoon, then I’ve got two Zumba classes, and THENNNN we’re hitting DTWB (downtown Wilkes Barre) for some adult bevvies and tortilla-based crudités. At midnight, it’s off to WB Movies 14 for “Thor” in 3D!
I might be a tired little burrito tomorrow....
*Hey – if you missed it, here’s footage of Joe Snedeker from WNEP TV using pics of Rachel & I from Jerry Springer to help point out weather patterns. Ha! I love it! Joe’s hysterical. Best weather guy ever....
Anybody game for a midnight showing of “Thor” on opening night? Here’s what I’m picturing: Thursday we go out for some “Cinco De Mayo” crazytimes and then meander down to WB Movies 14 for a lil 3D Thor action! Is that NOT the textbook definition of a perfect night?! The only drawback: I wouldn’t have time to go to bed before work so I’d hafta do Friday morning’s show on no sleep…….this is getting to be a recurring theme for me. (Should I be worried that I actually seem to be WAY funnier when I'm running on no sleep?)
My big brother Jason (the one with baby Ben) saw an advanced screening of Thor last night – here’s the email he sent to me & our other brother, Andy, this morning:
“As a Marvel true believer, I thought it was great. It was fairly true to the comics, though they did make a few minor changes to some supporting characters. If you know nothing about Thor and/or Norse mythology, you may find some parts a bit confusing. The action and special effects were great, and the acting wasn't bad at all. The guys playing Thor and Loki were especially awesome, and I wasn't annoyed by Natalie Portman. As always with a Marvel movie, stay after the credits. If I say much else it'd be a spoiler, and I don't want to do that.”
Hmmmm…….with his endorsement, I'm even MORE intrigued! So if you happen to see a perky brunette in a Def Leppard t-shirt and Cinco de Mayo sombrero at midnight wandering around the theater......it's probably me. Please come say hi! And feed me nachos. Cuz I'll probably be very drunk.
P.S. TINA! My darling Cincinnati bestie - I hope you have an AWESOME birthday today! I love you and miss you and I'm SO glad I got to call you this morning at the pre-crack of dawn and wake your ass up!!!! HAHAHAA! Eat it. And eat some cake.
How white trash is it that Me, Rachel, K-Mak (KRZ overnight guy), Rocky, Sue, and Kong were drinking before noon yesterday on our way to Connecticut to see a Jerry Springer taping? The only thing that elevated us from being 100% knuckle-dragger was the fact that we were in a limo.
The taping was everything Iâd hoped it would be. Within five minutes, we got curses, boobies, and bloodshed. Niiiiiiiiice.
Subject of the show: âcheaters revealedâ! No word yet on when our episode will air but Iâm sure weâll announce it on our show to give you a heads-up. Look for us in the second row. Weâre extremely visible.
Jerry and his staff were incredibly sweet. They hung out with us afterward and let us have our way with their set. Made for some innnnnnteresting photo ops. Credit goes to Rachel for having the awesome idea to pose like we were girl-fighting. Then EVERYBODY started taking fight photos. Should I be worried that I felt completely at home being on the Jerry Springer stage, locked in a girl-girl hairpulling throwdown with one of my close friends?
(By the way â in the photo where Rachel & I are âfightingâ over K-Mak, look how difficult it was for him to hide the fact that he was smilingâ¦â¦.)
I just found out that you donât hafta pay tolls on the turnpike if you go through the booth in a wet t-shirt. Yeah. Weird, huh? Mother Nature made me conduct this experiment. It only works if thereâs a dude inside the booth though â change machine doesnât really care either way. I went out in this hurricane and managed to get completely soaked in under two minutes.
The toll booth guy looked at me, looked at my drenched torso âYouâre good darlinâ..... Go ahead.â
Haaaa â sweet. A dollar ten saved. I can always tell how cute Iâm looking (or not looking) by whether or not I get a toll booth freebie. Today surprised me - really. I think I look like hairy roadkill. Especially since I never went to bed last night (whoopsâ¦.. but it was worth it â âConcert For A Causeâ ROCKED!)
I stayed up all night after the concert because I hafta be up each day by 2am anyhow, sooooo.....after drivingÂ a veryÂ intoxicated K-Mak (lovable KRZ overnight guy) back toÂ hisÂ castle in Nanticoke, I just decided to stick it out.
I am very much regretting that decision now.Â I am Zombie Lissa. Crabby, blinky, feasting on the good moods of others...... I feel bad for Rocky & Sue today. I plan toÂ repay them byÂ sparing their lives when I go on my apnea-fueledÂ zombie rampage. That's the least I can do.
Â This afternoon I get to sleep for six hours and then Iâm at The Colosseum with Coors Light from 9pm to 11pm â stop by! Iâm giving away N.E.R.D. tickets!â¦â¦.and hugs. Lots and lots of hugs. Not kidding. Try me. I may or may not devour your soulÂ (zombies are wacky like that).
Picture this: I’m at Walmart. Checkout counter. Six people in line behind me. Cashier “Lucy” is chatty. I mean CHAT-TEE!!! And nosy! She’s asking questions about literally every item I’m purchasing. I have dread in my stomach because I know I have several gym-related items in my basket (sports bra, socks, deodorant, body wash, ponytail holders, etc.) and I know it’s only a matter of time til she manhandles each of those things and says something weird like “Hm. Deoderant. Is this cuz you smell like monkey farts? Are you a person who smells like monkey farts? Big juicy monkey farts?….” (I jest of course, but you never know. People like Lucy make me uncomfortable.)
So I plopped my stuff down. Sure enough, within seconds she goes “Hey. Ya know what I do? Sometimes I wear TWO sports bras because I sweat right through the first one and it gets loose. That’s what I do. You ever do that?”
“Um….nnnno.” I was almost whispering. I could feel my face getting red. I frantically started swiping my debit card. I WANTED to say: “Ya know what I do? I mind my own f%#king business. That’s what I do…” But decided against it.
Then…….I hate to even re-live this, but something unspeakable happened: Lucy actually STOPPED WORKING so she could continue our little conversation! STOPPED!!! WORKING!!!! No more checking out. No more beepy thingy. She was actually holding my deodorant and using it to gesture to me. “Well you probably don’t hafta worry about that –you’re not old and FAT like me! Hawhawhaw!!!”
AAAAAA!!! What the hell am I supposed to say to that?
I wanted to crawl outta my skin. People are staring and rolling their eyes at this point - I’m praying to God silently: “Lord…. please kill me by dropping one of these fluorescent lights on my head or use your unfathomable omnipotence to make her resume work. I beg of you. Oh……. and the world peace thing.”
My prayer worked. I finished up and bolted outta that store faster than a sperm outta Kevin Federline.
When I got to my car, I noticed my cheeks were bright red. Why is it that I can be in front of thousands of people in an audience and not be nervous at all, but when a nosy cashier asks me a couple personal questions, I feel like I wanna die?
I’ll tell you what I THINK it is: I think I’m connected to other humans on a whole different level. I was actually feeling bad for every other person in that checkout line, because I knew they felt bad for me. I was uncomfortable because THEY were uncomfortable. THEY were uncomfortable because they could tell I was uncomfortable. It’s circular.
And I hafta say, more than ANYTHING else - I felt bad for Lucy. Cuz God love her, she’s just NEVER gonna have adequate social skills. She’s fifty (at least) and I doubt that ANY person ANYWHERE has EVER looked forward to a conversation with her. She will forever be avoided at dinner parties. And I bet she doesn’t even notice…………. Yet she noticed I bought TWO different brands of toothpaste…….Yeah. People are strange.
Okay, I don’t know who slept with Mother Nature…or maybe you got her drunk….whatever the case – that day she gave us yesterday was GORGEOUS!!! When I walked outside in the afternoon there were kids playing basketball in the parking lot. If there’s a sweeter sound than kids playing outside in springtime, I don’t know it. I smiled.
There were two girls, two boys. Probably about eight years old-ish. They waved to me. I was like “Hey guys! Looks like fun!” Almost immediately I regretted those words. The one little girl was like “You can play!”…………………..uh-oh …………..…um, no I can’t.
I froze. I didn’t wanna play. Or rather, I should say, I didn’t wanna take them up on their offer and then hafta live with the excruciating shame of getting my ass handed to me by second graders. How do I indicate to these poor innocent children (who, by the way, until 4pm yesterday thought I was very cool) how much I truly suck at basketball?
I told the little girl I would love to, but I had to get to dance class. So then she goes “Okay. Well watch me shoot a three throw real quick”……Haaaaa…..three throw. I said “you got it.”
Turns out, this kid plays for the WNBA in some parallel universe. She sunk four in a row! And the last two, she did standing on one foot! Yowza. I clapped and cheered “Sweetie, that’s amazing! You’re really good!”. She tosses me the ball. “Here. It’s easy. Just try one.”
Ahhhhhh, dammit.……………………..so I did.
And in that brief five-second period I saw the look on those kids’ faces turn from admiration to pity. What a tragic transition. I sent the ball careening OVER the backboard, not even close. They broke into hysterics. Poor little whats-his-name sprinted off into the bushes to retrieve their ball. I felt lower than dirt. Not only do I suck at a child’s game, but I managed to create a NEW game for the young –uns. Called “go retrieve Billy’s basketball after pathetic single lady from next door chucks it into the ditch.”
“Good try anyway,” said the little female mini-Shaq. Awww, how sweet. She cares enough to lie. Then she points to the boom box sitting on the ground “Next time you can be in charge of the radio”. Ouch. Wow. Haven’t heard those words since I myself was in the second grade. I was told the same thing back then – “you can be in charge of the music”.
Stick to whatcha know Lissa. Stick to whatcha know. It’s simple. Music = happy children & dignity kept. Basketball = ball in the bushes & self-nullifying humiliation. Make a note of it. Yes, spring is here. But sadly my game never will be.
Elton was AMAZING! He played for THREE HOURS!!!! Deb The Diva and I were on our feet the entire time, singing, dancing, probably annoying the hell outta everyone else in our section. It was great to be able to experience that concert with Deb because she’s just as passionate about music as I am. And to her credit, she only laughed at me a couple times for crying – ha! I didn’t SOB or anything, but I definitely teared up when he did “Your Song” (cuz that always makes me think of my Daddy), and then again during “Burn Down The Mission” (cuz that one is my all-time FAVORITE Elton song. It kicks so much ass).
I would like to point out TWO things about the show however: First - there’s a special place in Hell for people who yell “sit dowwwwwwwn” at rock concerts. Yes, it’s Elton John. And yes, perhaps you would expect a certain level of decorum from the demographic he attracts, but ya know what? Too bad. It’s a freaking concert. If you can’t handle dancing, singing, and people getting INTO the music, you shoulda stayed home. Sit on your plastic-covered couch with your prunes and your Farmers’ Almanac, listen to him on 8-track, and wait for death. You suck.
Second – I LOVE THE PEOPLE WHO WERE TAILGATING IN THE PARKING LOT BEFORE THE SHOW!!!! Aaaaaahahahahaaa!! You guys rock. I’ve never seen tailgaters in khakis before. Deb & I were laughing our asses off.
Then on Saturday I went with Len & K-Mak (otherwise known as your favorite KRZ overnight guy) to Brews Brothers West for the Billy Joel tribute band, “52nd Street”…….Oh. My. Guh. SO GOOD! If you would’ve closed your eyes, you’d have been hard pressed to tell a difference. And it wasn’t just the lead guy. The entire band was excellent.
The three of us did extensive damage to our livers before, during, and after the show. I mean really.....really....wow. I could’ve whacked K-Mak with a two by four when I got a text from him early the next day saying he was ready for round three. Ugh. I hardly ever drink and when I DO, I’m usually not interested in doing it again for a good 4-5 days. But K-Mak is special (read: a little touched in the head). I think he’s part cyborg. I would’ve paid to see him stumble drunkenly through the house as he was trying to play secret Easter Bunny for his girlfriend, though. She’s very sweet - she pretended not to hear him rattling around. Much like she pretends NOT to notice that he sometimes wears underwear OVER his pants. Yeah….. As I said, she’s very sweet.
That’s another thing I realized as I’m sitting in the bar Saturday night –a LOT of people go out & get hammered, THEN go home and play drunken Easter Bunny for their kids. Ha! I didn’t realize this was so common. Is that why I used to find random things like the remote control and a map of Utah in my Easter basket when I was young? I thought my parents were losing their marbles. Or telling me to watch more TV and possibly turn Mormon. But nowwwww it all makes sense.
My brother Jason just sent me this email, along with some new pictures of my nephew:
âBen was channeling his Aunt Lissa for this set since he had a blast playing on a grand piano with his Mom. As soon as he figured out that it made noise he took right to it. Banging on things is one of his new favorite pass times, along with chomping his gums (no teeth yet, but they're coming) and blowing spit bubblesâ¦..â
Awwwww â playing piano, chomping his gums, and blowing spit bubbles! Yep, just like Aunt Lissa.
I am SO touched every time I see a photo of Benjamin at a piano. (I really shouldâve just ended that sentence after âI am so touchedâ, right? Probably a little more accurate.) I really do hope he grows up to appreciate music. Â He already enjoys the sound of instruments â this is a good sign.
And while weâre hovering around the subject of piano â HAPPY ELTON JOHN DAY TO YOUUUU!!! Elton is at Mohegan Sun Arena tonight â he is my absolute IDOL!!!! Iâll beÂ at the showÂ screaming my face off with Deb The Diva! If you see me, come up & say hi! And donât be surprised if youÂ catch me at Brews Brothers West on Saturday night too for the Billy Joel tribute act (52nd Street). Iâve heard great things .
Arrrright, letâs get this weekend started!!!! Elton tonight, Billy Joel tribute tomorrow, looking forward to finally getting all my crap put away at the new house, and maybeâ¦juuuuuust maybeâ¦..the Easter bunny will bring me something other than a hangover this year.Â
I have flap pockets on my pants today and I just realized that one of the flaps has been cut with scissors. I have no idea when this happened. Or how it happened. These pants literally have not been out of my jurisdiction since I bought them a year ago. What the hell?
Now I'm looking at every person in the hallway today like "did YOU cut my pants?" When of course I know they didn't. I am completely animal crackers.
Stuff like this has a way of happening to me. A couple years ago, I was onstage with my band and I looked down and my microphone had a tiny Budweiser sticker on it. I have no idea how it got there. That microphone was literally never out of my hand unless I was packing it up with our equipment at the end of the night. Yet somehow……it got a Budweiser sticker on it. Hm.
I think somebody’s following me around doing random stuff to my possessions just to screw with me.
It's happened in my car too. A CD was in my car stereo the other day that I don't even remember owning! Aaaa! What is going ON?
WHOEVER YOU ARE - SHOW YOURSELF! Stop screwing with me!!! I can’t handle it.
OR…..perhaps…..I’m doing all this stuff myself and it's simply a direct result of putting my forehead against the microwave.
Yep, I think the transition into “crazy old lady” is gonna be a very smooth one for me.
If I stick my fist in a jar of honey, that doesn’t make me cute like Winnie the Pooh. If I drizzle chocolate sauce on my index finger and lick it off, it is NOT sexy (trust me). These are my dinner ideas. At least until I get a fridge in my new house. I’ve resorted to scavenging and trying to make meals out of random spices & condiments.
Oh, AND I take leftovers from the station. Now THERE’S an adventure. For those of you who don’t know – radio stations are legally prohibited from stocking healthy food. Ever. It’s the “Law of the Greasy DJ” I think……Deep fried cheese nuggets and jalapeno poppers evidently make people very witty. Cuz that’s all I’ve ever seen radio peronalities eat. Even our gum is breaded. It’s disgusting. So I very much look forward to finding a fridge and going back to judging my friends at work for what THEY eat while I pick through my individualized pre-packed salad with dressing on the side. Yeah, I'm maybe a little anal about my eating habits. Wait....."anal".....""about eating"..... did that just sound gross to anybody else?
The cable guy came yesterday and while he was hooking up my TV he was telling me about the people who lived in the house before me. He’s like “Man, I used to do service calls here all the time - you shoulda seen this place before you moved in. It was suuuuuch a craphole! Those people were PIGS! They had four kids, animals, junk everywhere….it was nasty….I don’t think they even cleaned up after the animals!”….
Oh good. That’s what I wanna hear. So now I’m paranoid that I’ll stumble upon some unresolved varmint droppings in the midst of my cleaning….. but I’m probably safe. They put new carpet in every room AND new paint. That’s safe, right?............ Or should I be looking for kitty turd-shaped lumpies painted into my moldings? Aww, just once I'd like to move into a house where I didn’t hafta ask that.
All my crap is piled haphazardly around my new house. No rhyme or reason. One box had microphone cords, stiletto heels, and Zumba weights. Another contained mittens, family photos, and bubble bath. I was apparently very drunk when I packed these boxes.
My brother Andy came over on Sunday to help me with the big stuff. I really do have the best brothers in the world. They do so much for their sister with very little in return. Wait…scratch that….NOTHING in return. Unless you count hugs. As I was throwing stuff into my new closets I held up a pair of open-toed strappy sandals and remarked to Andy “Ya know, every time I move I’m reminded how many CUTE SHOES I have!”…… He chuckled. “Yeah sis - I think the same thing every time I move.” And in that moment realized how very much I appreciate my brothers putting up with the stupid stuff I say. And do.
When I was six I put red nail polish all over my lips because I thought it would stay there semi-permanently (like nail polish on a fingernail). Surely that makes sense, right? I mean, if nail polish stays on a nail for 10-14 days, then theoretically I shouldn’t hafta reapply lipcolor every few hours LIKE AN IDIOT. This would free up my six year-old schedule to tend to matters that are more pressing – such as business meetings and power lunches. I thought I was really on to something - how could the “geniuses” at Loreal NOT have thought of this? I figured they must be morons. Hey, I was six. But when I stepped outta my room, nailpolish all over my face, saw my brothers and raised my eyebrows like“Ta-DA!”, they just smiled and nodded. They did not tease me. At least not right then.
That seems to be the definitive theme in my relationship with my brothers: them smiling and nodding at me. A lot. They get me. So when I say things like “Before you go, will you walk through my house and do a quick rapist check, just to make sure nobody snuck in while the door was unlocked and hid in my basement, waiting to rape me?”
“Sure” he said. Like it made total sense. Cuz you know what? In the Lissa world…..it DOES. And when he visits in a month, after all my stuff is settled and my house looks all purdy, I’ll probably make him do another one. Cuz you can never do too many rapist checks. Especially when I sashay around the neighborhood with these oh-so-sexy red nail polish lips. Just TRY to keep the boys away!
Advice from an elder is like one of those free calendars at the bank: just cuz it’s free and it makes THEM happy, doesn’t mean I want it. An older radio industry friend of mine just gave me some “words of wisdom”. Not only were they completely useless words, they could’ve been potentially harmful if I'd listened to them. I seriously think this person was trying to set me up to look a little stupid. Ha! I gawt DAT alllll unduh cun-trol.... fanks!
Sometimes I wonder if people in this industry forget what it was like to LOVE music and be PASSIONATE about radio. I wonder why it pisses them off that I don’t hafta use reel to reel and change carts. Is new technology simply a metaphor for young people in general? Do they really hate US? I’m sure sometimes yes.
I respect anyone who’s been in radio for more than a decade – that’s no small feat. And I acknowledge that some of the older audio systems were actually superior in many ways to the technology we use now. For instance, as a songwriter/recorder I can attest – analog kicks digital ass for depth and warmth. Hands down. I’m with the older generation on this one. And I do find something inexplicably sexy about old-school radio when everything wasn’t so homogenized and the DJs were actually awarded for being rebels. I mean how could that NOT be cool?
But just because something’s been around for a quarter century, doesn’t mean it’s quality. Could mean it’s just been a crappy, relatively complacent quarter century. I wish we could all play nice in this industry and take the benefits of BOTH age groups, share our knowledge, and work together to form one ultra-super-mega-huge radio POWERHOUSE! Instead of being threatened by each other.
Young people need to learn when to shut up and listen. We don’t know as much as older people. Period. The elder generation, however, could settle down a little bit with their disdain in reminding us every five minutes that we don’t know what it’s like to do radio BEFORE COMPUTERS (no sh!t) and the last concert they actually ENJOYED was Crosby, Stills, & Nash. Don’t hate on new music, kay? Music is the lifeblood of radio. If you don’t LOVE music (I mean LOVELOVELOVELOOOOOVE it) – move over. That’s when you’re done. The day you’re only going to concerts that your station SENDS you to - you’ve passed your expiration date.
My point is this (and I’m speaking directly now to the old person who just tried to set me up to look like an idiot): This industry ROCKS and I feel bad for you if you don't realize that. I’m sorry you’re bitter and I’m sorry if you think you should be more famous than you are, but I’m not jaded and I hope I NEVER will be. I still think we have the coolest f&#king job on the planet and I thank God every day that I’m lucky enough to do it!
So let’s all be helpful to each other, capeesh? Cuz someday, you never know..... you may need help programming your VCR when it won’t stop blinking twelve o’clock and you CAN'T miss "Murder She Wrote"!!! It's a good one!! I mean... I assume you still use a VCR, right? AAAHAHAHAAA – c’mon, I’m allowed to get ONE in there!! ;)…. Just kidding. Love!
P.S. In case you were wondering – I am NOT referring to anyone here at KRZ in this post. I tend to disregard their advice too, but that’s just cuz I’m a jerk.
I was recently a very bad judge of character. Ever do that? Totally misjudge somebody? I wish it was the opposite way and I had expected something BAD about this person and then found out I was wrong. But sadly no. I expected the GOOD for once and now I’m very cognizant of why I DON’T expect the good in people very often. I’m talking about a male specifically, but it goes both ways. Chicks can act shady too. I just experience more negative vibes from males because they’re the ones most often trying to get in my pants. You know how that goes.
From now on, I’m gonna expect the worst in people and just hope to be pleasantly surprised. This will replace my OLD strategy of “making excuses for others until I’ve been mistreated to the point of feeling like a rented farm animal.” I’ll give it a week and letcha know how it goes.
On to HAPPIER THINGS! It is……THE WEEKEND! Here’s my rundown:
Tonight: Scranton Hardware Bar for the PAJAMA PARTY! No cover if you wear your PJs. $500 Sexy Pajama Contest. Best In Bed Contest – you could win a free cruise to the Bahamas! Dollar drinks & dollar bottles ten to midnight – Octane on stage!
Tomorrow: Zumba, then on the air from 3pm to 7pm. Afterwards, going to the Penguins game with a couple KRZ peeps. If you see us out, say hi!
Sunday: my brother Andy is coming to help me move into my new house!!! Yay! It won’t take us long cuz it’s just next door to my current apartment. Can’t WAIT! Should be all settled by the time the Simpsons are on.
That is all. HAVE A FANTABULORRIFIC WEEKEND!! :D Be safe!
Ever realize you’re acting like a colossal bunghole to everyone around but you can’t seem to stop? Usually happens to me when I haven’t gotten enough sleep. I have “attitude”. Even when I was a kid, if I skimped on sleep, my folks or my brothers would be like …”uh, Lissa, you seem a tad touchy today. Did you sleep last night?”…..”YES, DAMMIT!!! I GOT PLENTY OF SLEEP! FEELIN LIKE A MILLION BUCKS! THIS IS HOW I NORMALLY AM! WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM? YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT!”….....They’d just nod. “Mm-hm.”
Then the next day I’d come to them all apologetic, like “Jeesh, I’m sorry. I dunno what got into me yesterday. Sorry about the attitude. You were right – I DIDN’T get enough sleep.” Again they’d nod. “Yeah I know.”
I already issued a pre-emptive “please excuse me” to everyone here at KRZ because little Lissy Lou didn’t get enough shut-eye last night. I’m a veritable ticking time bomb. If I make it til noon without telling someone to go ____ themselves it’ll be a wonder.
But let’s look at it this way: I usually have an abnormally HAPPY disposition. So much so that other people often get annoyed and ask if I’m “on” something. Umm…nope. I’m just always smiley, cheerful, perky. …..It even bugs the crap outta ME sometimes. So these little “no-sleep” fundays where I send my bitchy stunt double to do my bidding just evens out the scales a bit.
Later today, everyone here at the station will be minding their own business, doing their office work, and that’s when Charlie from accounting will go …..”Whoa. Did Lissa just tell me to go ____ myself?”……and somebody else will be like “duuuuude – you musta DESERVED it! She never acts like that!”……”But…but….all I did was borrow her stapler.” That’s right. Let this be a lesson to you.
On the other hand, I joke around so much people usually laugh in my face when I really DO get angry. I like that. It makes me recognize how thoroughly ridiculous I’m being. And then I kill them. Rest in peace, Charlie. You lived a good life. But you shoulda kept your grubby little mitts off my stapler.
First he asked what it would take to see me naked. My response? Five million dollars and a new personality. THEN he asked what it would take to get free concert tickets. My response? Befriend someone who is more generous than I. And STILL try to get that new personality.
I'm not an expert on interpersonal relationships when it comes to Facebook (as all the people I’ve ever offended say a collective “no sh!t”), but something tells me that even the densest person should know that it’s not okay to add request somebody and then in the first FIVE MINUTES ask them for concert tickets or to see them naked. My answer to both queries was of course NO and I plan to delete this person as soon as they’ve had a chance to read this blog. Oh yeah, that’s the other thing: he reads all my blogs. He started citing some of my topics and even quoting me! Impressive. Or so it would seem.
After the naked/concert ticket requests both got negative responses, his NEXT question was “would you at least listen to my stuff if I sent you a CD of my band?” Ha! ...‘At least”……yes, chumly, that would certainly be THE LEAST I could do for you. After I so heartlessly deprived you of nudity AND concert tickets!
Loosely translated, when somebody asks you to listen to their CD, that means: I will give you three weeks to listen to this and discover how abundantly talented I am. If at that time you have NOT showered me with compliments and started playing my material in heavy rotation on your station, I will be forced to hate you and call you a conceited bitch until the second coming of our Lord. If I see you in public, I will chant “KRZ sucks!” and flip you off, even if there are children present.
When ANYONE (not just this guy) asks me to listen to their independent recordings, they should just say “Can I stab you in the eye with a meat thermometer, while you pretend to like it?” I’m not saying it’s ALWAYS bad, I’m just saying….usually if people have good music, they don’t have to beg other people to take it. The ratio of crap to non-crap is about what you’d figure.
Just for giggles, I DID go and listen to some of this guy’s stuff on my own. Just to see if maybe it WAS quality, even though he’s an ass. Well……….. I’ve never been kicked in the nuts. But now my ears have. Picture the ugliest person you know having sex with the most annoying person you know. And you’re forced to watch. I mean, wow. Really. Wow. This doofus even rhymed “testicles” with “chesticles” in one song…… I’m not kidding.
So…..like I said – Sir, if you’re reading this (cuz I know you ARE) I appreciate that you went the extra mile and pretended to be a fan of mine by quoting my blogs back to me. But I do not wanna supply you with concert tickets. Nor do I wanna show you my boobies. And your music sounds like head cheese tastes. I will be deleting you by the end of the day if you don’t delete me first. But I thought it might be kinda funny to let my clever & witty Facebook friends have their way with you first. I would like them to feed on your rotting carcass with their comments. Have a great day! And seriously try to work on that new personality if you get a minute.
Dogs can smell fear. Mechanics can smell ignorance. Iâm sure itâs similar to chum in shark infested waters. Boobs donât help either. Itâs one of those annoying stereotypes (that women donât know anything about cars) and I HATE that itâs usually true. Iâm living proof. I walked into a Cincinnati Pep Boys on Sunday morning, trying to explain how my car sounded like a constipated alligator. LOUD! GRUMBLY! One of the mechanics thought I was hilarious. Pretty sure the other dude thought I was a tad touched.
I obviously donât know how a car works, but I picture tiny little elves living under my car hood, working a series of pullies, gears, and levers to make my car go putter putter vroom vroom. Well, apparently on Saturday the head elf found out the foreman was sleeping with his wife, cuz ALL HELL BROKE LOOSE!!!
I was in Cincinnati visiting my friend Tina. The car âissuesâ began about two hours before I got there Saturday night. Of course by the time I arrived nothing was open. So instead we decided to go drink mass quantities of alcohol & eat soft pretzels dipped in processed cheese-like dippy yum sauce. Twas TASTY! (As a person who normally eats only fruits, veggies, and other granola-based substances, I figured Iâd try to make my stomach mimic those same sounds my car was making.)
Sunday afternoon they called with an estimate on the car: $700. Ouch.
Hereâs me: âI definitely donât have seven hundred dollars. I barely have seventy. Is it something thatâs gonna kill me on the way back to Pennsylvania?â His response: âNah, probably not. Just keep it about fifty, keep your windows open so the fumes donât gas ya, and donât hit any potholesâ¦.â . Fair enough. In my mind Iâm going ââ¦â¦No potholes. So Iâll be fine til I get to Wilkes Barre.â
It was an interesting ride home though. Never went over 55mph, windows cracked, torrential downpours, no radio (cuz I couldnât hear it anyway), and no phone cuz I couldnât hear that either. I was alone with my thoughts for twelve hours. Imagine that. I ran outta things to think about after five (and thatâs counting the time I played âRomy & Michelleâs High School Reunionâ in my head)â¦.
I needed a good weekend with friends though. SO glad I went! Good for the soul. And Iâm taking the car to MY BOYS at Jack Williams today â I GUARANTEE they wonât charge me no $700. Cuz theyâre awesome. And I plan to bribe them with soft pretzels.
If somebody would’ve told me ten years ago that I’d have the same best friends I did in high school & early years of college – I’d have thought they were crazy. Not because I doubted the character of any of my friends but I’m very aware of how often people can be torn apart by circumstances (career moves, relationships, kids, relocation, whatever)
I’m PROUD to say that I’ve maintained my besties from high school, especially Kelly & Shannon (two sisters - last name “Mattson” - if you’re on my facebook, you already know them. I love them now more than ever and miss them like crazy). And then there’s Crystal, Jess, and Tina. I acquired them in the early 2000’s – aka “college years”. We all stay in touch and STILL hang out even though we’re spread out over thousands of miles.
I’m SO happy that I’ve kept these people close because I think that’s how you measure success in life: by your people! I’m heading to Cincinnati tomorrow to visit the one and only TINA! Yay!!!!! (She’s the one who got matching tattoos with me back in September). We’ve made a pact to NEVER let six months go by without seeing each other. (It’s similar to the “American Pie” lose-your-virginity pact except nobody sleeps with Tara Reid and we don't defile baked goods. I don’t know what that means….)
Here’s my nagging worry though – they have FREE DRINKS TONIGHT AT SCRANTON HARDWARE BAR! I’ll be there with some of my ever-expanding NEPA posse, and I fear that I’ll be embarking on my road trip tomorrow in a somewhat hungover state.
Oh well………. I have road tunes, I have Tom-Tom, and I have alllllllllll my peeps on speed dial to keep me company. If you’re one of the unfortunate ones who happens to be saved in my phone – you may get a call tomorrow as I’m driving. I WILL be expecting you to entertain me……..dirty limericks welcome. Shakespearean monologues also welcome. MOST welcome of all: re-enactments of my favorite movies via phone. Slap Shot. Tommy Boy. Wayne’s World. Billy Madison. Start there.
HAVE A GOOD WEEKEND! I know I will!
I just ran out to grab some breakfast and I overheard this mom at the store bragging to another mom that her kid got into the “Harvard of daycares”. As she was talking, her toddler looked up at her with this blank stare that comically caused her to lean down and go “yes you are…yes you ARE going to the BEST daycare in TOWN!” Yeesh. She even did it in that high-pitched loathsome babytalk voice that makes me embarrassed to be female. Her kid jammed his fist in his mouth. Then he made a gurgly noise that kinda sounded like “Schembechler”…….
I felt bad for this baby! I couldn’t help but thinking that ironically, the expectations of an “Ivy League” daycare may just cause Junior to crack from the pressure and resort to eating glue sticks and pooping in shoes - ya know, all the stuff she’s trying to PREVENT by sending him to a child care facility that doesn’t allow commoners.
I mean, I’m just picturing ME as a baby and if someone had expected ME to demonstrate cognitive learning advances at such an early age, I simply would’ve proven that I could start disappointing my parents at ten MONTHS old, as opposed to ten years old. Fast forward ten MORE years and I’m sure I’d probably be a twitchy pale loner at Mime College, working vintage clothing stores, feverishly analyzing Woody Allen movies with my fifty-seven Troll dolls. Not a pretty picture, is it?
My point is: dangerous things happen when you expect too much too soon from your kids.
I’m so glad my parents were poor and relatively short on options. I was forced to integrate and never expected to overachieve. That way, my glue munching and shoe pooping probably came as little surprise to them. (Until I was twelve years old and STILL doing it...... Ha! Just kidding………. Or am I?). My accomplishments definitely seem to matter more because I EARNED them. I know it sounds corny but it’s true dammit.
I’m sure that lady in the store is a terrific Mommy, and maybe her kid WILL be leaps and bounds ahead of the others, but I want every parent to know: it’s okay if you DON’T send your kid to “Baby Haaaaaaaavuhd”. Read to them. Love them. Encourage them. But for crying out loud: let them be slackers until their souls are crushed by society in the CORRECT fashion: by a customer service job when they’re fifteen.
“OH! You’re Lissa?! I listen to you every day! Can I have a hug?!”
“Uhhhh…..I’m pretty sweaty right now…”
“I don’t care! Hahahaa – HUG ME!”
She yanks away immediately in a premature hug-kill. “Ew. Sweat”……um, yeah….TOLD YA!
This was the scene that played out last night after my second Zumba class. I love when people suddenly make the connection that I’m the SAME Lissa that’s on KRZ and they get all excited. It’s so cool! I love hearing that they listen every day (who WOULDN’T love hearing that, right?) but then inevitably…..they want a hug. Alllllllways with the hugs.
Now lemme set the record straight here – I ADORE HUGS! I much prefer them to handshakes actually. But it’s been a recurring theme in my life that people ONLY wanna hug me AFTER I’m sweaty. I do a lot of physically challenging fitness related activities and people always expect huggytime AFTER you’ve forged the bond of perspiration - never before. NEVER when I’m freshly showered & made-up. What is it about my glandular output that attracts other humans like hummingbird nectar?
I’ve always wanted to be one of those girls (and there are a few in my Zumba class - God love ‘em) who claim they never sweat. They’re like “Teeheehee - I don’t even NEED deoderant! I never sweat! I maintain a perfect 98 degree body temp even when I drink hot cocoa in the sauna and my nails are always perfectly manicured AND my farts smell like raspberry sorbet” ……Yeah. And then you see them after two hours of intense cardio and sure enough – they weren’t lying!!!!!! Motherf#%&ing aliens.
Alas, I am NOT one of those girls. I was born with the gift of humor and the gift of music. God had to cut corners somewhere. I sweat when I exercise. I look like the cover of Hole’s “Live Through This” CD by the end of every Zumba class. I've come to terms with that.
Here’s what scares me though: what if this is the ONLY contact these people ever have with me? What if I gain a reputation here in Northeast PA as the overly affectionate, eternally sweaty DJ who always says weird & inappropriate things? That ain’t good. Kay, I might just cry now. Somebody hug me. Wait. Lemme do a few hundred squats first…..
Isn’t it funny when you’re on Facebook and you see some dude who used to creep on you (or maybe you even dated him), and he’s saying the same exact things he used to say to you, but to a different girl? Hahaaa - I was on there five minutes ago and I swear this dude I dated (for only a nanosecond, but still) was calling some chick the EXACT same thing he used to call me AND he was using the same inside jokes! LAME!
I don’t mind, I just think it’s humorous. How very sincere he must be if there’s a finite amount of lovey-dovey phrases in his mixed bag and pet names can apparently be swapped out like underwear. Of course there are certain everyday pet names like “honey” and “baby” that we all use, but I’m talking those very individualized, PERSONAL things you used to say to each other.
I know this is terrible, but it’s gotten to the point where I just assume ALL guys do that. I’m convinced there are maaaaaaybe five or six authentically original, sincere dudes left on this planet. How jaded am I, right? But it’s true.
Hey, I may not say the right thing all the time but at least I haven’t resorted to interchangeable terms of endearment. Thank God.
MEMO to the guys who DO recycle their flirty talk: GIRLS TALK TOO!!!! We swap stories often, and we usually know what you’re up to. We recommend that you just get a blowup doll and an mp3 recorder. That way you can listen to yourself on repeat, spewing smarmy phrases while your manly needs are met. But hurry up – cuz even the blowup doll has higher conversational standards. Look at her. She’s saying “OH YEAH” in agreement.
Okay, so it’s already been a pretty kickass week for me: found the new apartment in Kingston, signed up for zumba certification, got Britney AND Whitesnake’s new CDs (no, not kidding about the Whitesnake), tomorrow my fave girl crush (Rihanna) is on the cover of Rolling Stone with a tell-all interview, AND I get to host the Chippendales show at Scranton Hardware Bar tomorrow night!
So the week could NOT get any better, right? WRONG! I got this video in my email first thing this morning and wow…….my heart MELTED! Ben is the next Hollywood leading man.
I don’t know what’s better – the baby's belly laugh or the fact that my brother’s singing STYX to him (niiiiiice)! I ask you to take a moment (humor me) and stand in awe of the wonder that IS my nephew. And also, of course, the wonder that is my brother’s singing….haaaaa…………. :D I LOVE IT!
Ben meets Styx...............
Ah, the employee restroom. Rife with uncomfortable human interaction. I was in there a moment ago and a friend of mine (read: coworker I actually like very much. Would speak to her on the street even if they didn’t pay me to) was in there, drying her hands underneath one of those hot-air hand blower things.
IF you ever find yourself in a Ladies’ Restroom with another chick (whether you know her or not) and one of you is forced to use those reprehensible hand blowers, it is inevitable that ONE of you will say “Man, I hate these things! I can’t believe there’s no paper towel!” Then the other girl will nod in agreement. You’ll proceed to giggle, smile, and bee-bop through some inane small talk. Probably about makeup and boys. (I made up that last part).
I’ve decided that next time I’m using a forced-air hand dryer and the other chick says “Man I hate those things….” I’m gonna go “Yeah, me too” and then rub my wet hands on her sweater. Why not? As women we try to make friends with each other, even in the most nonsensical situations (like in the bathroom) and I think it's abnormal and weird.
I’m joking of course – I would never rub my hands on another chick (unless there’s alcohol involved and she’s built like Rihanna) but my point is: however pleasant or casual the exchange between myself and another human, I will ALWAYS find a way to ruin it. Like in eleventh grade when the dude I had a MASSIVE crush on answered a question wrong in history class. I raised my hand and gave the correct answer , which was “The British are coming!” And then I looked at him and playfully added “to call you stupid” ……I laughed. He did not. Moment ruined.
Yesterday I went to the bank and the woman behind the counter was complaining about dark circles under her eyes. Her exact statement was “Why do I always look so TIRED? What is UP with these black circles? I look like Mike Tyson punched me!” ……and then she just stared at me. Demanding a response with her gaze. I froze. I wasn’t sure what sort of retort you’re supposed to offer up in a situation like this. Cuz she DID look tired. She DID have black circles. And if Mike Tyson were there, I would’ve asked him to punch her just so I didn’t have to speak.
So here’s the best I could do: “Sometimes it’s hard to sleep at night when it stays light so late in the evening.” WHAT, LISSA?! What the f%#k kinda response is THAT???? Oh……right. I forgot – you’re an idiot. I can’t bring myself to do the “woman” thing and reassure another chick that she looks awesome, when obviously she doesn’t. So instead I concoct a statement that is in NO way contributing anything to the conversation, yet it lets us move along to another topic. Moment ruined.
She looked at me, tipped her head to one side like a dog, and then changed the subject. And this, in itself, is a PERFECT example of why I don’t have a lot of female friends. In situations where there’s a common understanding of what you should and should NOT say, I will find a way to say the wrong thing. Sorry Eye-Circle Lady. I’m sure the next customer in line reassured you that you are truly radiant as a person. I, on the other hand, just wanted two rolls of quarters for my laundry. I’ll try to do better next time. Story of my life.
I get my Zumba certification on May 14 – can’t wait. I love to dance, I love fitness, and I love PEOPLE! I remember when I told Rocky I was trying Zumba for the FIRST time back in January and he was like “Don’t! Don’t do it Lissa – it’s a freakin’ cult! Once they getcha, they never let you go!” Haaaaaa…..he was joking of course, but actually…..he’s really kinda right. I tried it once and was hooked.
I was always a runner (and still am) but dancing works your muscles even better than running. Three nights a week turned into four or five, then pretty soon I was doing two classes a day. Then they started inviting me up in front of class to help teach the routines. Addictive personality anyone? Yeesh.
Combine four years of cheerleading/pom poms with a lifetime of Mom & Dad encouraging me to do stuff I wasn’t really qualified to do, and VOILA! I decided I NEED to get certified. It also may have something to do with the fact that my caffeined-up ridiculously euphoric personality is tired of hearing people say (almost disgustedly)…”DAMN girl, you gotta lotta energy! Either go be an instructor or gimme two pills of whatever you’re on.”
Hahaa – LIFE! My good sweaty friend, I am high on life. And music. I’ve always been that way. When I hear music it’s seriously IMPOSSIBLE for me to stand still. When I used to tour with my band, it didn’t matter how tired I was or how strung out and road-weary I felt, whenever I heard that first note it was like Jolt Cola times fifty. And I wouldn’t slow down til the music stopped.
Serenity Wellness & Dance Center in Luzerne is my studio du jour. They already have awesome instructors there (YO Jen, Arlene, Becky, Tabitha! Love!) but if I don’t start contributing soon, people are gonna start to wonder if I’m just a homeless person trying to live there or something.
Wish me luck! May 14 in Springfield, Massachusetts. Lissa gets certified. Or at least I hope……..gee, now if I fail I’ll reeeeeeeeally wish I hadn’t told you guys this.
Had brunch with my brother Andy in Jersey yesterday at this FABULOUS little place in Denville called “Doc’s Kitchen”. If you’re ever in the area, hit it. You’ll thank me. I left stuffed with a spinach, tomato, and feta cheese omelet and drove home listening to Fleetwood Mac. There are two things that signify summertime in my world: the song “Second Hand News” by Fleetwood Mac, and BASEBALL!
I am NOT a huge sports fan by any means, but I think when you grow up with a Dad and brothers who love sports, you’re just kind of initiated into that world whether you wanna be or not. I always resented it when I was young because I was determined to hate everything non-music and non-dance (yeah I was a chowder head). But now I’m an adult. At least on the outside. I get nostalgic for sports, and for my family being together. We used to go to Tigers games all the time (first at Tiger Stadium, then of course Comerica Park). FUN memories!
I find myself turning on the TV every weekend, and just leaving it on in the background like comfort food for my ears. I don’t sit there and watch it, but I put it on whatever sporting event my dad would probably be watching at home. Somehow I find it soothing. Wintertime I had hockey on constantly. Fall = football. Spring = I’m not ashamed to say I’ve flip-flopped between basketball and………..…um…televised…golf. Shut up! Withhold judgment please.
I am jealous as hell that my brother has tickets to go see the Tigers vs.Yankees this weekend! Argh! I’ll be sitting home like a loser, cleaning my house with all the windows open and watching the game on the tube. Wonder if I’ll see him!
I also wonder if my dad ever does the reverse and puts TV on to the station I would be watching if I were home, just cuz he misses me. If so, I hope he enjoys all those “Saved By The Bell” reruns. And “Yo MTV Raps”...... all I wanna do is zoom-a-zoom-zoom-zoom and a boom-boom. ….cuz SPRING IS HERRRRE!!! Wooooooooot! ~~~ check baby, check baby, one two three four.....;D
P.S. Happy Birthday to my beloved bestie Kelly Mattson who celebrated this weekend, and also my awesome cousin Chris Lamb! Both in Michigan. I love you guys :) Hugs!
HERE'S MY WEEKEND: work, sweat, drool, poop, laugh....... Lemme explain:
WORK â Iâm currently at the station, and will be this weekend as well (on the air Saturday from 3pm to 7pm â call me! Weâll exchange recipes! Spoiler alert: mines for âtoastâ). And I have some music related work to accomplish for a friend of mine this weekend â I promised to sing on a track heâs producing but then a month went by and I TOTALLY forgot about it â AAA! Dorkwad. So now I feel horrendous. Itâs at the top of my To Do List - and Jonah, if youâre reading this, I promise to do an extra super spectacular job on the vocal (even better than that time I did an acapella version of 2 Live Crewâs âMe So Hornyâ onstage at the Detroit Music Festival - haaaaaaaa)!
SWEAT â Tonight at 5pm Iâll be dancing my tushie off with the lovely Zumba girls at Serenity Wellness and Dance Center in Luzerne! What a perfect way to end a busy week. Iâll be there tomorrow morning too â Zumba Toning at 11am and regular Zumba Fitness at Noon. Come join us! You wonât regret it!
DROOL & POOP â This is hopefullyÂ only applicable to one person in my life - my darling nephew Ben. He is now five months old and can roll over and laugh and do all SORTS of cool new things! And I feel like Iâm MISSING IT ALL, being stuck here like a schmuck with work and plans and my idiotic menial little life! Every time he does something new my heart aches a little bit because my bro & Sara are describing it to me over the phone and Iâm not there to see it. But isnât that always the way? When you love a kid you wish you could be there for every second of their day. But thatâs just not reality. Unless youâre a loser with no plans and no job. Or a koala bear. I think they get to hang out with their cubs 24-7â¦..or at least 24-6. Lucky bastards.
So, not gonna see Ben this weekend but I do plan on calling my bro & sis in law and making them indulge me with several detailed stories about his daytimes, nighttimes, laughter, mannerisms, and yes â even his poop & drool. Those stories are usually funny.
My favorite line of the week came from my brother when he sent me this photo:
âHey Sis â Ben wore his first Spiderman shirt the other day and I was SO proud! Until he overflowed his diaper and had to be changed. Probably the work of Dr. Octopusâ¦.â
A man's home is his castle. A woman's home is her beauty salon/clothes closet/home gym/no-makeup sanctuary. My apartment lease is up in May and I've been fervently looking for a new place to call home. It's not that I dislike my current digs but they moved a smoker in below me a few months ago and I have this whole goofy hang-up about NOT wanting to die early. Lissy likey clean lungs.
And it’s not just the lung thing, it’s also the neighborhood. It’s always funny when I tell people where I live and they immediately respond with either “hey, didja know somebody just got stabbed over there?” OR “hey, I know a guy who stabbed somebody over there!”……yeah…. And they never act disgusted about the fact that they associate with the guy who’s going around stabbing people – they always just say it like you’d say “yeah, Hank sells me insurance”…….”yeah, Hank sometimes stabs people.”
Apparently “Stabby” has many friends. And they are relatively unfazed by his extracurricular activites.
In addition to the stabbings, breaking & enterings, smokers downstairs, drug dealers on the corner, and the pervert going through my laundry…..it’s also the water. “Water” you say? Yes. Water. I have not had hot water for more than seven minutes a day since I moved in. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen the mountain of cascading hair follicles Rapunzelling off my noggin, but let’s just say – ain’t NO WAY Lil Lissa Lou’s showering in less than seven minutes unless I maaaaajorly cut some corners. And I don’t wanna do that. Like Grandma always said: nobody likes a moldy DJ. So as a result, the last half of my showers are usually FA-REEZING! Grrrr.....
I filled out an application for a place in Kingston. It’s small, but cute and clean. No smokers in the building. No pets. No homicidal maniacs or drug dealers in the neighborhood. Perfect. I hope I get it! Keep your fingers crossed. There’ll be a grand housewarming party at some point, just not at my place. Too small. Can we have it at YOUR house? I’ll bring Stabby! He makes a helluva bean dip.
Could somebody PLEASE tell me what the F#@% is going on with vegans thinking they’re better than everybody? Yes, I eat vegan sometimes. Yes, I eat organic sometimes. But I was dining with some friends last night and I had to call out one of my besties cuz she was referring to herself AND me in a veggie-laden sermon about how our “superior way” of eating makes us more functional and efficient as human beings. Yeesh. It ain’t a “secret society”, honey. Settle down.
I quickly reminded her that I ONLY eat vegan/organic/uber-healthy part of the time and then other times I just eat whatever I want. In moderation. Cuz I’m not a psycho. I get annoyed when adults tell other adults what to do.
Example: Pam Anderson – the only time I EVER wanna hear you preach about what I eat is if you make your boobies into two puppets named Soy Joy and Fiber Subscriber and they fight back & forth about which one of the pre-packaged lettuce medleys in my grocer’s aisle is more water soluble. I would be like a baby when you dangle keys in front of my face – “YAYYY!” Clap, clap, clap…”Tell me MORE Pammie! Veggie go boom boom in my tum tum! Yum yum!!”
I’m okay with anybody believing WHATEVER they wanna believe but sometimes people just make up quirky little belief systems or traits because they don’t have any substance to their personality. They need to distract other people from that fact......I'm sorry. I know it's cruel, but I had to say it.
Think about it: how many times have you encountered somebody who “magically” turned vegetarian one day and suddenly that’s alllll they wanna talk about….. and then it hits you. THEN you realize: wait...why, a few days ago that was merely “Earl from accounting”. NOW it’s Earl THE VEGETARIAN from accounting. I’m not saying Earl wasn’t born with many special gifts and a winning personality but I certainly believe that sometimes boring people: go vegan/go hippie/go goth/go death metal/go beatnik/go green/go Elvis Costello lookalike (or Lisa Loeb lookalike if you’re a chick)/go super religious/go earthy/go soccer mom/go superfan JUST so they have SOMMMMMMMETHING interesting about them.
When was the last time you met a mid-twenties artsy type in skinny jeans and Buddy Holly glasses that had ANYTHING to offer society except a liberal arts degree and some coupons to Trader Joes? I’m not saying my generation is bad for manufacturing quirks about our personalities via clothes, diet, art, belief system, etc., I’m just saying – be a REAL person underneath it all. Have compassion for your fellow man and don’t act like you’re better than anybody. Cuz yeah, “normal” folk might eat sloppy chicken wings and not have a clue who Billy Corgan is, but WE walk around with vegan-infused flatulence and scarves on in the middle of summertime. Who looks like the real idiot here?
I was just thankful Fishboy’s alien story did NOT include anal probing……. Hm. Aliens. I wanna believe. I HAVE to believe. I remember when I was a kid watching X-Files, no matter how outlandish the extra terrestrial scenario, I was ALWAYS on Mulder’s side. We were talking about alien abduction/invasion this morning on the show after reading Sammy Hagar’s nonsensical ramblings about his own spaceman encounter (surprise surprise: it happened during his drug years).
I, for one, happen to believe that alien life DOES exist (as does Fishboy, who called our show to tell us about his own sighting a few years back. He was actually driving a KRZ vehicle and saw an unidentified flying object in the sky. I totally believe him. Although I ALSO believe that he conveniently left out the middle part of the tale where he went pee-pee in his pants, cried for his Mommy, and cowered like a frightened turtle.)
I have yet to research the reported 1970's sighting in Carbondale, but Rock assures me that it was only an elaborate hoax. We'll see.
Fact is, we as humans are cocky if we think we’re alone in this universe. If not for aliens, who keeps taking all my socks? Who keeps ordering SOUP at McDonalds? Who keeps manufacturing skorts? Who keeps watching televised WNBA games? Who keeps telling men we like it when they suck on our toes? ………too far with that last one? Okay maybe that’s just me.
I’m gonna go grab some lunch and watch a few X-Files reruns. I’m in the mood. Yes, I have them on DVD. Go ahead – call me a dork. I say bring on the alien invasion. Think about it: those green chicks from Star Trek were hot. Chewbacca sings like Shakira. ET has the good candy. And Jabba The Hut makes us all look thin. Embrace the invasion my friends. Our alien overlords couldn’t possibly be more of a threat than our current government.
Nothing like the resounding crunch of a dead cat under your feet as you saunter through your afternoon run. I was jogging Saturday (after, yes, THREE hours of Zumba) and I stepped directly on a mangled cat carcass. Shmunk!!! EW! Didn’t even see it. It was crunchy like a giant junebug with hair and teeth. The village of flies living on its torso indicated that it’d been there for quite some time. I tripped & fell trying NOT to step on it twice. There were three cars at the intersection next to me, watching the whole thing. I felt embarrassed. For a moment. But then I remembered that most people fart in their cars and sing to the radio. So I convinced myself that they were farting, singing off key and just jealous that I had the endurance to run and they didn’t……thaaaaaat’s right, Lissa. You just keep telling yourself that.
I mentioned Zumba because we did a three-hour benefit at my dance studio (and by “my” I mean “my reason for having a tight butt”) SERENITY WELLNESS & DANCE in Luzerne (shameless plug). We danced for three hours straight and raised several hundred dollars for the Kidney Foundation! The group at the dance studio happens to be the most unbelievably uplifting & empowering group I’ve ever been associated with. We bring each other up and we help each other stay fit - AND we raised some money for kidneys at the same time! Lookit us go! Boogie down.
So, after the Saturday morning Zumba-thon and subsequent Dead Cat Relay, I got settled in for a long night of songwriting and playing my beloved piano. Six hours later I was all zen - calm and peaceful, even though I’d been upset earlier by a series of boy-related communicae. I thought I had a potential good male for a split second, but alas he ended up being a cat carcass. A giant junebug with hair and teeth.
I could tell something was wrong with him by Friday afternoon, and by Sunday my suspicions were confirmed. I would like to take this moment to point out: music, exercise, dance, and friends will ALWAYS be there for you. Men not so much. Is it too late to reconsider the whole “lesbian” thing? Or did I miss their training camp? When does it start – May?
Hahaa – welcome Monday! I am SO happy to see you. Lucky for me, worktime is playtime. And Rocky & Sue smell a helluva lot better than a dead cat. I mean that from the bottom of my heart.
Could NOT sleep last night. I twitched & fidgeted like a hooker at a STD clinic. Probably didnât help that I exercised right before bedtime. Why do I do these things? I sabotage myself. Constantly.Â Examples: Â
-I will often work out RIGHT before bed and then lie there staring atÂ my ceiling, humming all the songs I listened to during my workout. This can go on for hours.
-I eat a big breakfast prior to every photo shoot, even when I KNOW I hafta wear a skimpy outfit that shows my stomach.
-I stay out late on Sunday nights when I know I hafta be up at 2am the next day.â¦..
Iâm an effed upÂ individual. I like to create these little challenges in life so I feel like a total tough guy when I DONâT keel over and die from stress. Yay me! I am the victor in life! OR the loser in time management - how ever you wanna look at it.
Iâve had this defect since I was a child. I used to leave all my homework til Sunday night and then frantically fly around like a hummingbird trying to get it all done after I watched The Simpsons.
Sooooâ¦â¦here we go. Time to sabotage myself again!!!!! IâM GONNA GO OUT TONIGHT!!! AAAA! Iâm hosting at Hardware Bar in Wilkes Barre â no cover before 10pm, M80 on stage, and drinkies drinkies drinkies oâplentyâ¦..tee hee - see you there! I am gonna HATE myself come Friday.
We just had authentic Irish BANGERS N' MASH in the studio from Kevin's Bar & Restaurant in Kingston!!!! (Turns out it's just sausage & mashed potatoes).....Here's my first taste.....um, YUM!
It’s never a good thing when a potential landlord points to the attic above the apartment he’s showing you and says the following sentence: “Whatever you do – don’t look in there.” He laughed after he said it, but ‘twas too late – the damage was done. My overactive imagination was already envisioning yanking down the attic door and having seventy or eighty sawed-off human body parts plunk down & hit me in the face………… No thanks. Well, unless there’s off-street parking…..What? NO LISSA! Stop. No.
There were two apartments on my must-see list yesterday. By yesterday afternoon they were on my “must try to avoid having nightmares about this” list.
Let’s see here….so, first landlord was “severed-head-in-the-attic” guy. THEN there was Mister how-about-you-skip-the-apartment-and-just-come-live-with-me-and-my-wife guy. Ugh… Although, in their defense, I did not clearly specify when I called that I was adamantly opposed to severed limbs in the attic OR swinging sex parties with freaky old couples. I must mention this in the future.
I’m supposed to look at two more places this afternoon, but I already walked down the block by the one building and noticed about a dozen stray cats in the alley. Reeked of cat pee. I was hoping for sort of a more picturesque view out my back window too, instead of mangy, lazy-eyed, rabid cats. Not that they aren’t lovely. I might cancel that showing and just go for cocktails instead.
So my quest continues. At least now I know where to turn if I ever need a cat. Or a disembodied head. Always good information to have.
So I’ve decided to rule out the possibility of a male roommate, even though it’d save me tons of money AND my friend who offered to live with me is super nice. I appreciated all the calls, texts, and emails we got during the show this morning – they were actually very helpful. Some of my favorite listener comments:
“Lissa, are you stupid? If he asked you out once, that means he’s attracted to you and always will be. He can’t JUST be your platonic roommate. Men are hardwired to take directions from their genitalia.”
“You don’t wanna live with a boy. Ever. They smell. They splatter pee. They vomit. They fart.”
“I lived with a guy for ten years and it was never a problem. I was amazed at how similar we were! We liked the same fashion, movies, books, everything. Then about a year ago he came outta the closet. My boyfriend said he ALWAYS knew my roommate was gay and otherwise he would’ve totally had a problem with me living with him. Now that I think about it, I don’t think I’d ever live with a guy if he wasn’t gay. Don’t tell my boyfriend. “
“You should move in with your guy friend and just make sure YOU design all the ground rules right away. Men are like puppies. You must train them.”
HAHAHAAAA! Thanks for all the feedback everybody! I feel better now that I’ve discussed it and put the issue to bed. Now……on to the next challenge…….is there a decent, yet affordable one-bedroom apartment for Lil Lissa Lou in NEPA? The search continues…..
Proud to say I survived my first EVER Scranton St.Patty’s Day Parade! I made it through the day and even into the night. Holy shemoly it was IN-SANE!!! I drank green beer. I ate green muffins (?) I danced with green people. I wore green underwear. Video & pics are up on the Rocky, Sue, Lissa morning show page. Suffice to say – I woke up with stickers on my chest & bum AND there was a cardboard donkey in my car. Don't ask. I have no idea.
On to a new week. Apartment search has begun. I welcome any and all suggestions for affordable one-bedroom apartments that are opening in May. I need non-smoking, no pets, no screaming kids, no perverts living downstairs (I like to be the only pervert on premises), and preferably NOT in the rape district. Utilities included? I will do a happy dance.
I’m taking my brother and Rocky & Sue to peruse each of the housing possibilities. Sue knows the right questions to ask. Rocky knows the good neighborhoods in which to go running. And my bro is most likely the one who’s gonna hafta help me haul everything to and fro. So they ALL get a vote.
A friend of mine (who is a GUY by the way) offered to be roommates with me and I’m actually contemplating it. I know it might be weird…..ya know, cuz he’s a dude. But whaddaya think? I’m all about saving money. And I think guys are easier to live with. Hmmm…..we’re gonna talk about it on the show tomorrow at about 7:15am. Call or text with thoughts! I know this is probably a bad idea but right now I can’t think why…..
(....and no, I don't wanna sleep with him. He knows this.)
So tomorrow will be my first EVER ST.Patty’s Day parade in Scranton - SO excited! Can’t wait. I’m entering this weekend with a sense of anxiousness and extreme fear for my liver. Festivities start TONIGHT at Hardware Bar in Wilkes Barre – I’m gonna be hosting from ten to midnight. Drinks aplenty. Hot girls galore. Awesome live music. Killer DJ. What more do you need?
Then tomorrow….Rocky, Sue, Me, the entire KRZ Crew, and the Lakeland High Marching Band will be in the parade! We’ll be marching right behind the band, throwing out beads. So look for us.
We had the boys from Backyard Alehouse in for the Friday Morning Happy Hour this morning (we LOVELOVELOVELOVE them) and they helped us make friends with the NEW GUY here at KRZ!!!! This is the same guy we were talking about Thursday on the air – new to the company, shy, doesn’t wanna socialize with anybody…..we thought he hated us. Well, enter the healing powers of liquor! He doesn’t hate us at all. By the end of the show, New Guy was laughing, singing, dancing (well, “Irish jigging” to be specific) and we got it all on video! Footage is at 985krz.com.
I’ve got about another two-three hours of work, then it’s home to nap before Hardware. Gonna rock my new boots, new bellybutton ring, and new earrings. If I don’t see you tonight, I'll see you tomorrow. Look for Me, Rock, Sue, New Guy, Amanda, Jeff, Kelly, Fishboy, Intern, and several other KRZ crazies – we’ll be participating in some shameful acts of debauchery so no pictures please. Or if you DO get pictures, at least photoshop out the drool. Thanks.
I deleted two people from Facebook today. I posted a status update early this morning about how I used to idolize Alice In Chains when I was a kid and I was so sad to hear that Mike Starr (original bass player) had overdosed yesterday and died.
Immediately these two random jerks piped up and started making comments that I’m sure THEY thought were very funny. They weren’t. These two ripped on Mike for doing drugs (which I agree is bad but is it REALLY necessary to point out something so obvious?), they called him names, they said he was “untalented”……Here’s my stance on Facebook: if you reeeeeeally have an axe to grind, do that stuff on your own page. Don’t prostitute someone else’s comment thread for your own weird agenda.
I warned them once, they continued to make offensive comments, so I deleted them. About two seconds later I got emails from both of them BLASTING me for deleting them - one even called me a “nobody DJ” who can’t take a joke and said that if I can’t stand criticism I should get out of the business.
Here’s what I wrote back:
I CAN take criticism. You weren’t criticizing me, you were making fun of a guy who died yesterday. Very different. If YOU have viewpoints of your own, say them on your own page. I will freely admit that I get a little over the top sometimes with my status updates and off-color jokes, but I’m allowed to be irreverent here – it's my area. Everyone here is a friend or fan of mine. They know my humor. That does NOT make it okay for you to come here and be a preachy poopstain. If anybody's a preachy poopstain here, it's me.
For instance, if I go on my Facebook page and proclaim that my Aunt Karlene is a white trash foul-mouthed trucker skank, she’d see that and laugh her scabs off! She’d respond with “yeah, well you’re a Pat Benatar wannabe with a spray tan and a square forehead”. We’d both crack up! But if YOU said those things…….you’d look like a weird lonely jerk with a bad attitude. And you might hurt Aunt Karlene’s feelings. I can’t have that. You see what I'm saying?
I’m sure you noticed that I have over 4,000 friends and thought this was the perfect opportunity to showcase your one-man comedy revue, but I’m not here to be your platform. Maybe if you were so hilarious, you wouldn’t hafta creep a “nobody DJ’s” Facebook page to peddle your comedy in the first place. Maybe this is why I have 4,000 friends and you have 17.
(Well actually…..he’s got 18 now. Aunt Karlene really did think he was funny. Dammit.)
Are you part muppet? Is Eugene Levy your dad? Why do you have eyebrows that come down over your eyes? I can’t imagine you’re able to see whilst you drive. Do you part them like curtains? I pondered these things as I was staring at my stoplight buddy this morning. Stoplight buddy is the dude in the car next to you. Yeah, you pretend not to look, they pretend not to look, but suddenly your eyes meet and it gets weird for a second. You look away. Or if you’re feeling sick (like me) you pretend you’re a homicidal maniac and you LOCK ON. Stare them down - as soon as they see you looking, you INTENSIFY your gaze and refuse to blink. It’s very “children of the corn”. Freaks people out.
Anyhoooooo, spotlight buddy had offensively deciduous eyebrows. This bothered me. Then I stopped at the post office and THAT guy had halitosis so pungent it melted my mascara. Proceed to grocery store. Grocery store lady had mile-long fingernails. Ick. There were villages of fungi living underneath them. Seriously. I could see them constructing tiny little fungi theme parks. They put up signs advertising “Happy Slappy Fungus Land! Something for the fun-guy in all of us!” - GET IT? Get it?!……oh sorry. Guess you got it - it just wasn’t funny.
These random encounters make me wonder if EVERYBODY has something about them that annoys the hell outta other people. Whether it’s skanky fingernails, eyebrows, or halitosis (that means bad breath for all you mouth breathers - ha)…..it SOMETHING.
Sooooooooooo, I know I’m gonna regret this, but..........what’s mine?
What’s my glaring, annoying Lissa-ism? I’m talking the one big fault that clearly annoys everyone around me and must be stopped. And don’t gimme that ONE little thing that annoys just you (like the way I say “either”:….I say “EYE-ther”…..ugh, I know. That annoys me too. I’m trying to stop, really.) But I mean something that annoys MOST people.
Go ahead..……Tell me what it is and I’ll try to stop. Or if it’s a hygiene issue, I’ll try to start. Whatever it is - I wanna know!
Okay..............(inhale deeply)…..I already regret this blog post.
Both parents just called my cell FREAKING OUT cuz they were listening online this morning & heard me say that I got in an accident. If only they knew how miniscule it really was..... In Michigan we would've called it “merely a little shove". In Pennsylvania apparently we call it “one hour late for work”.
Picture this: it’s 3:30am. I pulled out of my driveway and got stuck in the snow/ice/mush right in the middle of my street. My car literally sunk into the snow – whomp! I put my hazards on. I went in to get my shovel. Downstairs neighbor guy had taken it. (It’s actually a “community shovel” so he wasn’t totally outta line to take it but it would’ve been great had he returned it to its proper resting place by the door so the remainder of the “community” – aka ME – could use it).
But shovel or no shovel, I was determined to get out. I rocked the car back & forth - nuthin’. I dug out around my tires with my little gloved hands – nuthin’. I prayed (seriously) – nuthin’.
Juuuuuuust about that time, some dude in a fancy shmancy SUV comes careening down the hill toward me. He tried to stop in time but couldn’t. FWAP! He hits my sitting duck Neon. Luckily my car is comprised of mainly Fisher Price plastic so he bounced right off. We exchanged pleasantries, he told me it was very dangerous to leave a car stuck in the middle of the street (no sh!t Copernicus - thanks) and he drove away.
I then had to take the shameful steps of going back inside and calling The Bossman. He was surprisingly jovial for 4am. He offered to come pick me up with his four-wheel drive bossmobile (thank GOD) and he even calmed me down a smidge because I was starting go a tad Margot Kidder. Not good. When he arrived he whipped out a tow strap and (cue the “Emerald City” music from Wizard of Oz) a SHOVEL!!!!!! Aaaahhhhhhhh!!! Yes!
So we got my horseless carriage back into the driveway and he brought me to the station. I’m happy to report that I got ON the air in time (woot) and only had to wait til 8:45 for my socks to dry out. Rusty got stuck too. He actually wasn’t wearing a jacket at the time AND had to walk a mile for a phone, so….ya know…..could’ve been worse.
As of right now, we’re all here safe & sound. We’re nestled in our KRZ cubbies sipping hot chocolate and thanking God we didn’t die this morning. Or, if you’re Lissa, you’re sipping hot chocolate (and Baileys) and thanking God that Rocky & Sue are only off til Wednesday!
People who say things they don’t mean are obviously liars. Duh. We all know this. But people who AVOID saying stuff that NEEDS to be said are liars too. Maybe a worse kind of liar. Because they have an agenda and they’re trying to make themselves more powerful by manipulating other people. I don't like this…..BEWARE the elusive “say nothing” liar!
I have a dude calling me maaaaaaaaybe once every couple weeks and he likes to pretend I’m his girlfriend. Then the NEXT phone call he pretends we’re barely acquaintances. Then the NEXT phone call he says we should take a vacation together. Huh? I'm confused. We went out three times. It was decent fun but nothing special. End of transaction. Please stop calling me. Now he is officially annoying the crap outta me and it’s just plain weird. I don’t know what he’s trying to accomplish! But I can tell you this: I’m so freaking fed up with his flakiness I don’t care to find out. It's dishonest! There's something he wants to say and he's just not saying it. So I finally texted him "I think we're done here." Not sure if that's rude or not.
Here’s the bottom line - people who are honest are ALWAYS forthright with you because they have nothing to hide. Example: call your mom right now. Ask what she thinks of the person you’re dating (you kinda already know, don't you?). She’ll try to say it nicely but she WILL tell you the truth. It may be awkward for a moment but that’s what honesty is: momentary unpleasantness for the greater good of the relationship. IF you care about the other person’s feelings, that is.
"Say nothing” liars are soooooooo shady cuz they don’t even have the guts to VERBALIZE their lies. At least pathological liars entertain us with a few good yarns in the process of deceit. I like that. Even moreso if they include puppies and magic genies. I sit back and enjoy a sandwich while they tell their stories – makes it feel like dinner theater.
But watch out for the “say-nothing” liars, my friends - they are the real enemy. They’re so covert. And they‘re usually highly intelligent which only makes it worse. They DO have an agenda and they do NOT care about your feelings.
Ladies, if YOU are one of these “say nothing” liars, you’re a manipulative bitch. And guys, if YOU are a “say-nothing” liar, we automatically assume you have a small pee-pee. Cuz I mean, c’mon…..you’re not even man enough to lie! Ha! Amateur.
My Lord in heaven. I just passed the same person in the hall for the fourth time today. I have nothing new to say. Oh the awkwardness. Oh the bitter, bitter discomfort. It’s like when someone has an ugly baby and you’re actually pressing your lips together trying not to say it. I wish there was some kind of societal understanding that after the second time you see the same person in the hallway at work (or elevator/breakroom/whatever) you need NEVER speak again. Truce time. DON'T do what I just did: don’t point and go “Hey! You again!” like an idiot. I wanted to smack my own mouth. (This is the day Lissa lost her self-respect. I think I left it somewhere by conference room B).
We both acted like it was a “funny coincidence” that we saw each other yet again in the SAME hallway…..but it’s not a coincidence. We work in the same gawldang office. We’re GONNA see each other. Why did we both put our eyebrows up like “Hey! You! Wow!”….who f#%king cares?
I could’ve whipped out the ever popular “Why are you following me?! Harharharharhaaaaaaar!!! ….” Groan. Nobody finds that funny. Thank God I didn’t resort to THAT verbal life preserver. I mean, I love the other humans but after a while we all run outta things to say. It’s okay.
I’m half tempted to gradually start removing articles of clothing, one for each time I traverse the halls at KRZ. Then slowwwwly, by about 3pm I’ll see this dude again and he’ll be like “Hey - weren’t you wearing TWO shoes this morning?”.......”uhhh, nope”………..Then by 4:30 it’s like “Lissa! Where’s your shirt?!”
I’ll just shrug and go “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Exit stage left. In my undies. It’ll be a cold ride home but for cripes sakes at least we’ll have something to talk about then. And I’ll get more done cuz I’ll be frightfully aerodynamic by 5pm.
This Friday will mark two weeks that Herb has been in my life. Herb is awesome - reliable, solid as a rock, he sticks by the people he loves. Herb is a wad of gum. Herb resides in our production studio. He is affixed to the countertop, right next to the phone and the mixing board that we all use. He's been there since February 18 soÂ I found it fitting to name him.....This may be the longest relationship I haveÂ all year......
Apparently one of my oh-so-thoughtful co-workers found the task of gum chewing to be far too exhausting, and simply couldnât bear to chomp another bite. So they removed their minty mouth treat and instead of tossing him in the garbage (which is, mind you, two feet away) they pressed him onto the counter by the phone. I was actually reeeeeaching for the phone when I discovered Herb â I mistakenly stuck my hand in him! Guh! So instead of making a seemingly pleasant phone call to one Mr. Joe Snedeker, I yanked my hand away, slathered onÂ the sanitizer, and threw up in my mouth just a wee tablespoon. Herb is the most repulsive thing Iâve ever been fascinated with. Besides deep fried ice cream.
I would like to take this opportunity to ask ALLLLLLL my co-workers (and I mean this in the nicest way) âWHICH ONE OF YOU IS F#@KING DISGUSTING ENOUGH TO WHIP OUT YOUR SKANKY ASS GUM AND JUST SET IT ON A COUNTERTOP?!?!?! YOU SHOULD BE PUNCHED IN THE TRACHEA!â
I mean come ON â even for radio ilkâ¦.datâs nasty. This is Level Orange nastiness (also referred to as the âCourtney Love Levelâ. I would like the perpetrator to come forward and claim their crime! Even though the rest of us are almost as bad for letting it sit there untouched for two weeksâ¦â¦..Iâm still holding out the small hope that Skanky McSkankerson will come back to USE the production studio and be aghast to see what they left behind. They should feel ashamed and embarrassed to the point that not ONLY do they throw Herb away (thus giving him a proper burial) but feel SO apologetic toward the rest of us that they immediately run out to the store for donuts and mini-muffins.
Thatâs all I want: an admission of guilt, disposal of the gum, and apology donuts for all. We deserve it. HERB deserves it. Heâs been through so much. Why just today, Sue stuck a screw in him and yelled âScrew you Herb!!!!ââ¦..just cuz weâre sick of looking at him.
Just went to Walmart. I saw somebody’s shopping list on the ground as I entered the store. Awwwww, I thought, they’re forgetting key purchases even as we speak! Poor bastard. Couldn’t see the whole list but check out these first few items:
Wow! What an interesting assortment of merchandise! How is it that they need ALL these things at once? Do they plan on using them in conjunction with one another? I pictured Joe List-Dropper standing on his freshly swiffered kitchen floor constructing rubber band slingshots, and then taking celery stalks and shoving them inside condoms so he can fling them at his bright blue painted walls…..
If that’s true – sounds like fun! I must meet this man. Or woman. At the very least, we could possibly date. They’re clean, they eat vegetables, and they practice safe sex. Sounds like a winner to me. But sadly I was in a hurry so I didn’t pick up the list and seek out its rightful owner. Instead I immediately got to work on my OWN list:
nail polish remover
The whole time I’m in the store I’m thinking: DON’T drop this list on the way out the door! People will assume I’m a grape-stomping fume sniffer with odor issues and overly lubricated extremities. Eh……… I’ve been called worse.
My family can EAT! And talk. And laugh. And take pictures. Thatâs pretty much all we did this weekend. My parents were visiting from Michigan so we all convened at my big broâs house in upstate New York â I am so lucky to have a fun family â these people ROCK! Weâre blessed even moreso now that we have Ben The Wonderbaby, Ben Kenobi, Ben Jamminâ, Bentacular , Benny & The Jetsâ¦..he has many nicknames! I did, however, manage to get one nickname vetoed. My bro (Jason, his dad) heard me singing to him calling him âCaptain Cutie-Pantsâ. I then took the liberty of showcasing the âCaptain Cutie-Pants Danceâ, which Ben & I painstakingly perfected last weekend during my babysitting stint. It makes him laugh! Itâs adorable! Jason was not amusedâ¦â¦âLissâ my brother says flatly âMy son is NOT Captain Cutie Pants. I may hafta veto this one.â Ah, crapâ¦â¦I said okay. I warned him that Ben will NEVER make it on Broadway or anywhereÂ else in showbiz if he does not have a snappy stage moniker. Jason seemed fine with this. Elated even. Charlatan.
Andy & Devon had stopped at an Italian bakery before they arrived and picked up a huuuuuge box of homemade pastries, which would lead to my first time EVER trying Napoleon â ummmm, YUM! I must admit I likeÂ those dessertsÂ more than I like most people. We also surprised my Mommy with a birthday cake followed by a serenade (her bday was last Thursday). She cried. Mission accomplished.
My folks only make it outÂ to visitÂ about twice a year so itâs very important to me to milk every second of together time. Mom & I stayed up til the wee hours of the morn talking about girlie stuff - boys, work, fashion, friends, boys, my apartment search, zumba, boys, etcâ¦.There were several other miscellaneous topics thrown in there as well - I think we even discussed photosynthesis at one point.
Then, before you know it, the weekend was done. Carload by carload, we all dispersed. In addition to tears and several Tupperware containers full of leftovers I drove away with feelings of happiness and nagging irony: itâs weird how when you become an adult, you feel like you never get to hang out with your parents and siblings enough. But when I think back to high school I basically had the personality of mopwaterÂ and there wouldâve been no WAY Iâd actually CHOOSE to hang out with these people (especially if we were just sitting around, watching TV, eating, drinking, and talking). But nowadays thereâs nothing Iâd rather do. Glad I got to see them. Glad it was such an awesome weekend. Iâm totally sleep deprived and waaaaay behind on laundry but it was worth it. My soul is re energized and my phone is overflowing with pics. Life is good.
To EVERYONE who came up to me this week and said "....don't be a Christina Aguilera and forget the words - har har har har har harrrrrrrrrrr!!!!"
Ummmmm.....................SUCK IT! Hahaha! Seriously, I had a great time doing the anthem - THANKS Mohegan Sun Arena for asking me and THANKS Globetrotters for not making me stay and play point guard.
UPDATE on the whole Jen/Chad situation: he is NOT mad at her. He is mad at me. (I’m fine with that, by the way). We got a few calls & emails wondering if he was retributional with her because of our radio convo, but even before we had the on-air discussion, Jen assured me that whatever the fallout was – he wouldn’t hurt her. She asked me to talk about it because she thought KRZ listeners could be of some assistance. I think she just wanted a reaffirmation of what she was already thinking.
I’m happy to say: she found you all VERY helpful! Team KRZ was overwhelmingly on her side. She read all the emails & texts that you guys sent and she’s currently doing GREAT – if anything, this buoyed her spirits. Chad is out of town for the next week so Jen will be alone with her daughter & sister. She says she has some “thinking to do”. She may decide to break up with him; she may not. But it’s her decision. I told her I’m behind her a hundred percent WHATEVER she decides to do.
That is the conclusion, as far as WE are concerned - we’re done with it now. I won’t bring it up again on the radio unless it’s to update everybody on how she’s doing. But THANKS again for alllllllllllll your feedback! I let her read your messages and texts and she was actually moved to tears by your thoughtfulness and sincerity. You’ve helped her. Thank you.
Now, on to weekend festivities: who’s out tonight? I’m singing the national anthem at the Globetrotters game in WB, then hosting at Hardware. If you happen to be at either place, please come up & say HI! Bottoms up ya’ll. Try not to be a Chadhole this weekend!
Mark this on your calendar kids: February 24, 2011 – the first day Lissa EVER got into a heated argument with a caller on KRZ. Hahahaa - GREAT way to start the day!
Here’s what happened: we were talking about my friend Jen (with her permission) because her relationship is causing her tremendous stress. She’s been with the same guy (Chad) for nine years now. They have a two year old daughter together. Chad has always made negative comments about Jen’s looks and they’ve progressively gotten more insulting over the years. She got a boob job for him a few years ago and she recently got a nose job for him too. He says she’s STILL not pretty enough!
I could tell the last time Jen & I spoke that she was entertaining the notion of leaving him, mainly because of the negative effect this type of “mommy/daddy” dialogue will have on her daughter’s self esteem. I asked her if we could discuss it on the show to see if our listeners could help her out. Boy, did they EVER! We got the most amazing response – text msgs, Facebook posts, emails, our phones blew up…..
THEN, halfway through the segment I got a text from Jen:
“Liss – Chad is pissed! He’s listening to u talk about him on ur show. He says I put u up it. I said no. So now he’s mad at YOU and will probably yell next time he sees u. Just warning.”
So I text back:
“If he’s so pissed, have him call the show! I’m happy to talk to him.”
And within five minutes – guess who was on the phone! Hahahaa – here’s the audio of me getting into it with Chad! I still get mad just listening to this. We’ll have quite an update on tomorrow’s show - VERY interesting things happening with this whoooooole situation!
So yesterday we received dozens of thank you cards from adorable little school children and today I received the opposite of that - the REVERSE thank you! Someone actually posted on my facebook page that they were pissed they weren't caller nine to win concert tickets (those of you who are friends with me on FB already know this). Oh, well excuuuuuuuse me sir – in the flurry of giving away all this free stuff we sometimes forget that EVERY person EVERYWHERE who’s EVER called our show deserves EVERY prize we’ve EVER offered. How thoughtless of me.
I love when people say things like: “I listen to you guys every day! And what the hell did it get me?! Nuthin’!” Oh. Okay. Lemme write this down – so in addition to the multiple hours of free music and entertaining programming (hey it’s entertaining MOST of the time – we already apologized for “slushee-in-the-face day”) we’re supposed to give you unlimited access to free goods and services of your choosing? I did not know this. And what do you ever give US? If anybody owes anybody, I think you have it backwards. Hahaaa!
I would like YOU to perform a skit for OUR entertainment. You have thirty seconds. It must be both comical and compelling AND FCC-friendly AND when it’s done I want you to give me tickets to Axl Rose’s private birthday party (and not the one at Bumblefoot’s house with the Cinderella theme and the funfetti cake – I mean the REAL one). I’ll even try to be “caller #9” like an actual radio listener. And you can answer the phone like “Billy-Bob FM! Nothin’ but Billy-Bob allllll the time! A veritable BLOB of Billy-Bob!” Mind you, I’m gonna subject you to five minutes of THIS when you DO answer the phone: …………..”What? Huh? I got through?......It’s me?........I’m on da air?!......Right now?!.....I’m on da air RIGHT NOW?! Omigod……..You guys, SHUT UP, I’m on the air!........Nicholas – SHUT UP!.......Honey – make Nicholas shut up! I’m on KRZ!.........Am I caller number nine?!...........No way!......What did I win? .......Huh?..............Tickets?........To what?......Do I hafta DO anything?.....Can I meet Rihanna?.......Nicholas shut UP!!...” Haaahahahaa – then I’ll forget to pick up the prize and call you a week later to complain that you don’t play enough Lady Gaga.
Oh c’mon – I jest! I love this! Stuff like that is an endless potpourri of hilarity! Keep calling and making me laugh – gets me through the day! But seriously, if you don’t win just keep trying. We don’t pick who wins and who doesn’t. It’s random. And we never seem to run out of cool stuff to give away so you WILL get something eventually. In a perfect world we would ONLY give prizes to the most deserving listeners (cuz when people win cool stuff like concert tickets and they don’t even know who the freakin’ band IS, that drives me bonkers. And it’s so rude to their real fans) but unfortunately we can’t rig our giveaways.
If we could, I’d have those Axl Rose birthday bash tickets. And Rocky would have box seats to the Cleveland Browns. And Sue would have VIP access to Adam Lambert’s tour bus. But this is not a perfect world. Jim Belushi still has a TV show. Sadness abounds. All we can do is band together, hold our heads high, and scream “NICHOLAS SHUT UP – I’M ON DA AIR!”
The 6th graders at Bear Creek Charter School took the time to write us personal thank-yous for bringing a Harlem Globetrotter to their class last week. How sweet! Thanks kids! Some of my favorite lines:
Thank you for everything you did. I loved it! Thanks for teaching us about health & sports. â Jonah
Thank you for teaching us about teamwork and showing us all those cool moves! âTyler
Thanks for coming to our school! We had a great time and learned a lot too! âAlexis
It was fun watching my friends passing to each other and thanks for teaching me how to shoot better âCassidy
Thank you for a wonderful time! We learned about staying fit and smart and maintaining responsibility âDS
I think the Globetrotters should play in the NBA âAustin (FYI - I agree, Austin!)
Hopefully weâll see youÂ ALL at the game Friday â Mohegan Sun Arena, tickets still available (at the box officeÂ or through Ticketmaster). Rocky & I will be there. In fact, Iâm singing the anthem so if you look down mid-court right before the game and see someÂ microphone-wielding long haired rocker chick with a confused look on her face â datâs ME! Hahaaaa - wave!
I know that KRZ is very fond of branding every aspect of our lives â itâs a very shrewd business move actually - but this is outta hand! Look what they did to my nephew! AAHAHAHAA!! (Iâm sorry - I just couldnât resist). Careful Savannah (Kelly Kâs little one)â¦..they said YOUâRE NEXTâ¦..hahaaa
Â Okay, not to break my arm patting myself on the back or anything, but Benjamin was a breeeeeeeze!! We were like peas in a pod! My bro & his wife were on their date for about four/five hours, and within that time, I managed to make him laugh, I made him âtalkâ (jibberishâ¦.but still), fed him three bottles, and rectified what could only be described as Poop-a-Palooza 2011. Oh, AND I found out that he likes The Black Eyed Peas. He does NOT, however,Â like Nicki Minaj. Aerosmith made him fartâ¦â¦.Iâm not sure if thatâs a âlikeâ or âdislikeâ. Iâll get back to you.
I tend to talk to babies like I talk to adults. NO baby talk. Some say thatâs not too cute, but I say SCREW YOU â I DONâT PANDER DAMMIT! By the end of the night, Ben and I had discussed my new running shoes, the new computer system at work, my upcoming apartment search, and Aunt Lissaâs basic synopsis of âBlack Swanââ¦.heâs a helluva listener that kid! And he was very helpful in regards to the new computer system at KRZ - apparently heâs got extensive prior experience configuring Audio Wave Files - who knew?
Anyway, I donât mean to get all Lifetime Channel and disgustingly uterine here, but what is it about a kidâs laughter that totally makes you feel like youâre just gonna explode from happiness? I have literally NEVER felt such satisfaction in all my years doing radio, music, comedy, etc, as I did when I made that kid laughâ¦â¦I have SUCH good material! And it all involves airplane soundsâ¦..I had no idea. According to Ben that's comedy gold!
The photos below pretty much capture the essence of my weekend. I expect you to go âawwwwwâ when you look at each of these. If you donât, well then,Â may you rot in hell!!!â¦â¦..HAAHAHAA - just kidding, Ben told me to say thatâ¦â¦.kidâs got aÂ TWISTED sense of humor.
All right. It’s go time. My first experience babysitting little 4-month-old Benjamin will be tomorrow afternoon. Six-ish. I’m nervous. BETTER NOT SCREW THIS UP! My nephew is very important to me! We were talking about him on the radio this morning and listeners had me cracking up with their stories (well, everybody except the guy who left his girlfriend’s baby alone in a bathtub full of water while he “ran out to the car”….um – hello, SCARY! Thankfully the kid was fine.)
I’m leaving early tomorrow afternoon. It’s a three-hour drive. I got an oil change (cuz I figured the baby will notice). I got new earrings (cuz I figured the baby will notice). I got my hair trimmed (babies HATE split ends). And I put both “Use Your Illusion One” AND “Use Your Illusion Two” in my car juuuuust in case Ben wants to hear BOTH “Get In The Ring” and “Back Off Bitch”……. Of course I’m kidding. I did none of those things. Babies don’t give a crap. They don’t give a crap what you look like or what you listen to on the radio (although they DO poop less if you listen to KRZ…..TEST IT - I dare you!). Babies just want you to love them and keep everything properly maintained around all their orifices. That I can do.
I’m sitting here at work, shlogging along on three-hours sleep, punchy as hell, crabbier than I probably care to admit……I can’t wait to see this baby. He is literally joy wrapped in footie pajamas. I’ll return Sunday afternoon with happiness in my heart and pictures on my phone. Then I’ll probably try to track down a certain cute man-candy for dinner and a late night movie viewing at the Casa De Liss…..cuz I am ALSO joy wrapped in footie pajamas.
My Grandpa left the house! I know this might not seem like a big deal but he hasn’t left the house in months since he got sick. He’s very John Wayne-ish. Big, tough, burly guy. Used to play football for University of Michigan. He got sick a few months ago and hasn’t left the house since October. So my Dad tells me “Yeah, Granddad left the house yesterday - went to the doctor, took Grandma out to lunch, went all over town. Not like he’s gonna be on “Dancing With The Stars” anytime soon but still, pretty cool!”
Pretty cool indeed Dad!!! Lordy knows I needed some good news right about now! In case you haven’t listened to KRZ all week (loser), lemme just fill you in: we’re integrating a new computer system here at the station and the switchover has been........ahem.....innnnnnnteresting to say the least. I’m about ready to put my fist through a wall. (And by “wall” of course I mean “wall of dried pasta”…….hey, a REAL wall would hurt.)
I feel like now I have THREE reasons to cheer up today: first, we’re going to Bear Creek Charter School this afternoon with the Harlem Globetrotters to hang out with a bunch of cool 6th graders – that’ll be FUN! Second, Grandpa was out tap-dancing in the snowy Michigan tundra – um, AWESOME! And Britney’s new video for “Hold It Against Me” premieres at 9:56pm tonight right before Jersey Shore on MTV – ahh YESSSSSSS!
Oh! And I get to see my nephew this weekend – WOO HOOOOOOO! So there you go. Can’t let computer glitches get me down. I have more important things to worry about. Like how to retrieve all my internet porn when I so craftily labeled it “morning show audio” on the company hard drive……
Cigarette people always know exactly where their pack is located behind the counter at the gas station. They say the brand name (or name(s), if they happen to be purchasing for their girlfriend “Lyrlene”) and God forbid the little 17 year-old trainee kid behind the counter takes longer than a millisecond to locate the smoky treats. “THIRD FROM LEFT!! ….OVER……OVER…..OVVVVVER….There! Gimme gimme gimme!” The smoker breed is not known for their patience. (Or their satisfactory incisor condition, but that’s a different story.)
I was in the gas station about five minutes ago behind Yosemite Sam’s illegitimate daughter. She had a voice like gravel, hair like Opie, and a mustache that was clearly visible from the Cheetoh aisle. Dressed in her finest sweats, she had two little kids in tow. (Why do these people always have kids?)….She blew a gasket. Her brand was Marlboro Menthol something-or-other and the dude behind the counter started to zig left when he should’ve zagged right (Yeah – a Zig-Zag reference. Why? I’m not sure.)
Lady: “You’re looking right at them!....NO!.....Over!!”
Gas Station Guy: “Ummmm……” (continues to scan back & forth)
Lady: “JESUS! I only have an hour for lunch!”
Lady’s daughter: “Momma…..”
The look on the little girl’s face when she looked up and said “Momma” was priceless. She wasn’t being inquisitive. Or impatient. She was scolding. That’s right, a grown (seemingly mature) woman was being pseudo-scolded by her ten year old child. I shook my head. Poor kid. Can’t be fun to be embarrassed by your mother. (I wouldn’t know - my mother is neither rude NOR does she have a five o’clock shadow). But whether the little one was ashamed of her Mom’s classless behavior or Madre’s zombie-like addiction to ye old emphysema cinna-sticks…..either way…..this is a good sign. This gives me hope for the future.
The gas station guy eventually located her ciga-soothers and Wendy White Trash turned on her heels to leave. When she turned, she was facing me cuz I was right behind her in line. Here’s me: “Jeez lady, give the kid a break. Where’s the fire, huh? Um, I mean….besides in your face.” She did not laugh. That’s okay. It wasn’t really a joke.
So my folks are coming to stay with my big brother in two weeks – we’re all gonna get together up there (“up there” being Saratoga Springs New York). I can’t wait!! I love hanging out with my family! This is the same brother (Jason) who has a gorgeous baby boy (my nephew Ben) with his wife Sara. I’m going up to babysit little Ben Kenobi Saturday night so I hope he’s ready for some auntie hugs!
Any pointers? I already know how to bottle feed, I know how to change diapers, I know how to put “mother-humper” and “fudge” in place of REAL curse words…….. What else do I need to know? Seriously – what else? I don’t wanna screw this up! I wanna ensure that I’m the go-to person whenever they need a sitter. Cuz then I can start the slow and subtle process of giving him piano lessons and putting him in Def Leppard t-shirts. Isn’t that what we all do when we have a moment alone with our wee little kin folk? We try to infiltrate their minds so they start to act and think like us. (I would like to take THIS moment to request of Ben’s parents that they NOT read my blog from yesterday…..or if you DO, just know that I WON’T teach him snarky little comments like that. I stop short of total, all-encompassing mind control cuz the world does NOT need another Lissa.)
But I can at least teach him the important things:
Dark chocolate is always better than milk.
Converse sneaks are always in.
Red Wing hockey is always better than anything else on TV.
Grandma’s pecan pie is probably what heaven is like.
Our family will always choose tiny taverns as opposed to loud clubs.
Carlos Mencia is the devil.
Coldplay kills puppies.
Original bands are always better than cover bands.
“Lyricist” is just a fancy word for a poet with cool friends.
Your Mom will always know when you’re lying. Your Dad will always know if you’ve adjusted the thermostat.
Don’t half-ass anything. Do or do not….there is no try. (That’s from Yoda. Fitting, I figured, since my nickname for him is Ben Kenobi.)
And finally – never ever ever ever EVER lean down by the udder when Uncle Dave is milking cows cuz he WILL spray you in the face with milk. Doesn’t matter how old you are. And then he’ll laugh hysterically and periodically remind you throughout the day about “that time he sprayed you in the face with milk”…..as if you forgot.
My Grammy night grievances. In no particular order......
Katy Perry and Usher – will you EVER EVER EVER (insert a few hundred more "EVERS" here) learn how to sing live or should we all just give up on that? For cripes sakes – find the F%#&ING note!!! Ask Beebs or Gaga to help you out. And Usher, congrats! You were eclipsed by the talent of two pre-pubescent teen newbies. You're like John Stamos whenever the Olsen twins entered a scene on Full House - you went from "hey, that guy’s kinda cool!” to "hey, why do we even pay that guy?"
Speaking of Gaga – we’re all drawing parallels between "Born This Way" and Madonna's "Express Yourself" aren’t we? Just admit it. I love her too, but let’s be real my fellow Monsters. They’re the exact same song.
“Lady Antebellum”. Your band name has the same exact number of syllables as "Lissa take a pee time" – NOT a coincidence. I can’t stand them. I am sicker of this group than I am of crocs footwear on inbreeders. Go ahead - give ‘em three or four awards they didn’t deserve. That just made it worse! I DO need you now, Lady Antebubblegum….I need you to NOT put out another album for six or seven years. Thanks.
MUSE! Second best performance of the night in my opinion. Love them! Matt’s vocals are stronger than his sperm count….unless you ask Kate Hudson. (She would probably compare his swimmers to those unrelenting ninja dancers that were hopping all over center stage during “Uprising” – very superfluous and a VERY annoying.)
Norah Jones, Keith Urban, and John Mayer did the Dolly Parton classic “Jolene” and it was breathtaking! This trio was so sweet and the song so hypnotic not even John Mayer's gonorrhea could cheapen its majesty.
Christina! Poor, poor, poor little Christina....stumbling and falling as she finished up the Aretha tribute. I was blogging pre-show about her sweet redemption after the super bowl debacle.....welllll, shhhhhoooot. Better luck next time Max o' mom!! (That is NOT a crack about her weight - she actually IS Max's mom.....give that one a minute).
Kay, Kim Kardashian – what in the blue blazes were YOU doing at the Grammys? (She was at the f$#king SAG Awards too - how does she keep getting invited to these things?) Is she working on projects that none of us know about? I mean....no, right? She still does NOTHING, right? I could’ve screamed when they panned the crowd during Mick Jagger's performance and she actually looked BORED! ARGGH! Somebody stop me from throwing a bottle of Quicktrim at my TV.....
The annual retrospective of "people we lost this year" – why wasn’t Gary Moore from Thin Lizzy in that segment? Or was he, and I just missed him? He passed from a heart attack on Feb 6th. I hope I'm not speaking outta turn here – if it’s only supposed to include people from 2010 maybe he’ll be in the next one. That's probably the case. I hope so.
Hey CONGRATS to Barbra Streisand for finding a way to look AND sound like an infected upside-down vagina! Seriously, what was UP with that dress? I’ve always hated her voice too because it's very “old-lady-in-the-back-row-of-church” SHRILL. I find her immensely annoying and I don't get why everybody thinks she's so freaking fantastic (much like how YOU, the reader, probably feel about ME right now).
Rihanna & Drake – soooooo sexy together! Drake is officially the hottest Canadian since Mike Reno donned that headband and worked it for the weekend. Er, wait, that wasn't sexy at all.....
Mark Anthony and J.Lo – your presentation together was supposed to make you look "fake annoyed" with each other. It was supposed to be cute, right? Guess what…….. it only came across as REAL annoyed with each other. Thank you for unwittingly epitomizing with perfect accuracy how America feels about BOTH of you.
DRE!!!!!!! With Em and RiRi - Best! Performance! All! Night! That was hip-hop history in the making, people!!!! We’ll be watching that footage on highlight reels for decades to come. Deservedly so. It only added to my amusement that the tech squad missed an F-bomb they were supposed to bleep - didja catch that? Haaaa…… I was bursting with unquenchable excitement even moreso than the veins in Eminem’s forehead.
And last but not least - who’d a thunk we’d get a WHITNEY HOUSTON shout out?!?!?! AAAHAHAHAHA!!! Gaga, you made me crack a smile (even though crack is whack). When all is said & done, I'd say this year's broadcast totally kicked ass. One of the better Grammy years for sure. Just for the fun of it however, let's keep comparing Streisand to an "infected upside-down vagina" for the rest of 2011, okay? Good deal. Rock on.
Things I discovered this weekend: First - I’m able to navigate Long Island by myself with minimal confusion. Second - neighbors always hate me, even if they're other peoples' neighbors. Third - Sue laid the smack down on my behalf when some dude tried to name drop about me. And finally – I have a secret Valentine in NEPA who talks like Stuart Smalley and may or may not be a homicidal glue sniffer.
First things first: after two solid nights of debauchery with Hinder and my crew at the Hardware Bar I spent Saturday & Sunday on Long Island with somebody I adore and rarely get to see. (Why is it that I get to see people I hate every day but the people I enjoy are sometimes twice/three times a month tops? Ha! Think about that. Get back to me.) I managed to put the "F.U." in FUN and in the process offended three or four of my compadre's neighbors with my vocal acrobatics. Ya know what we call that in rock n' roll happy land, kids? Collateral damage. I don't even feel bad. BTW, this was my first time EVER driving on Long Island and I’m proud to say - made that Cross Island Parkway my bitch! All credit should go to “Linda”, the smug British broad living inside my TomTom, but still…..
I was texting back & forth with Sue on my way home and she almost had me peeing my pants! I love the way Sue tells stories because even via text you can TOTALLY picture her every move and you can tell how fired up she is by the flurry of exclamation points and colorful metaphors. Basic synopsis: she was at a KRZ function (I’m not gonna say where) and some dude came up to her, asking where I was. He started being extremely pushy and he was implying that he and I were…ahem…”significant acquaintances”. Well, Sue immediately knew he was lying (hey, we don’t call her the “Human B.S. Detector” for nuthin’) and I kid you not, she responds to the guy: “Yeah, Lissa would NOT go out with you.” AAAHAHAHAHA!! I love it! Always good to know your girl’s got your back, right? :D
So just as I was pulling in my driveway, getting ready to settle in for my Grammy night ritual, I noticed a heart-shaped box crammed in my mailbox. It’s a box of candy. It’s got a white sticker on the front that says simply “You’re Special”……uh…..
WHY, dear God?! WHY?! WHY does weird stuff like this only happen to ME?! I have NO idea who this is from (I even forgot that Valentine’s Day is tomorrow), and I can NOT abide one more crazy nutbar in my orbit!!!! I’m sorry but this gift goes untouched. I left it in the mailbox, and there it shall remain. Until St. Patty’s Day! I get my motherflippin’ mail at the post office anyway, so I’m sorry sir but I just don’t have the energy today. YOU’RE special....here's to you, Mr.Anonymous Freezer Stuffer...... Hugs! Kisses! Now go make out with your mail order squirrel bride and leave me the hell alone.
Now that THAT unpleasantness is behind us – IT’S ON!!! Grammy night bay-bee!! It begins with Gaga’s interview on “60 Minutes” at 7pm – don’t miss it. Here’s a little inside scoop on one of the Grammy show performances: Eminem & Rihanna’s duet has a certain added surprise that will have everyone buzzing tomorrow morning! I can’t say what it is but…… pay attention! I’ll be Facebooking live throughout the show – text me or drop me your comments ;) I love the feedback! Kay, time to go make my popcorn.....
SO excited for the Hinder/Saving Abel/MyDarkest Days show tonight! If you see two crazy people backstage that kinda resemble me & Kyle, um…..that IS me & Kyle! Come say HI! We’ll party with you! I’ll have Flip cam handy so hopefully things get a little nutty. I’m gonna try to sneak a quickie interview with as many band members as possible. The trick is: show some cleavage & be polite. (Actually, this works for getting out of parking tickets too).
See you tonight! Then tomorrow morning I’m OFF (woooooot) so I get to sleep IN til 8am! Wowwwww. But I’ll totally be ready to rock again at Scranton Hardware Bar tomorrow night. See you there at 10pm. (Cushy little life I lead, isn't it?)
By the way, I have a smile in my heart right now because I just opened two emails containing baby pictures that are simply ANGELIC! My cousin Emily’s newborn Addison is perfection and I find myself revisiting her photos throughout my hectic workday just for a quick pick-me-up. And I got new pics of my nephew Ben – he’s getting so big! Thirteen pounds now! He’s starting to look like such a little boy – AAAA! It feels like he’s already growing up too fast. I can’t wait to snuggle and hug him and sing to him when I babysit on the 19th (I’m literally counting the days).
We interviewed Jerry Springer this morning, so in his honor, I have a “Final Thought”: Ever have those moments in your life when you look around and notice that ALL of your friends & family are happy and healthy? I’m reveling in that right now. I have between 60-70 cousins, aunts, uncles, etc, and everybody keeps having babies. We are abundantly blessed that they all keep popping out healthy. I’m gonna take a minute to stare at Ben & Addison’s pictures again and just count my blessings. Then I’m off to buy a new slutty outfit for tonight! Hahaaa! YEAH! Devil horns up….DE-NEET!!!
How is this "racy"?Â There seems to be much hubbub regarding the cover art for Lady Gaga's forthcoming single "Born This Way" -Â it's off the new album of the same name, which drops May 23rd. I gotta say, I'm not getting it (the hubbub, I mean....theÂ ALBUM I'm getting).Â Gorgeous imagery if you ask me! And would we expect anything less from our darling Monster Queen?Â Can't wait for the new album!
This will be a great week for music - we've got Gaga's single on Friday, Grammy Awards on Sunday, Britney's new video premiering on MTV Thursday the 17th....oh man, I'm bursting with fruit flavor! :D Where will YOU be watching the Grammys? I've got my little ritual down (The Grammys are like the Super Bowl to me). I watch all the pre-show coverage AND the big shizzow while I'm curled up in a blanket on the couch with a giant bucket of overly buttered popcorn and I text friends & family while I'm Facebooking, documenting every nuance of the show. (Yes, my phone is very buttery by the end of the evening.....)
So if you'reÂ part ofÂ my inner circleÂ you can expect some mad texting from Lissy Lou on Sunday night, asking your thoughts on everything from performers to outfits. Be ready!
Our stupid Skouching stunt made the NEWS! Ha! Ryan Leckey from WNEP TV was aboard our lovely leather projectile yesterday at Kirby Park, so his camera crew showed up to catch him in the act. I still can’t believe we did this...... Kids, do NOT try this at home! (Seriously)….. Here's the link if you wanna watch it:
........special thanks to our man KYLE for sitting in front of his TV all afternoon, waiting for the sliiiight possibility that this footage may roll - Kyle, you da MAN bro!! And for cripes sakes, get a life..... haaaaaa ;)
Woke up at 2am, even before my 2:30 alarm this morning. Any bets on how early I get drowsy today? I’d say somewhere between noon and noon-thirty. I hafta nap somewhere or I’ll be wrecked all weekend. Later tonight I’m gonna be at Scranton Hardware bar - if you’re out, come say HI! We’ll get nutty! I love the staff at both Hardware Bars, they’re very good to me :) And they’re very hot, which helps. Gotta love some quality eye candy! On Saturday, I’m gonna hit an early Zumba class, then I’ll be on the air in the afternoon (giving away Big Time Rush tickets – parents, LISTEN UP!).
And SUNDAY…….(sigh) Sunday, bloody Sunday. Er…..I mean, I hope not. We will embark upon our illustrious Skouch Journey on Sunday!!!! 10am, Kirby Park: Me, Rocky, Sue, Ryan Leckey, and whoever the hell else has a death wish. We’ll be careening down a hill at warp speed on our Skouch…… Mom, Dad, if you’re reading this……could you email me my blood type please? I just wanna know what to tell the ER people when I’m gushing three or four liters of vein filler. We should be done with our stunt by noon and home to put on our fat pants for the Super Bowl by one. OR we’ll be watching the big game from our hospital beds with fifty CC’s of common sense being fed to us intravenously by much smarter people in the medical field. Either way, I’m excited to see Christina do the anthem. Also pumped for the Black Eyed Peas Halftime Show! Annnnnnd, yes, I plan to indulge in some high fat content football-related cuisine. Wings. Nachos. Pizza. Beer. Why not? I deserve to celebrate the fact that I lived through Skouching, right?!
I got stuck earlier today and was able to drive my way out of it. I attributed this to my four super cool new tires!! I found myself later bragging to three different co-workers about the sheer awesomeness of my tires. This is what my life has become, folks. Bragging about tires. I’m excited about TIRES! Is this what it feels like to get old & boring? Have I started the transition? I already watch the History Channel and go to bed at 9pm…….Am I gonna start appreciating things like cushioned toilet seats and Total Cereal? AAAA! I already EAT TOTAL!!.....Their Cinnamon Crunch really IS quite tasty….AAAA!!! That’s something an old person would say! I can’t do this yet! I’m too young! What the hell? Kay, I’m off to Zumba now. Gotta go do something young. I hope we work out to “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy From Company B”………and then they let us out early so I can catch “Matlock”…..what?
Remember in “Back To The Future” when the DeLorean comes back to the mall and it’s totally covered in ice? That was my car this morning. It made me think of how cool it would be to own a DeLorean. Also, made me wonder WHY was Marty McFly (a high school kid) hanging out with some creepy old scientist man who lived alone? Does that bother anyone else? Why didn’t his parents (George & Lorraine - they fell in love at the “Enchantment Under The Sea Dance” – ha!) step in and put a stop to this?
If my parents would’ve caught me sneaking around with a delusional eccentric middle aged man when I was seventeen, they would’ve flipped out! And then I realized something: I, myself, will probably turn into a lonely eccentric old lady someday. I’m seriously gonna be the female Doc Brown. And then I’ll WISH I had a Marty McFly to stop and visit me. Instead of just my chia pet and the imaginary people on “As The World Turns”. Don’t take money, don’t take fame, don’t need no credit card to ride that train. I’ll be as creepy as they come so maybe I shouldn’t judge. (This whole thought process what brought on by an icy car….....?)
Welcome to my world, folks. Here’s how I tie it together: if you’re a little nervous today navigating our treacherous roads, just focus on inappropriate platonic May/December relationships or time travel. It’ll distract you enough that you’ll manage to relax, breathe, and get to work safely. Yeah, my brain’s a scary place to be. You should hear the stuff I keep to myself.
I'm sitting here reading the birth announcements in the paper and noticing some impressively gorgeous baby names: Ava, Grace, Jacob, Olivia, Michael, Sophia, John, Juliana - all local kids born within the last week. Terrific names NEPA! And the babies looked SO happy in their little photos! It’s like they knew…...
Makes me think about a situation that presented itself last Tuesday: I met a woman at Zumba named “Cinnamon”…..yes, like the spice. I’m gonna give you a minute with that……..ahem……Cinnamon……. sinkin’ in yet? Excuse me, but HOW MUCH DO YOUR PARENTS HAFTA HATE YOU TO NAME YOU “CINNAMON”?!?! And she was a perfectly charming, beautiful woman (forced, perhaps, to develop a delicious personality in lieu of a satisfactory name). I picture her getting teased in elementary school, crying by the monkey bars while all the little “Ashleys” and “Heathers” taunt her and shout things like “when will the carrot cake be done?” It’s quite tragic. I don’t know if that exact scenario ever unfolded, but my heart bleeds for her just the same. I think she could sense my name-related disdain when I met her because (to my obvious embarrassment) when she wrote her number down and handed it to me, she gave me a cheerful “Call me! We should totally hang out!” I just looked at the note and said “Cinnamon?.....Whoa.” I didn’t mean it like that - it just kinda popped out. The best part was that she nodded and laughed. She’s like “yeah, I know….my parents were hippies.” So at least she has a sense of humor about it. I guess with a name like “Cinnamon” you either get funny or you get a stripper pole. (Or, if you’re Gwyneth Paltrow’s kids, you probably just throw handfuls of cash at people who make fun of your name. But then run. Cuz your dad is still Chris Martin so……an ass-whoopin’ is probably inevitable either way.)
I thank God my parents named me Melissa. I read somewhere that girls with three-syllable names get taken more seriously in life because people assume they’re smarter. I think that’s a load of crap, since THIS particular three-syllable girl negated any of her integrity by developing a fondness for Looney Tunes and The Three Stooges at an early age. But maybe on some intangible level it could be true. If so, me and “Cinnamon” better be gettin’ back to the lab. We’re moments away from developing a cure for cancer. All you “Mollies” and “Laceys” and “Britneys” can go sit in mud and try to touch your elbows to your faces. It’s all nonsense, isn’t it? A name is only a label on life’s pickle jar, no?
But parents, remember: your children DO hafta live with these names. All kidding and carrot cake aside, do your kids a favor and stick with the normies. Preferably something you don’t need “Hooked On Phonics” or the Periodic Table to pronounce. They’ll thank you. And Gwyneth Paltrow’s kids will be money-green with envy.
Did anyone else see the road worker on Coal Street today picking his nose? He was seriously standing in the middle of the street in broad daylight digging for gold. Mid-twenties, sunglasses, short brown hair, no self respect – that's him. Between that NFL player wiping a boogie on his benchmate the other day and this genius literally STOPPING TRAFFIC with his booger-play, I’m starting to wonder if the rest of society got a memo that I simply wasn’t privy to. Is this cool now? Since when is this behavior acceptable?
I would like all the flagrant booger picker guys to hook up with all the women who publicly dig out their wedgies. These people must unite. Then we can forcefully sterilize these weirdos and prohibit them from propagating the species. I mean, they’ll still be happy, having found their equally stinky-handed soulmates. Then they can ride off into the sunset together, wrist deep in orifices, madly smitten. It’ll be a modern day love story.
My friends, whoever told mature adults that this is permissible practice – they were lying. Men, quit picking your nose and staring at the findings. Women, quit picking your wedgies and doing that little “two step” til your undies realign. For cripes sakes, find a bathroom stall or an ATM vestibule or something. And if you MUST engage in this behavior publicly, immediately proceed to your nearest charity outlet or animal shelter and donate twenty bucks. At least then when the rest of us catch you conducting these delightful mini-cavity searches, we can rationalize it like “yeah, that guy’s disgusting, but a puppy just got vaccinated with his $20.” We’ll allllllll sleep better. Boogie down.
Going to see Lewis Black tonight! Woooooooo!!! Should be an awesome show – he’s one of my favorite comedians. I hope the crowd is fun. I tend to get a little irked if the audience doesn’t laugh when comedians are really funny. I have a Mitch Hedburg DVD where the crowd is obviously not getting him and every time I watch it I just cringe. I mentally curse every individual in that crowd and hope they all got explosive diarrhea on the ride home. Idiots. Why do grumpy people come to comedy shows at all? These are the same people who go to concerts and yell “SIT DOWWWWN” when everybody else is standing up. Do me a favor – if you’re lame and you have no sense of humor, maybe go to a Jeff Dunham show instead. That should be right up your alley. (You can also interchange Carlos Mencia within that sentence, works about the same way).
I think the only thing worse than a non-laugher is a heckler. Hecklers are the dudes (and you probably work with a few of these) who are NEVER funny in real life but they desperately yearn to be. So they show up at comedy clubs and yell at professionals. Simply the fact that they’re adjacent to the attention and respect THEY wish they were getting from society causes their puny little brains to implode. Suddenly they develop Tourettes. They start shouting random sentence fragments at the stage as their eyebrows go up and they give the comedian that open-mouthed smile as if to say “Hey! We’s comedy kin! Lookit the awesome flavor I’m adding to your show!”
Every person in the audience except the one married to the heckler starts wondering if it’s possible to fashion an origami stabbing apparatus from a ticket stub. It’s even worse when whoever came with the heckle-happy hosehead won’t say anything or attempt to shut them up. They just sit there like “Yep. That’s Clem. That’s what he does.” OH SWEET JEEBUS!!!! Then why did you bring him to a comedy show?!
That being said, there are very few things in life more painful than being in the audience when a comedian is NOT funny. I’d rather sit through an invasive colon procedure. But if you don’t like a comedian (or musician, theater act, dancer, whatever), here’s whatcha do kids: leave! Leave, leave, leave, leave….. Don’t yell. Never yell. The yellers are the ones whose spouses cheat on them because they go through life farting at church and never zipping their fly.
If anybody heckles Lewis tonight, Rocky, Sue, & I will go completely ninja warrior on your ass because we all LOVE him!! …………………Actually, he can probably hold his own and essentially humiliate ANY heckler into a suicidal state of self-loathing. So on second thought, heckle away! Ha! See you tonight!
As anyone in my life will tell you, I’ve developed a Zumba addiction. I go to La Nota House of Dance in Luzerne (SHOUT OUT to my gaaaaaals) and I hafta give props to everybody in my class last night for helping brainstorm some new ideas for our Skouching excursion. For those of you that DON’T religiously follow our morning show (first of all – you’re a LUNKHEAD), Rocky, Sue, and I are building a couch on skis, aka “Skouch” and plan to ride it down a ski hill. It’s taken on a life of its own now - ALL our listeners are fired up about it! They’ve donated couches, skis, hardware, offered sponsorships – it’s CRAZY! Love it! Sounds like we’re gonna have hundreds of people watching us do this stupid stunt. Can’t wait.
So I was at Zumba last night and the whole class was abuzz about our Skouch. The latest idea (which I LOVE) involves our ability to stop at the bottom of the hill. This is a major concern. They suggested that we string up some sort of net (like a volleyball net or snow fencing or something) between two trees or poles and sort of just sliiiiiiiide into it. Is it just me, or does that actually sound crazy enough to work?! Hmmmm……maybe I just need to stop putting my forehead against the microwave….I’m about to run this idea by Rocky & Sue on the air. We’ll see what they say….:D
Every girl reading this has danced around in her underwear to “Porn Star Dancing” by My Darkest Days. Dooooon’t even bother denying it!!!! Mom! Grandma! If you’re reading this – you’ve done it too, haven’t you? Yep…..I know. It’s cool. I won’t tell Grandpa. Haaaa…..I just envisioned Gram making strudel, jamming in her nightie to my heavy metal mixtape. Ha! I’m very much enjoying that visual, I gotta tell ya.….. I would highly recommend beginning EVERY day with loud music and at least a tablespoon of underwear dancing. Nobody can see you! Go ahead - do it. Remember, if you’re in your bedroom, you’re never a bad dancer - and if you’re in your car, you’re never a bad singer.
So who else is going to the show at Sherman Theater on February 10th? My Darkest Days/Saving Abel/Hinder? I’m super excited! Rock shows make me giddy. If you're gonna be there, hit me up. Perhaps we’ll convoy. And I promise to wear pants. …………….At least until Hinder does “All American Nightmare”. LOVE that song! And is that their encore? Cuz ironically, that might be the encore of my all-undie booty shaker review. You’re welcome to join. Doesn’t pay much but the uniforms are cheap.
I had to ask Rocky today “What’s the date of Valentine’s Day?” He looked both surprised and disgusted. He’s like “Lissa, are you half dude?”……um, maybe. Come on - I never celebrate it! And not just cuz I'm single. Even when I was in a relationship, I would always insist that we NOT give gifts on holidays & birthdays. I hate the whole idea of being told when to get presents. If I wanna buy somebody something, I’m just gonna do it. No special occasion required.
What always annoyed me in past relationships whenever Valentine’s Day would roll around is that most guys would act excited (at first) about the fact that I don’t want presents. They’d be all “Yeah! My girlfriend is cool!” But then inevitably, they’d totally ignore my request and show up with a gift-wrapped whatchamahoozit, shove it under my nose and be like “Surprise! I know you said you didn’t want anything, but I just couldn’t resist! Because I love you! And I knew you would love this! Dontcha just love it?! If you love me, you’ll love it!” (I’m paraphrasing of course).
How very sweet, right? This is about the time I would feel some sort of impending gastrointestinal situation and beads of sweat would start to gather ‘round my forehead as if to throw a party in honor of my awkwardness.
Usually the boyfriend was right – I did love the gift. I would then fall all over myself trying to thank him properly for being so thoughtful, while at the same time I’m just workshopping in my brain some outlandish way to make it seem as though I’m NOT an empty-handed holiday-hating doofus and I DID in fact get him a gift. Gotta give him something….gotta give him something….hmm...Should I wrap up one of these couch cushions? How about a gift certificate for a “hug”? Will he think we got a new puppy if I stick a bow on the dog’s head? Any way you slice it, I felt conspicuously uncomfortable. Discomfort would soon give way to resentment.
It’s not that I didn’t appreciate his gestures. And it’s NOT that I hate holidays. I just don’t like anything fake. (Except maybe Pam Anderson’s boobs – those things are fabulous. And they’d look like tube socks filled with oranges if they ever reverted to their natural state….so those can stay).
But when it comes to people, I like genuine thoughtfulness, not grand gestures of obligation. Perfect example: my high school boyfriend once wrote a love poem about me and bragged about how he read it in front of his entire English class as a grand display of affection. The poem described at length my gorgeous smile and beautiful green eyes. Awwwwww……Yeah. My eyes are brown. He didn't write it about ME, he wrote it about HIMSELF (in a roundabout way).
Here’s what males are thinking in regards to the whole “gift” issue though: when a girl tells me she doesn’t want Christmas presents, or birthday presents, or Valentines Day presents, she’s just kidding. She’s trying to be cool. There’s no way she really means that! Well lemme tell ya something - if the girl has my face, she means it. Guys constantly bitch and moan about how women are soooooooo hard to figure out, but when we say things in black & white, they ignore us anyway and think they’ll look like freakin’ Superman if they buy us presents. It’s insulting on a couple different levels: it’s sort of saying ALL women are into material things (even when they say they’re not), AND it’s saying that when you express viewpoints to your man, he still reserves the right to throw money at you and make you uncomfortable just so he can look good.
I’m sure my ex was thinking that I’d secretly go brag to all my girlfriends about how “MY man bought me something even when he didn’t have to! And oooooo – it’s shiny! Isn’t he a dreamboat?!” FYI – that scenario never happened. I would much rather have a dude who occasionally asks how my day was. Or remembers my friends’ names. Gifts are cool when they come from spontaneity, but gifts from obligation just make me wanna vomit. Actually, ANYTHING done outta obligation makes me wanna vomit. To be truthful, just typing the word “vomit” kinda makes me wanna vomit……I’ll be right back……gotta loooove Vomit-times Day ;)
Monica & Chandler – move over. I have the best friends EVER! Last week I got a care package from my friend Crystal in Michigan – she sent cookies, candies, homemade jam, homemade salsa, hand-crocheted dishcloths, and a little “miss you” letter that made me cry! Awwwwww! And then a few minutes ago I ran to the post office and there was this huuuuuuuuge box waiting for me behind the counter – it was from my bestie Tina. She had smiley faces drawn all over it and it said “I Love You” on the top. Awwww again! I tore it open and inside were these beautifully framed pictures, like six or seven of them, from when she visited me in September. And her letter was so perfectly worded, I'd swear she was quoting Robert Frost (if Frost had been fond of toilet humor and exclamation points). It got to me. I’m not ashamed to say, I shed a tear or two. Maybe even seven or eight. I miss her so much! Tina lives in Cincinnati and I only get to see her a couple times a year. She's the one that went with me to get matching tattoos in September, in the image of two people hugging . We named the symbol “Huggie” and decided he would bring us comfort when we’re having a poopy day (just look at your wrist, remember that somebody loves you, and BOOM your day gets better. I know it sounds cheesetastic, but hey - it works)! It’s just a coincidence that he has a diaper-related name and he exists solely to fix poopy days….haaaa.
So, I hafta say, Tina & Crystal – you have officially MADE my month by sending me such generous tokens of our friendship! I totally feel loved! And in return, you should expect a free KRZ pen or pencil sometime soon in your mailbox. That's from me. It'll include a post-it note that reads "Lissa wishes she could've hand-written this note, but alas, she is too busy. She's a big effing star and I am her assistant "Marlene". She appreciates your friendship however, and hopes you can meet up sometime soon at a designated KRZ public event. Thank you".....
AAAHAHAHAHA.....ha? No? For real, I love you guys MORE THAN YOU KNOW. You’re even better than the friends on TV cuz you never make me dance like a moron inside a water fountain. I’ll be there for you. And Ross.
Ever get mad at people cuz they don’t act the way you think they should? Yeah, me too. All the time. And I judge myself for it. Why do I DO this? More importantly, how do I stop? I just got pissed at a friend of mine because he got injured at work today and didn't go to the doctor. I actually ended up telling him he was an idiot……niiiiice. So, now he’s bleeding profusely AND he has his buddy Lissa telling him he’s an idiot. Who needs that? By the way, I DON’T think he’s an idiot. He’s actually very smart. And apparently clots well. So there you go.
But I mean, seriously, who the f#%k am I helping when I get mad at my friends for harming themselves with their own actions (or in this case, inactions)? Since when am I perfect? I’m good at keeping my mouth shut when it comes to actually ordering people around – I don’t do that. But if somebody comes to me later and says they did something careless or detrimental to themselves (especially if it’s repeat behavior), I’m the first one going “You stupid ass! Don’t hurt yourself - I love you! You’re my friend!” They’re probably thinking “Yeah…..okay……then maybe DON’T call me a stupid ass. For a change.”
Cuz also - I encourage people to do stuff that I would never have the balls to do myself in real life. Like my friend whose ex was weaseling her out of child support payments. Here’s me: “TAKE HIM TO COURT! That’s BS! You deserve your money!” Her response to me (which was classic by the way): “Well what about YOU? Have you received any royalty checks from your band lately? You wrote all those songs - take your old guitar player to court!!”…..hmmm……Touché.
She’s has a point. I avoid certain situations because I hate negativity and I don’t wanna deal with it. I wanna move on. But so does she! Once she put it to me like that, I understood and quit preaching to her. But what about all those OTHER cases where I think I’m helping people and I’m actually just talking out my bunghole? THESE are the little issues that keep me up at night. I guess I rationalize it because it’s rooted in love and it’s rooted in me wanting the best for my friends. But that doesn’t make it okay.
I still think I need a serious brain overhaul. So if somebody can follow me around with a little sign that says “SHUT IT” for when I’m being a judgmental jerkoff, I would reeeeeeally appreciate that. But beware, it’s a full-time job. Inquire within. Bring resume with previous experience. And if you’ve provided this service for anyone else in the media, such as Nancy Grace or Pat Robertson - move along. You didn’t do it right.
Had an insanely good time Monday at our Rocky, Sue, & Lissa photo shoot (as you could probably tell from watching our behind the scenes video on KRZ TV)! The good folks at Coal Creative hooked us up with their amazing photographer Chuck, and within an hourâs time we were having a blast - vamping, Vogue-ing, and laughing so hard we almost peed ourselves. Luckily we were able to hold our camera smiles long enough for Chuck to get a handful of decent poses â yay! And even more luckily we were able to hold our pee longÂ enough to get safely off premises to a designated facilitation areaâ double yay! Haaaaaaaâ¦.
Anyhoo â in addition to photography,Â Coal CreativeÂ specializes in website design, logos, imaging,Â etc - check them out! They'll work with businesses OR individuals.
Hereâs a small taste of what we got from our photo shoot â more to come soon! Thanks so much guys!!! Chuck, Gerard, youÂ both ROCK ;)
Hey! Other motorists! If you have a giant truck, SUV, or ANY other kind of vehicle that's way nicer and larger than mine, I get it: you make more money than me. You have enormous testicles. You roll phat with the honeys and there's a hot tub in your back seat. You don’t hafta blow past me doing 90 on a snowy day and then impatiently cut in front of me spraying several gallons of icey slush crap in my face. I already feel bad about my car’s absence of power locks and/or windows. Do you wanna make me cry too?
I fought the ice storm as best I could on the way to work this morning but kept it at about 45mph to be safe. I’m bewildered when people come up to me like “yeah, YOU don’t mind this weather – you’re from Michigan!”......Yeah….I still mind. I still notice other people driving like arseholes (which, by the way, we had plenty of in Michigan too).
Quick shout out to the dude in the white Corsica this morning on 81 North – DON’T STAY IN THE FAST LANE GOING 20 MPH WITH YOUR BLINKER ON AND REFUSE TO GET OUT OF A SEMI-TRUCK’S WAY, YOU INCONSIDERATE TOOL!!! You almost killed me! I feel like my mother whenever we had company coming and she went to the bakery for fancy desserts – she’d usually turn to us kids and be like “these aren’t for you”. That’s how I am with the fast lane: IT'S NOT FOR YOU! Ya know what? It’s not for me either. I have a crappy little Matchbox car about the size of a raisin. I’ve come to terms with the fact that my car cannot handle the fast lane on days like today. But where is the disconnect with some of you people?! Do you honestly NOT realize the difference between the two lanes? Fast lane is for “big-truck-wit-da-hot-tub” guy and “semi-truck” guy. Not us raisin people.
Let’s all make a conscious decision to stop driving like morons. Just pretend each car on the road is full of people you love. Or move to one of the Southern states. Those are your choices. So here we go: let's try to NOT kill each other today! Wooooo!!! :D
Saw “Green Hornet” on Saturday, thought it was good. Not exactly making Iron Man quiver in his metal undies, but not exactly Hellboy either. Somewhere in between. If you like Seth Rogen, you’ll think it’s pretty funny. I do, and I did. But the REAL star of the movie is Kato! I wish he’d do an action movie sometime - he’d be great!
Did you hear that Van Williams, the dude who starred in the original TV “Green Hornet”, is expressing displeasure with this movie? Granted, he admits he hasn’t even seen it but he’s holding fast to his claims that HIS 60's-era Hornet was never “campy” (uh, HELLO five pounds of pancake makeup and a child’s Lone Ranger mask – yes you were). To emphasize this point, he adds that he "did all those fighting scenes himself”! HAAAAAHahahaha!!! Zowee! No way. And did the chick who played “Alice” on the Brady Bunch do all those BAKING scenes herself???? Holy Hamloaf!
Why is it that as soon as any comic book movie opens, it’s like the Pied Piper of Virgin-town gathers every comic book nerd on the face of the earth and forces them at gunpoint to find a problem with the movie? I grew up with two brothers who were obsessed with comics. No, I mean OB-SESSSSSSSSED. They had dozens of those long white collectors boxes packed to the gills with every graphic novel imaginable, all encased in those little plastic sheets so they wouldn’t deteriorate. Hell, one of my bros even grew up to be a professional artist, so he works on graphic novels every day. But even with their extensive comic book knowledge and their innate ability to debate effectively, even THEY don’t waste their time picking apart these movies. Thankfully! Because they have lives. And jobs. And non-inflatable girlfriends. They also take these films for what they are: just movies. They are not the comic book! They’re never gonna be! Get over it, email@example.com!!!!
No one is impressed with the fact that you know Superman’s birthday or how old Peter Parker was when he lost his virginity (FYI – at least he lost his, look into it!). You remind me of my music friends who attain trivia knowledge not because they yearn to be immersed in music culture, but simply because they’re DYING for that one tiny moment in a backstage conversation where it might be even remotely appropriate to whip out the fact that THEY KNOW Mick Jagger’s favorite pizza topping is pimento. And everyone else is supposed to just look at each other wide-eyed and fondle themselves as if to say “wowww – who’s THAT guy? He really knows his stuff! Jeepers, he must be Randy Rhoads’ cousin or something!” Shortly thereafter, I believe every woman backstage is supposed to wanna sleep with him and the men are supposed to wanna jam with him. Yeah, don’t hold your breath. This is the ultimate threshold of douchery: people who learn factoids simply for the delayed gratification of someday “whipping out” those factoids in a giant spooge-fest of their own pretentiousness. Holy Hamloaf indeed.....
So, considering all my comic book exposure growing up, I am positive I could sit here and analyze every aspect of this movie and find holes. I couuuuuld do it. I could also put lipstick on a goat. I could take Scotch tape and give myself permanent Pee Wee Herman pig nose. I could rent “Sister Act 2”. But I’m not gonna do any of those things. Why? Because I’m an adult. An adult who would actually like to see another adult naked before I die. I finally weaned myself off juvenile behavior like blowing bubbles in my chocolate milk and giggling whenever somebody says “pussy willow”, so let’s all get off our tricycles and put on our big-kid pants. It’s only a f&%king movie. Go see “Green Hornet”. You WILL be entertained. If you let yourself be.
During our Friday morning happy hour (yes, we get drunk on the air every Friday! HA – whadda YOU do at your work?), Sue & I were actually beating Rocky in martini consumption! This majorly tickled my funny bone. We NEVER drink faster than him! So I said “hey Rock – you want a nipple for that thing?” He rolls his eyes. I thought he was gonna deck me for a second. He almost spit out his mango-tini. But it actually made him chuckle.
Dude is always forced to drink whatever Sue & I get from the guest bartenders on Fridays. Usually ends up being pretty girly. He's such a champ. I picture him running back to the office immediately after our show to do MAN things like check sports scores and hammer up drywall, just so he can re-claim his “testicular-tag”.
Someday, mark my words, Sue and I will sit down with him and pound some actual MAN BEVVIES! Maybe even watch a little football. He’s earned it. He sits through more jewelry/nail polish/high heel/giggle-fests than any guy I know. I’m actually afraid he might grow a uterus if we don’t lay off pretty soon. Then again, if I start drinking beer on top of my hockey watching and Playboy reading, I just might sprout a wiener. So I’m torn. My voice is already disturbingly low. And I seldom wear dresses. Uh-oh. I don’t know what to do here….. Would it help if Sue & I had another pillow fight?
I do know ONE thing for sure: I AM GOING TO SEE “GREEN HORNET” THIS WEEKEND!!! Been waiting for this movie for-evuh! Check here for my all-exclusive Lissy Lou movie review by the end o’ the weekend ;) SPOILER ALERT: at no point in the movie does an actual “green whore” get caught up in a “net”. Just in case you had your hopes up.
Got about a million calls & texts about the show yesterday (we were talking about my blog entry from Jan 10 involving the whole “laundry situation”). To answer everyone’s most burning question – NO, I don’t think my neighbor guy heard me talking about him on the air. And NO, I’m not worried that somebody’s gonna tell him, cause him to snap a neuron, and make him wanna kill me now. I mean let’s face it – if he really IS that nutty, then he was probably planning on killing me anyway. At least this way we got a decent two hours of radio out of it. Haaaaa.
By the way, neighbor man, I never said you were weird OR creepy just for the record!! I don’t know you. Maybe you’re awesome. All I did was relay an uncomfortable situation and if our listeners and my very close followers on the blogosphere choose to infer a certain level of creepiness based on those circumstances, well then….whaddaya gonna do?
But...... if you ARE a creepy dude....... and the listeners ARE correct about your potential quirky Mansonisms, I just ask of you ONE small favor: pleeeeeeeease don’t kill me before March! Cuz Alice Cooper’s getting the original lineup of his band back together for the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame Induction and I REALLY would like to see that. Plus the new Whitesnake album drops in March. You can kill me in April, kay?
“AAA!! My mom threw away my Dr. Dre CD!!! AND she hates Bon Jovi!” My buddies looked at me as if I’d said “my dog just died”. Twas 1994. I was in middle school. And SOMEBODY (I still wanna find out who) had clued my mother in to the street definition of "chronic"...... Yeah. Bastards cost me $13.99! My mom got realer than Real-Deal-Holyfield, as in REAL pissed about the REAL contents of my CD player. Dre was in the garbage that afternoon.
Her issue with John & Richie was different. Simply the line “I spend a lot of time in bed but baby I don’t like to sleep….” rubbed her totally the wrong way. Seriously. Ma & Pa were a little overprotective when it came to music…….um, and movies……..and friends……and clothing….pretty much everything.
I thought of this yesterday as Rocky, Sue, and I were discussing that abhorrent televised pedophile festival “Toddlers & Tiaras”. Ick. We were talking about kids (mainly young girls) being thrown into sexual situations before they’re ready. When I was in high school most of my friends had parents who were waaaaay more lenient than mine. I was SO jealous! Especially when certain kids had legal guardians who basically ignored them - oh, how cool that must be! This is literally how my panfried idiot teenage brain used to think.
By graduation day, three of my friends were knocked up, two had drug/alcohol issues, and one had an eating disorder. (Side note – I am NOT saying pregnant teens have bad parents! Nor do bad parents equal bad kids). I’m just saying THIS was the situation for my particular group of friends in our tiny backwoods Upper Michigan graduating class.
I, personally, was a total chowder-head until the age of about 22 (maybe even 24 or 25, depending on who you ask). I didn't know my butt from bison roast and I had a penchant for being "class clown" (shocker) as well as a giant flirt (even MORE of a shocker, I know). So thank GOD my parents had my back - as did several aunts, uncles, Grand-rents, etc. My life would’ve been dangerously negative if they hadn’t.
KIDS: I will seldom preach to you, but believe me when I tell you this: your parents ARE smarter than you. Listen to them. Especially if you hate them and think they suck hardcore – that just means it’s working. And if you listen to them now, they will have fewer opportunities to come back to you when you're an adult and say “see, this is why I told to _______ ” . Don’t give ‘em the satisfaction! Hahaaaaa….
Who knows, maybe someday you’ll end up working in radio - happy, healthy and able to buy several copies of WHATEVER Compton/Long Beach Rap Compilation you so choose!!!! That’s right, Ma! I bought a replacement Dr. Dre CD! Mwaaaahahahahaaaaaaa!! :D SO THERE!!!! Yeah, I’ll probably still hide it when you come to visit.
I have issues with my apartment. Too many to list here, but it boils down to this: the whole vibe of my block is just inherently not me. I have suspicions of some unsavory activity amongst my neighbors, my landlady is totally Mr. Roper (always watching my comings & goings), PLUS people are constantly partying downstairs at all hours of the night…… For Lil Lissa Lou who wakes up promptly at 2:30am and is extremely private, this is NOT how I wanna live.
I thought we’d hit rock bottom when the landlady allowed a SMOKER to move in downstairs from me. Uck. I told her I’m highly allergic and can’t STAND cigarette smoke, but this fell on deaf ears because she's friends with the dude and they party together. Apparently the bonds of nicotine-infused kinship void my right to clean air. I did not know this. So basically this is my daily hell. If it were a TV show, it’d be “Mr.Nightowl’s Nonstop Carcinogen Hootenanny”. And I'd be the anal retentive neighbor upstairs. And they’d have a clown with lung disease called “Phlegmy”.....Lease is up in June - can’t f#&@ing wait.
Soooo…….frighteningly enough, I have a NEW concern which seems to put the smoking/partying/Norman Fell scenario to shame!
See, we have a basement laundry area. I share it with Downstairs Smoker Dude (we’ll call him DSD). You hafta go outside to access it. Dank, dark, kinda creepy, occasionally “snaily”. But, whatever, it's onsite laundry and I'm a busy chick - I use it. Here's the thing: when I go outside to do my wash, DSD can see me. And every time I’m down there…..he seems to wanna be also.
As of late, I’ve noticed my laundry frequently being….um….”tampered with”. Nothing’s damaged but I’ve noticed my stuff moved, unloaded, and even (shudder) FOLDED! Ewwwwww! Okay, NOT cool! I was down there yesterday and I had a load of delicates (read: lingerie & underpantythings) that were just finishing up in the washer and when I opened the basement door he was standing there with his hand in the washer, pretending like he needed the machine!!! Again – ewwwwwww! WTF?! I am completely skeeved out by this. And now I don’t wanna do laundry in my building at all. I can’t speak up to the landlady cuz she’s friends with him. I’m not gonna say something to HIM cuz that’s just a weird convo to have. Advice?
Seems like a shame but I don’t see any other solution than to do my laundry off premises. At least the perverts at the Laundromat are polite enough to pretend they’re reading magazines as they watch me sort my silkies. That’s all I ask.
I have the personality of an addict. It’s something I’ve wrestled with my whole life. When it comes to things I enjoy, it’s almost impossible for me to avoid excess in that area at some point. I can’t run three miles, gotta run six. Can’t play piano for one hour, gotta play all day. I can’t eat just one potato chip…...you get the idea.
This trait has proven to be a blessing and a curse. When you’re focused on, say, work or a specific project you get a helluva lot done. I vividly recall sitting down at my piano and writing six entire songs for my band’s third album (words AND music) all in one day. Pretty gnarly!
But, when you allow yourself to get caught up in something not so productive - or even (GASP) counterproductive - things can get a little dangerous. It’s a wonder I’ve never had drug OR alcohol issues (that's alllll Mom & Dad by the way - they really did their homework. And lookit me now! I’m a taxpayer! :D …..hahaha)
But my obsessive compulsive tendencies got the best of me this afternoon. As I type, I am sitting cross-legged on the floor of my “luxurious” music room/office with all the lights off, two candles lit, writing in my journal. I’m finding it literally IMPOSSIBLE to shut off “Grenade” by Bruno Mars. This damn song has me hypnotized. It’s been on “repeat” for the last half hour and I can’t stop. I don’t even wanna stop!
I won’t bore you with the musical speculations upon WHY this is such a good composition, but suffice to say EVERYTHING about this song is raw emotion. It’s real. It brings me almost to tears every time I listen to it. And the rest of the album’s fantastic as well - it reminds me of when I first heard Queensryche’s Mindcrime and I just played it over and over and over and over…… totally mesmerized, like I couldn’t soak it in fast enough. This song has stirred up something inside me that I can’t seem to put my finger on. Okay, back to my journal now. I feel inspired…..and, honestly, a little hungry….. Let’s make this candle-lit OCD-fest include pizza, shall we?
I LOVE YOU TINA! My best friend called our radio show this morning (I asked her to) because recently an online dating prospect that she’d been talking to on the phone for about 2-3 months totally dropped a bombshell on her: “Hey, I just got outta prison four months ago. By the way, it was my SECOND time in there!” Whaaaaat? They hadn’t met yet so immediately she put a halt to their flirtation, explaining that she simply couldn't overlook the incarceration scenario. Smart cookie.
So..... Rocky, Sue, and I were debating whether or not WE would ever date somebody who’d been in prison. Me = no. Sue = no. Rocky = maybe.
We got TONS of calls/texts/emails from listeners, illustrating some extremely varied opinions regarding this intriguing (yet surprisingly common) situation. The gamut ran from “yes, everybody should get the benefit of the doubt” to “no way in hell – you’d always be ashamed of them”. Rest assured, there were a LOT of gray areas in between.
Here’s the most common answer (male OR female): “I’d still date them as long as it was a minor offense, it happened a long time ago and they didn’t hurt anyone.” Fair enough.
But I was SHOCKED by the dozens of listeners who were totally pissed that we’d even voice a concern whatsoever! One guy was like “You’re being a bitch! Everybody deserves a second chance! You never made mistakes?! How can you hold this against him?”
HUH?!?!?! Excuse me, but my vagina is NOT an equal opportunity employer! What the hell do you mean everybody deserves a second chance? In THIS? No, sorry, not everybody gets access to my lingerie's concealed weapons (rim-shot implied). Maaaaaybe you deserve a second chance if you just got outta prison and you’re trying to get your job back at Chuck E. Cheese. But I am not a job. Nor will I be giving them out. If you’re a felon. Sorry chump!
I'd be FRIENDS with anybody. But dating? Different story.
Okay, if I died tomorrow I wonder how many people would show up at my funeral, pretending to be sad when they were actually jerks to me in life. I mean, not to be morbid, but think about it: whenever you’re at a funeral you KNOW that a tiny fraction of those attendees are pretending to have a bigger connection to the dead person just so they can feel important. Why? What if they acted like a dink to the dead guy every single day at work? Or they were dinks to him in high school? And yet there they are, crying, hugging the dead guy’s mom, spouting half-truths about how precious their friendship was with Joe Cadaver when he was still among the living.
Do me a favor: don’t EVER do that for me. I know who likes me. I know who hates me. And I’m very cool with both groups. I just don’t want any fake hosebags hugging my Mom, telling her how freakin’ tight we were in 7th Grade Earth Science when they know damn well they were the ones who teased me and shoved me into lockers for wearing Nightranger tee shirts and reading Archie comics (apparently neither one of those things were cool in the late 90s – who knew?).
Fakers at my funeral would bug the crap outta me! Then I’d hafta come back and haunt your ass. Ya think I’m profane as a HUMAN? Imagine how offensive I’ll get when I’m undead….. Zombie OR apparition, I WILL make your lights flicker. I WILL make funky noises in your attic. And not just “chains & moans” funky. I mean “make it sound like your Grandparents are having kinky S&M sex upstairs” funky. Don’t make me do it!
I was putting gas in my car this morning when I saw a hearse go by. That’s how I started pondering my own demise. I know, that’s abnormal……Just promise me: if I die tomorrow and you spot a faker at my funeral, throw them out. And no Coldplay either. People are already bummed out enough. God forbid they get suicidal and another dead person tries to steal my thunder! (hahahaha....again: haunting, lights flickering, Grandparents doing it. Zombie Lissa shows NO mercy.)
Went to see “Black Swan” yesterday. Oh, the car chases! The explosions! The fart jokes! What a nonstop thrill ride of sights and sounds! Okay, there was none of that. But STILL very enjoyable. Natalie Portman & Mila Kunis are two of my faves, and not just because they’re both hotter than a car stereo at a Wilkes Barre pawn shop (though that IS part of it).
Ladies, your boyfriend shouldn’t put up too much of a stink about seeing this movie with you – just remind him that there’s a steamy girl-on-girl bedroom scene and it’s a dark psychological thriller. But MOSTLY emphasize the girl-on-girl bedroom scene. (It IS pretty hot). You can point out the beautiful choreography, the score, the costumes. But let’s face it: most people are plunking down the six-fiddy for a good ol’ fashioned girl-on-girl bedroom scene. And boy oh boy, this movie delivers!
There’s already Oscar buzz for Natalie Portman’s role! Yeah, she rocks. Amazing actress. She has to SOMEHOW make us believe that ballet dancers have eating disorders and Mila Kunis is gorgeous enough to make another girl wanna have sex with her – quiiiiiite a stretch Natalie! How DO you do it? Hahaaa….. I keed, I keed!!! Both ladies were absolutely fantastic. Pay the money. Go see “Black Swan”. You shan’t be disappointed.
Just think of it like the REAL ballet: come for the dancing, stay for the sexual perversion and bloodshed. And did I mention there’s a girl-on-girl bedroom scene?
THIS is the advice my horoscope gives me? Hold one thumb with the other hand for three minutes? And this is supposed to calm me down in Yoga Land? Excuse me, maybe this is just the way my juvenile little mind works, but the minute I start reading that sentence all I can think is: âyeah, Iâll TELL you where you can stick that thumbââ¦â¦... And my friends wonder why I think this crap is fruity!
We had an Astrologist on our show this morning who predicted Iâd be lucky in love AND money in 2011. She said Iâd come into a great deal of cash and a great deal of good fortune between the sheets â well GIDDYUP!! God knows Iâm due (for both). So I was riding high on the news that Iâm apparently gonna have a banner year (2011: The Year Of The Lissa â write that down) I couldnât resist the urge to read my horoscope too. Yeah, bad idea. Iâve never bought into these things. But some of my friends swear by them!
Oh well, at least theyâre fun!Â Okay, I'm off -Â I plan to sit at home for the remainder of the afternoon and anxiously await my millions. And my hunky new erotically-charged piece of man meat. Iâll be sure to call you when I acquire both. You go wait by the phone!
How am I supposed to concentrate at work when my brother sends me THIS super-cute picture of my nephew? Little Ben (âBen Kenobiâ as Auntie Lissa calls him) is getting ready to go for a walk, sleeping like an angel. Isnât that just SOÂ adorable you wannaÂ totally haul off & punch yourself in the kidneys?! We call this his âMaggie Simpson Outfitâ because it looks like that little starfish snowsuit they put on Maggie Simpson. Â Now, riddle me this: how do you people with kids EVER get anything done?!
Cuz seriously, my nephew has me under some kinda magic graphic-imagery-time-waster spell. Every time Jason & Sara (his folks â my bro & his wife) text me a new photo, I make it the background on my phone, make it the background on my work computer, and then just sit there and stare at it while I talk to him in my head. I look like an idiot! â¦â¦.justâ¦â¦staringâ¦..derrrâ¦â¦.but HEâS SO PERFECT!
And itâs even worse when I hold him in person. I just sit there mesmerized by his beautiful little faceâ¦.. and before I know it, an hour has gone by. I just canât believe Iâm capable of loving another human this much! Heâs a welcome time-waster. My heartâs exploding with love! And my computerâs exploding with picture folders. Each one labeled âKing Of Cutenessâ..... Not kidding.
(By the way, for an extra sprinkle ofÂ angel dustÂ you have GOT to check out Kelly K's blog and see little Savannah's New Years Eve pic!! Priceless!! :D We are so blessed you guys! The KRZ crew has much to be thankful for in 2011.)
As I’m leafing through the Classifieds this morning ('tis my Sunday ritual - lemon poppyseed muffin, hot cocoa, newspaper) I notice several interesting items for sale under my FAVORITE heading of all: Miscellaneous! I always love to see what random crap people are trying to peddle before their exasperated spouse finally makes them haul it to Goodwill.
Pfatlzgraff canister set, Johnson outboard motor, hottub cover, Lumbermate Pro Cycle Saw, grand piano. These were ALL in this morning’s NEPA ink & paper flea market. I mean, yeah, I am a pianist so in my craziest wildest dreams I would LOVE to have that grand piano, but let’s face it: maaaaaybe a lil outta my price range. Although I would love to see the delivery guys’ faces as the wheel up to my tiny ghetto-esque Wilkes Barre apartment with a beautiful Baldwin grand and they suddenly realize I’m NOT kidding. We’re here. This is our destination. Put it next to my cardboard end table. Thanks. ............And then tip them with a Canadian five. Ha!
But for whatever reason (and I’ve been this way since childhood) I read the full description on every miscellaneous item and start thinking this: “hmmm, maybe I COULD use a hottub cover…..or a Lumbermate saw…..or a Pfaltzjibbyjabby-whatever-the-hell-it-is”. It’s like the mere suggestion of an object makes it somewhat appealing to me. It sparks my curiosity. This is dangerous.
See, THIS is why I seldom say “yes” to dates. I’m scared to death that I’m gonna say yes to some dude, go out with him once, and start thinking that maybe he’s long-term material. Even though his personality is clearly….ahem…. a Johnson outboard motor. And by that time I’m in over my head!
That’s why I’m never open to THIS scenario: “Hey Lissa, this is my cousin. He’s an accountant. He plays rugby. He saw your picture, thinks you’re cute. You guys have a lot in common. He owns a Dave Matthews CD.”….. Ooooooookay. Nope. Perhaps if I’d met him AT a Dave Matthews show. Or if he had the man-grapes to ask me out himself…..as it is, sorry, nope. Johnson outboard motor.
I know what I want. I WANT the grand piano. Or nothing. So why waste my time AND somebody else's? See what I’m saying? There’s nothing wrong with looking, there’s nothing wrong with even picturing yourself having FUN with the Lumbermate saw. But don’t bother testing it out if you already know it’s not for you. That’s how the little Lumbermate’s feelings get hurt. And take it from me: those things are VINDICTIVE when scorned. Hahaha...If you must play around with somebody, bandsaws are much more forgiving. But they’re total sluts.
Ew. Another day, another stranger on Facebook asking me to send him naked photos of myself. Blech! Who ARE these guys? And why are they allowed to own computers? Buddy, I don’t know you. I have no desire to show you my boobs. There are plenty of real-life guys (maybe even some here at KRZ - ha!) that would gladly take a gander if I spontaneously staged a nip slip.
Sir, I think the most offensive part is that you think I’m dumb enough to do this JUST because you tell me I’m beautiful. C’mon, I know what you’re trying to do there! That is SO not a compliment. Oh wait…..you think I’m purdy?! Gosh, sorry, I didn’t hear you the first time. Let me just fork over a giant JPEG of my girlie bits, and would you like my paycheck as well? How about my car? My jewelry? Riiiight.
And they always say “I promise not to show anybody.” Ohhhhhh, good! Cuz YOU are the one stranger I would WANT looking at my nether-regions. But no other strangers. Cuz that would make it weird (?). Besides, most people already know what a naked chick looks like. I have two boobs, a bellybutton, and various other telltale femme-parts. No big surprise. You’re missing the point that the inquiry itself is the insult. Dillhole.
I do hafta chuckle, however, when they get really creative and try to sweeten the pot by promising to send ME naked pictures of THEIR disgusting saggy man-parts in return. Oh jee willickers, REALLY?! I was hoping!!! Cuz Lordy knows it’s such a challenge for a young single girl to find lonely perverts on the internet who are willing to exchange naked photos. Thank you, desperate stranger, for filling that oh-so-infinite void.
Seriously, on behalf of all women, everywhere: Dudes, if you find a girlfriend (or wife) who wants to get playful with you and AS A COUPLE you wanna do stuff like this – go for it! That’s not creepy at all. BUT…..if you display any of the behavior listed above, stop it. You’re pathetic. You’re one step away from being that old man with the popsicles on Family Guy. Imagine some mouth-breathing degenerate treating your sister (or daughter) the same way YOU’RE treating women and if you’re even halfway human, you should suddenly wanna puke.
And ladies: if you’re one of the self-nullifying inbred women who fall for this – you need to stop it too. Put the camera down. Pick up a book, quit hating your Dad, and thank me later for protecting you from an email that will someday inevitably contain glamour shots of “Frisky Frank” on a folding chair in his den, with mini-Frank perched at half-mast (cringe)…. You don’t wanna see that. Trust me.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I hafta go buy a digital camera. I just met this dude…… named Frank….. he sounds really cool! :D
Confession: since I moved here six months ago, I’ve been driving all over Pennsylvania without having ANY clue what these Red Detour, Blue Detour, Black Detour, Green, Fuschia, Paisley Detour signs mean. What the hell? (BTW I made up those last two). I probably should learn this before I do much more road-running, shouldn’t I? I’m assuming it has something to do with alcohol. Like…. follow the Red signs if you drink regular Budweiser. Blue if you favor Labatts. Black…. duh, Black & Tan. Green, O’Douls. And then the cops just arrest all the "Green sign" people because they’re so stupid. Right? Hahaaaa…am I even close?! Anyway, shoot me an email if you can help me out. firstname.lastname@example.org
And if you’re a cop, pleeeeease don’t pull me over – I promise I know what all the OTHER signs mean! Or at least most of ‘em.....
Have you tried just ignoring him? Letting his calls go to voice mail? These are the ideas I throw around when my friend comes to me with yet another tale of her ex’s antics. His behavior IS tiring and childish, but they broke up about four months ago and she’s still "in" it. He’s still calling her constantly, emailing incessantly, Facebook stalking, the whole shebang. I went through the same thing when I broke it off with my ex about a year ago so I know how she feels. I’m the PERFECT shoulder to cry on, right? Right. Well….almost right. To an extent.
I think there’s a certain “point of no return” with drama. Yes, sometimes it's thrust upon you when you’re dating, through no fault of your own, but it’s like an Emmy speech: it’s YOUR job to wrap it up as soon as possible and exit with class. She needs to commence wrap-up.
She still takes her ex’s calls on occasion and even RETURNS voicemail messages when he sounds desperate enough (or when he threatens to kill himself – yeah, he’s said that six/seven times by now….sigh). Here’s what I keep telling her: the only solution – the ONLY solution - is a total, all-encompassing, unwavering freeze-out. You do not acknowledge him. You do not speak to him. IGNORE it. Even if he is engulfed in flames on your front lawn, holding a sign that says “need water, promise not to call you anymore…” No. You do NOT acknowledge him. And this will end - I promise you.
Cuz I told her yesterday that I’ve reached my cutoff point with HER. This is it: she gets ONE more bitch session about this and then I’ve officially reached my threshold with the whole ordeal. I’m sick of repeating myself. I feel like a redneck yelling at a foreign person, convinced they’ll finally understand my language if I just keep shouting the same thing over & over but getting progressively louder & slower each time I say it.
Yes, drama sucks. But you know what sucks worse? My friend’s inability to admit that deep down she really likes it. Hardcore. She craves it. She thinks it’s a compliment that this yutz is SO bonkers over her that she secretly doesn’t want it to end. She’s afraid that she’ll never find a sane person who loves her this much. But guess what - she will. As soon as she knocks off this passive aggressive crap. Take it from a person who went through the same thing and only FINALLY saw the light after sending my phone careening through a cow pasture at two a.m. because I just couldn’t STAND another 67 calls from my ex in one day (yes, he actually did that). Rip the bandaid off, my friend. Buy a new outfit, go to Hardware with me Friday night, and let the healing process begin. Cuz seriously – I’m about to throw your %#@& phone in the Susquehanna River FOR you.
Christmas was a tad lonely, yes. But not for lack of offers, simply for lack of my willingness to crash another family’s intimate traditional gathering. I can’t party crash on Christmas – I just can’t. Sooooo……
I ran into my friend Troy at the music store on Christmas Eve. Now, when I say “friend” what I mean is: a dude I’ve spoken to maaaaaybe three times, but share an interesting bond with because we both opened up for Blue Oyster Cult at one time or another and we BOTH love the Canadian band Helix (look ‘em up – they’re fan-freaking-tastic, ay?). Anyway, we get talking and he mentions how he’s spending Christmas alone too, so what say we get together and maybe write some songs? SURE, I say. Why the hell not? Come on over! Bring yer geeeetar!
He showed up about six-ish. I had already been at the piano for about two hours. He was in head-to-toe black leather, hair long & crazy, and his mode of transportation was a black pedophile van (read: van with no back windows). He set up his equipment and we got to work - talking, laughing, singing, playing; the session was actually proving to be quite productive. Surprisingly.
But then outta the blue he turns to me and says “…hey, can I rhyme ‘stabbing’ with ‘laughing’?” And riiiiight about then, it hit me like a ton of bricks: I don’t really know this guy. What the hell was I THINKING letting him come over to my house on Christmas Eve, with only my lady landlord to aid me if something gets "questionable"? (This is the same landlord, by the way, who failed to notice the OTHER tenant in this building had gone missing for twelve days and had possibly met with some unfortunate act of malice. It finally dawned on her that something was “amiss” when she noticed her rent money was three days tardy…..even then, it wasn’t like “Gee, hey, I hope George is okay. It’s been nine years and he’s never missed a rent payment.” It was more like “Gee, hey, that George is stiffing me, isn’t he?!?! If anybody sees that bum, tell him I know what he’s trying to pull!!!” Um….”trying” to pull? Ah yes, the old “dead-in-a-ditch” scam! I’ve tried that one MANY a time. What a hoot. Ranks right up there with the classic crank-call and doorbell ding n’ dash.)
Annnnnnnyhoo – when someone asks you if they can rhyme “stabbing” with “laughing”, immediately you start filling in lyrics of your own, right? “blood on my sleeve, I love Christmas Eve, tonight’s the night for a stabbing; that DJ bitch will flop like a fish and THEN we’ll see who’s laughing”…..I’m sure this was nothing even remotely close to what Troy was thinking, but hey – it was getting late, he had been drinking, and my paranoid imagination was going through possible scenarios.
I abruptly decided we should call it a night. I could tell I was inching away from him because of my stupid suspicions, so I started getting mad at myself. I’m not like that! I don’t judge people! But here was this guy, almost a stranger, in my home, middle of the night – seriously bad judgment Lissa.
He agreed to head home, but first had to run down to his van. This is it, I thought. He’s going to retrieve his stabbing apparatus and maybe four or five severed heads for the imminent satanic ritual after he gets done with my impending offing. I waited. I scanned the room for anything I could use to defend myself juuuust in case my paranoid delusions rang true. He re-entered the apartment with a plate of cookies and a bottle of spiced cider. “Here” he says, as if it were as natural as his explanation for why Megadeth is better than Metallica “I bake a little bit”.
He set the cookies & cider down on my table and then proceeded to call a cab because he’d been drinking and didn’t wanna drive home drunk. Well…….smack my mouth and call me Sally! I couldn’t believe how very outta line I'd been with my neurotic thoughts. Just goes to show that even when you THINK you’re a great judge of character, very few of us actually are – at first. But I guess in this case, I really WAS. Cuz I let him into my house in the first place. I only started to wane when he brought up gaping flesh-wounds (which you must admit is kinda understandable) but then I reeled myself in.
Bottom line: that is NOT how my mother raised me – to judge books by their covers. So maybe it’s a good thing I’m really crappy at it. Because she DID raise me to accept baked goods from anyone willing to share them. Baked goods equal love. And Troy, you’re welcome in my casa ANYTIME mate. Sorry I thought you were a minion of the anti-Christ for a second there – my bad! Your cookies were delish. Cider was too. Hope you enjoyed the rest of your Christmas weekend, bro. And THANKS for being such a good sport about being in my blog (hahaaa - he doesn’t know he’s in here yet, but I’m expecting a phone call when he finds out….)
Why do I open my mail IN the post office? I’m such a tool. Like my schedule's so stinkin' jam-packed with business meetings and conference calls that I can BARELY squeak out a moment to review the contents of my parcels. Gottadoitrightnow!!! NOWNOWNOW! Well I learned my lesson today. No. Don't.
Mom & Dad sent me a “Christmas Care Package”, in the hopes that maybe they'd bring a little flavor of home to my new hood, and in doing so make my weekend a little less sad and “Bridget Jones-esque”….
So I scurry out of the main post office area into that little “premature mail-openers section” with all the tables and rip open this package. It contains: sheet music (from all the songs my mom & aunts & I used to perform in church on Christmas Eve – I would play piano while we all harmonized; one of the happiest sounds I've ever heard), holiday figurines, decorations from two of my grandmas, hot chocolate, and a ceramic angel playing music. The ceramic angel had a post-it note affixed to it saying (in my mother’s signature loopy handwriting) “our little angel of music – just like YOU” …….and that was it. That did it. Immediately I felt tears welling up and I spent the next ten minutes in the USPS front room staring at that damn cardboard box with sniffles, red eyes, and shortness of breath. By the way, big shocker, DIDN’T get hit on at the post office today…..
I mean, seriously Mom & Dad?!?!?! SERIOUSLY?? Hahaaaa…. it’s like Ma turned to Pa one afternoon and said “Hey! Babe! Let’s put together a little goody box for Lissy Lou! I’LL get four or five items that’ll make her wanna drive her car into a ravine and YOU get four or five items that’ll inevitably induce a lonely drinking binge while she listens to Nat King Cole and we’ll cram ALL of these magical gems into a glorious “love parcel”!!! Complete with hand-written notes and liquid chocolate sadness!”
Well, mission accomplished Parentals! Not ONLY did you make me cry in public (and in turn erase any shred of wonderment amongst my neighbors as to whether or not the new Midwestern chick in the Whitesnake tee is perhaps a little “off”), but I hafta thank you for making me realize one thing: sadness from missing people is sometimes a GOOD feeling. At least I have quality people to miss! I mean, I have people that would take the time to construct a “homesickness remedy kit” AND write teeny tiny little notes on every single item, explaining why it’s special to me and why I’M special to them. Yeah, my people are pretty freakin’ awesome.
But I gotta say THIS to my Mom & Dad:
My NEW people here in PA are pretty freakin’ awesome too! We were actually talking about this on the radio this morning and I must’ve received over 100 texts, emails, and phone calls from people inviting me to do stuff on Christmas, just reaching out like I’m welcome to hang out with them & their families anytime - how unbelievably cool is that?!
I adore the care package; it made me smile (more than it made me cry)! I’ve already sat at the piano and played EVERY SINGLE piece of sheet music, put up all the decorations, and I’m drinking the hot chocolate as we speak. But I want you to know – Mom, Dad, if you’re worried about me being alone out here, don’t be. These people are taking super good care of me. If Rocky & Sue weren’t heading to Maine on Saturday, I’d be spending Christmas with them. And I’ve had several offers from listeners, ranging from “volunteering at the soup kitchen” to “spending Christmas at the strip club” so I never hafta be alone if I don’t wanna be! (See, that’s another thing I love: these people get me. They get that I actually WOULD do BOTH of those things on the same day, even if it is Christmas day - ha!). Then again, I’m a freak. I like to cry at the bloody post office.
As I stood in the tater chip aisle of the Quick Stop in Parsippany New Jersey at 2:30am on Sunday morning, I noticed a group of three people debating discount condoms in the ever popular “afterthought pharmaceutical” section. Two women, one male. Now….. I’m not saying “hookers”. I’m not saying “pimp”. I’m not even saying fishnets are tacky (hey, Lissa Lou’s the one hangin’ out in a Jersey Quick Stop at 2am on a Sunday morning, stymied between “Nacho Cheese Combos” and “Fiddle Faddle” – maaaaaybe not the proper person to be calling other people “classless”)….. BUT! I will say this: both of the ladies had neon miniskirts, fried dye jobs, Tammy Faye eye makeup, and wads of crumpled dollar bills. And the dude was a dead ringer for Tom Arnold on a sweaty six-day coke binge. They all seemed very randy. You do the math.
This visual jackpot of human flavor led me to start thinking: do hookers usually work Christmas? Do holiday gift certificates apply when exchanged for goods & services in the back of a ’97 LeBaron? How many times have uptight businessmen crossed family & friends off their holiday shopping lists ONLY to search high & low for that final nagging “person to buy for” - MERCEDES, Daddy’s lovable little stress-reliever on Woodward Ave. These questions are seriously going through my mind as (not making this up) “Tomeka” and “Nadia” argued the effectiveness of condoms in see-through packaging. It was Tomeka’s contention that if they were exposed to a light source, they ceased to work. Nadia laughed and told her she was an “idjit”. Tom Arnold was relatively silent (stoned perhaps, or maybe thinking what I was thinking: Nadia’s obviously right. She’s got the degree in Chemical Engineering, as evidenced by that science experiment perm atop her head.)
After about five minutes, I made my way to the cash register with my selection (Combos by the way). I honestly could’ve stayed and observed these three for several more minutes but big Tom’s eyes were starting to wander in my direction and I was NOT wearing the most conservative of outfits. Didn’t want him getting any ideas.
I stood in line to pay thinking “Gee, I hope those chicks get the holidays off. But if they don’t, at least they can be happy they’re gainfully employed. Many people this time of year aren’t.” I took a moment to think about how truly lucky I am that I have a job I love, friends I love, family I love. Yeah, so I don’t get to fly to Michigan to see my parents on Christmas but I’m SO blessed in SO many other ways. For once in my life, I’m truly happy. And just like them I get to wear fun clothes, meet new people, and spread joy to others! But juuuust as I had finished paying and turned to leave, I dropped a five dollar bill. One of the ladies picked it up since my hands were full. “Here honey” she says, hands it back to me “you might want this later”. I said “thank you so much”. We all exited and rode off into the Jersey twilight.
The moral of the story is this: EVERYONE has something to be thankful for this time of year – you just hafta look for it. AND this is also proof that there really ARE some honest people left in this world. “Nadia” could’ve kept that five. She still has a LOT of student loans to pay for with that Chemical Engineering Degree.
In second grade I got into a verbal fisticuffs with a kid who said New Kids On The Block “couldn’t sing”. Ouch. He made me so angry I told him I was glad his dog died. NOT my finest moment. But as a result of our spat, both of us were told to sit in separate corners while the REST of the class enjoyed Christmas cupcakes and watched Frosty.
Cut to last night. I had to stay home from the KRZ Holiday Party because I was disgustingly ill. DAMMIT! (Although it was actually kinda refreshing for once to be excluded from an event due to something OTHER than my verbal indiscretions). Good thing I live alone cuz I was already in foul mood yesterday due to the sickness and now heap on “pouty” in addition to sick – yeah I was a joy to be around.
Why is it that whenever you hafta skip a party (or dance, or “hootinanny” if my Michigan relatives are reading this) you ALWAYS assume that everyone there is having the most fabulous time of their lives and you picture all your buddies from work re-enacting Benny Hill sketches and scenes from the Playboy grotto. Rocky had platform shoes on, his tie around his forehead and hopped up on a table to do that “biker-bar tequila dance” from Pee Wee’s Big Adventure…. At least in my mind. You see how I drive myself nuts?!
So this morning everybody’s talking about how much FUN they had, how awesome the food was, how much they drank, yada yada yo, and I’m stuck answering the whole “LISSA! Where were you?” question with the obvious gross answer. And then they look at me like “ew – why did you just use the word ‘mucus’?” Hey…. you asked.
But I feel better today. Sleep, Nyquil, and chicken soup did me good. I still reserve the right to be bitter though. Pouting continues. I mean, hell, my undies are still in a twist about the whole 2nd Grade cupcake thing! Therapy, Lissa. Therapy. Make it a rotation: soup, therapy, soup, therapy…..you can end with cupcakes. And quit your bitching.
The correct answer to each of the following questions is: “probably not”…… Should Lissa drink from Kyle’s magic flask before the Hinder show? Should Lissa eat nothing but a banana all day and expect to have the alcohol tolerance of a six foot male? Should Lissa EVER play “rock, paper, scissors” for shots? SMART response = “probably not”. Buuuuut, flashback to 8pm yesterday and apparently I thought all of the above were simply smashing ideas.
Croc Rock was balls to the wall for Hinder, drenched in sweat & rock and roll. Just the way I like it. Awesome show, crowd was insane, I was with fun people. Todd, Candi, Kyle, and I met Amanda & John before the show for some adult bevvies and that’s when it all began. I remember Amanda saying “Hey you should try these martinis! You can hardly taste the alcohol!” How right she was. Cut to three hours later and I’m stomach to stomach with a burly bouncer named Leroy comparing tattoos and yelling back & forth about how Aerosmith is going in the crapper now that Tyler’s on Idol. (BTW – Leroy, call me. I still have your “guns don’t kill people, I do” bandana.)
I’m trying to remember bits & pieces of our idiotic banter on the ride home - as much as I’d like to believe we were quoting Tolstoy and Emily Dickinson, I fear not. Unless Dickinson was abundantly more fond of the word “dude” than I recall.
We were almost back to Wilkes Barre when we broke down on the turnpike and ended up being rescued by Penn DOT…... Poor Todd. He was kind enough to be our designated driver and what did he get for his fun night out? A busted vehicle, a $70 cab ride, and a stern lecture from “Mitch” the Penn DOT guy. What did I get for MY fun night out? A lesson. In what to remember when you party in NEPA: never drink anything that comes out of Kyle’s jacket. Never say “Steven Tyler’s turning into a sissy mary” when talking to a 300 pound bouncer with an Aerosmith tattoo. And lastly, never play “rock, paper, scissors” with a chronic self-gratifier because they will ALWAYS have the unfair advantage (sorry Kyle - yes, I went there).
When you work in radio and/or TV and you’re dating someone, oddly enough it’s a continuing challenge to try and tell this person anything about yourself. (Side note: I am NOT dating anybody. This is just something I was pondering as I ate my Honey Nut Cheerios and watched a 90210 rerun. Those hormone-infused bastards always say the right thing and it pisses me off.)
I think in media, we’re just so used to interviewing people that it’s a natural instinct for us to let the OTHER person share. We ask all the appropriate questions: “Where’d you go to school?” “What kinda music do you like?” “How do you feel about speckled pimento loaf?” And then we just sit back and let them conversationally unleash like the freakin’ floodgates while we periodically interject with “no kidding”….”cool”…..”I see your point”. I feel like that annoying slow-talking shrink lady from the Sopranos. Like I’m “in” the conversation, I’m just not IN the conversation. And it’s my own damn fault.
Here’s a recurring theme in my dating playbook: I like a guy. We go out a few times. We’re on date #3 or #4 and suddenly I realize…..I can tell you this dude’s favorite color, his mom’s dog’s name, how old he was when he lost his baby teeth, and how many times he’s seen Star Wars. But I swear to God if you asked him my favorite rock band of all time (something even my mail carrier knows), he’d be all Shrugsville USA. Sigh. This is about the time I start thinking I only attract narcissists and I immediately inform whomever I’m on the date with that I’m just not feeling it. See you around. (By the way, they’re always shocked by this. And that makes me feel bad.)
In an effort to help others avoid this exact same scenario, I offer a little smidgeon of advice: if you’re thinking of trying to court a member of our highly dysfunctional industry, remember to ask US questions too, okay? We may seem like we’re all cocky and self-assured but I can promise you we’re not. It’s been hammered into us since the dawn of time to ask compelling questions, listen, and then cut to commercial. We need help. Act like you give a crap about my idiotic Simpsons DVD collection. Or my pet rock, “Stu”. I mean, just ask me a question or two IN THE MIDST of talking about yourself. Even if you’re watching the movie “Caddyshack” in your mind as I’m talking, I sure as hell appreciate the effort! Extra points if you stick around and help clean Stu’s litterbox. He eats a LOT of fiber. Especially for a rock. It’s actually kinda sick.
I just fell asleep WHILE I WAS ON THE PHONE! This is how tired I am. Yeesh. Went to the big KRZ 30th Anniversary Concert last night of course (AWESOME SHOW by the way – Good Charlotte kept thanking us for having them and asking if we enjoyed their set, which I thought was freakin’ adorable. I’ve decided that Joel & Benji are so lovable we should give them all the Olsen twins’ money AND feature them in a series of wacky madcap Doublemint Gum commercials….but I digress) didn’t get home til after eleven pm!
My alarm goes off at 2:30am and I’m like “seriously”? (Yes, I said it aloud). I proceeded through my day in a dizzy haze of fake perkiness. Sadly, no one could tell the difference between Zombie Lissa and Regular Lissa, although my co-hosts did giggle and point out their delight at “the first time we’ve EVER seen you wear flats”! Yeah, something about two hours of sleep, two nights in a row that just screeeeams “DO NOT attempt four-inch platforms, woman”. Instead I made a to-do list of everything I’ve yet to accomplish at work, banged out what absolutely neeeeeded to be done today, and decided to save everything else for tomorrow. Now I go home. Beddy-bye land. Happy Haven. The place where I keep my jammies and my sanity.
Thanks EVERYBODY for coming out to the concert last night! It was great to meet you and take pictures before the show – that’s always my favorite part! I’ll see you at Hinder/Default/Saving Abel this weekend at Croc Rock – come up and say HI if you get a chance!! We’ll take pics, make stupid faces, and sing “Lips Of An Angel” with fake lisps. Er, lithpth. It’ll be sexy!.......Er, thekthy.
Ever since my Lasik Eye Surgery on Friday, the cute people have been getting cuter, the homely people are getting homelier, and it is ever more apparent that my house needs a good dusting. I had it done the day after Thanksgiving at 8:30 in the morning. My younger brother drove me after spending the night at my house, and needless to say we were both nursing a pretty hefty tryptophan hangover as we schlepped into Acuity Laser Eye & Vision Center in Scranton. Doctor Vale and his crew got me in, fixed me up, and sent me grinning like a doofus on my way home by noon. They didnât even mind that I had cranberry smashed on my sleeve! The professionalism! :D
Hereâs me on the ride home (my bro was driving of course), âWhoa! Lookit that!.....Whoa! Trees!...And road signs!...And a fire hydrant!â Yeah, I sounded like an idiot. Moreso than usual. Itâs just so cool to SEE! I canât believe the difference itâs made. I noticed a sizable improvement the first day and itâs gotten progressively better each following day. Long story short: it didnât hurt, it was quick, it worked, and Iâd recommend it for anybody with contacts or glasses. Thanks Doc Vale (acuitylaservision.com)!
By the way â my Thanksgiving dinner ROCKED (photographic proof below). Perhaps because I did not cook it. It was chef-prepared and all I had to do was chuck it in the oven for a while before my brother got there on Thursday. My apartment was all decked out with autumn decorations, candles lit, I bought flowers, basically my entire dwelling was drenched in some very un-Lissa-like girly crap. And you know what? I loved it. It was like being domesticated for a day! And by âdomesticatedâ of course I mean faking everything with pre-purchased food, dancing around in my underwear til company arrives, and getting liquored up while I yell at the TV (football RULES when youâre tipsy).
So Iâve found another baby that I'd like to abscond withâ¦.Kelly Kâs little Savannah! SO CUTE! I could just hang out with her for days.Â Momma KÂ brought her to our Annual Turkey Bowl on Sunday and even with all the chaos and people getting in her face, Savannah was an absolute doll! Okay, I know Iâve been talking nonstop about my nephew lately too, and I promise NOT to turn my blog into a veritable âwhoâs whoâ of friend & family baby pictures but I felt I had to share at least a coooouple cute shots ;)
Then this morning we were broadcasting live from the soup kitchen. Er, âsoupâ kitchen?! Â They should call it âturkey, taters, stuffing, pie, and assorted yummy hors dâoeuvresâ kitchen! Our happy helpers (read:volunteers) were unbelievably upbeat and efficient, especially for 5am. They did all the chopping, mincing, peeling, etc. so the regular staff would be ready to go for Thursday. We had over 35 volunteers, includingâ¦â¦.(wait for it)â¦â¦..MORE cute kids! Hahaha, I put some pics below (naturally). And I hafta give a special shout out to little Morgan and Abby who came with their mom to âhelp people who donât have as muchâ (yeah, thatâs a direct quote from Morgan who is obviously very sweet & wise beyond her years). I put the two sisters on the air with us for a couple minutes to introduce a song and they were fantastic! Future DJs perhaps??? We also had Brian and Noah who came with their mom Kelly for the second year in a row â thanks guys! You were potato-peelinâ champs!!
Nowâ¦.. onto planning for my OWN Thanksgiving. I thought I was gonna be all alone this Thursday, so I was bumming hardcore at the prospect of sitting like an idiot in front of seven hours of 90210 reruns,Â feasting onÂ Manwich and my own self-loathing. But wait! All the sudden my little bro called and changed my outlook like whammo! He said heâs coming from Jersey to spend Thanksgiving with me AND he gets to stay the night!!!! YAY! Iâm not exactly sure what weâre gonna do for sustinence (my culinary skills are somewhere between dumpster diving and campfire wiener-roasting) but hell, weâll figure it out. If not weâll drink beer and eat nachos. Just like the Pilgrims.
Rocky, Sue, and I were blown away by how EARLY the Hanson fans started flocking to the station for our KRZ Spotlight Lounge.Â The massesÂ hadÂ congregated by 5am! And when I say âmassesâ I mean âmasses ofÂ chicksâ. Butâ¦â¦.ya know what? THAT is a true fan! THAT is someone who deserves to be up close & personal with an artist!! We started a little late because the band was held up at Customs (they played in Montreal last night). And the Canadian hold-up was of great distress to me because Iâve noticed a recurring theme here in my new NEPA stomping grounds - everyone takes great joy in ANY instance where Canada is majorly effing up, simply because itâs sorta my homeland and that makes it easy to hold me personally responsible for any and all Canadians ANYWHERE at ANY given time doing ANYTHING stupid (which is not aÂ challenge to begin with, mmkay?). So my co-workers are all like âhey Lissa, way to go. Your stupid backwoods moose-country is keeping us from getting Hanson. Does that make you angry? Is your temperature rising? In Celsius?ââ¦..or âhey Lissa, whatâs the deal? Do they force everyone to play a hockey scrimmage before theyâre allowed to leave Quebec? Or maybe theyâre just upset that Bryan Adams isnât popular anymore?â (Hahahahaâ¦.yeah, these are direct quotes).
But once they got here and got playing everyone had a blast. The best part of the lounge was when they looked under the table and saw our intern Kyle videotaping (heâd come straight from the âHarry Potterâ premiere and was DRESSED like Harry Potter). He was forced to hang out under a table because basically that was the ONLY space available. Seriously. The room was packed to the gills. So Taylor Hansonâs like âWhoaâ¦Harry Potterâs under your table!â
Thanks for a fun time, Hanson boys! Er........ "men". Iâm hosting the Vanilla Ice show tonight at Scranton Hardware Bar soâ¦â¦..STOP! Collaborate and listenâ¦.haaaa, couldnât resist. Come see me! And Iâll be at The Scranton Santa Parade tomorrow morning, then Turkey Bowl on Sunday. Whew! Busy busy busy weekend! Good thing Iâm wearing my Wonder Woman underwear. And our intern is magic ;p
Had a blast at the Shinedown show last night with Kyle and the rest of the crazies! Can I just take a moment and express my undying love & affection (Nelson reference Lissa? REALLY?) for Scranton Cultural Center? There’s not a bad seat in that venue! And it’s absolutely gorgeous! But I digress….Shinedown was tight, great sound, fantastic harmonies, played all their hits, everything you’d want and expect – BUT the real high point of the evening for me was the encore. Opener Will Hoge and his band came back onstage and they all performed together “Simple Man” and “I Get By With A Little Help From My Friends” – awesome! Maybe I’m just channeling my inner .38 Special fan here, but I for one get all hot n’ bothered WHENEVER I get two drummers onstage! Yesss! Makes me happy in the pants :D …..don’t ask.
The ONLY negative about the show was the mother-humper behind us yapping like an idiot throughout the majority of the performance. Shinedown was doing an acoustic “VH1 Storytellers” kind of show so they were giving a little background before each song (which I LOVE). But the drunken rejects behind us found it necessary to hoot & holler some incoherent nonsense during a quiet moment when the band was trying to share a story about a friend of theirs that committed suicide. Not cool! Anybody who acts like that during an intimate show should be detained after the concert’s over and the band should be allowed to beat them senseless with mallets. (Can you tell I’m a musician? Haha). Luckily, our boy Kyle went totally Chuck Norris on their asses! He turned around, leaned toward them, and was like "Hey! Shut the #%&$ up!!!" And you know what? They did! Nary a peep outta them for the rest of the show. Niiiiiice. AND one of the ladies' boyfriends got up and left.....who KNEW Kyle was that intimidating? See what chronic Xbox usage can do for your muscles?
Bottom line - terrific night! Fun was had by all. Sleep was had by none. I’m running on maaaaaybe an hour of shut-eye so I fully expect some midday narcolepsy. Rocky & Sue look forward to my head hitting my desk with a gigantic thud. This is why they gave me a nerf desk. They know me.
I have this strange new feeling in my gut. Itâs an unnerving, rather troubling feeling: admiration for Fishboy!....Hmmmâ¦.not sure how to process this. Itâs actually making me a little queasy. But I am extremely indebted to my favorite aquatic nightdweller because he worked for me on Saturday so I could go see my family in New York! Yay! We canât all be together for Thanksgiving or Christmas so my parents drove allllllll the way from Michigan to be with their youngâuns at my brotherâs house in NY on Saturday. For those of you keeping track, this is the same brother (Jason) whose beautiful wife (Sara) just gave birth to my very first, one and only nephew â (drumroll) BEN!!!
We are ALL cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs about this baby. He is amazing! Until recently I thought all babies looked the same and all they did was eat & poop. My relative disinterest was palpable. Yeah I know, Iâm a jerk. Butâ¦â¦.enter Benjamin! I AM IN LOVE!!! Heâs about two weeks old now and I find myself just holding him & staring at him & being continually on the verge of joyous tears.Â Sooooo, I have to share at least a COUPLE baby pics or else what kind of an aunt would I be? haaaa :D Iâm not even gonna bore you with âwho I think he looks likeâ but notice how he has two eyes, a nose, and a mouth on his face?.....yeah, he gets that from me.
Â FYI - I am also totally in love with Hinderâs new single âAll American Nightmareâ â love it!Â I canât wait to see them along with Default & Saving Abel at Croc Rock on December 11th. TONIGHT: look for Kyle & I at the acoustic Shinedown show, Scranton Cultural Center â giggity! ;)
Can someone please tell me when it became okay to run your fingers through my hair at the grocery store?! I was in there a few minutes ago getting some mid-morning snackage and this random dude (think Randy Quaid’s slightly dirtier, slow-witted stunt double) starts stroking my hair. Petting me like a dog. I whip my head around and smack his hand away - “What the hell are you DOING, man?!” I glared at this guy like an old person being forced to pay full price for coffee at McDonald’s. He shrugs, smacks his gum, and calmly announces “I like hair.” About that time I look down and see a small child with a starter mullet (translation: just a teensy bit of shag south of the Mason Dixon neckline; a “starter kit” for a full-blown mullet later in life). This kid is holding the creepo’s hand and looking up at him as if to say “Why, Daddy? Why do women always shriek at you objectionably and recoil in disgust? Why also have you NOT washed this koolaid ring off my face or dressed me in weather-appropriate footwear?”
Is it just me, or do you immediately feel guilty for having great parents when you see some totally innocent kid (like this one) being shuffled around by what is obviously John Wayne Gacy’s NEPA doppelganger? I started having flashbacks – when I was growing up, my folks would make us hot chocolate, read to us, take us fishing, and OH YEAH – not feel up random women in the grocery store!!!! Good Lord. So I smiled at the boy, beat feet outta the store, wolfed down my dried pineapple, and made a mental note to look for the kid's face in ten to fifteen years on “America’s Most Wanted” . Poor little scamp. Doesn’t have a prayer, does he? At the very least he’s got his starter mullet…….cuz…….his Daddy “likes hair”…… :S Um, ew.
So itâs official. Got my new license & registration yesterday to make me an official Pennsylvanian instead of a Michigander!Â Yay! And I earrrrrrrned it, lemme tell ya. After three (yes THREE) trips to the DMV yesterday I finally have all my proper documentation and am feeling completely assimilated and content; I belong!Â IÂ lookÂ forward toÂ bitching about our local politiciansÂ and claiming to know the difference between pierogies and dumplingsâ¦â¦.still a little fuzzy on that.
Oh. My. Gaawwwwwâ¦..this is unbelievable! I swear to God these are real. Rocky & Sue were telling me about these fruity beverages from back in the day. Apparently they were some kinda big competition for Koolaid and they had a variety of flavors. But these two were my personal favorite. How disturbing is this? Refresh my memory again: WHY were they discontinued?
My best friend Tina came for a visit this weekend, all the way from Cincinnati. We had SO much fun â laughing, eating, drinking, poking around my new âhood. Iâve known Tina for eight years now and when we met back in the day I knew immediately that weâd be fast friends. Sheâs got the biggest heart in the world (I think it has seventeen ventricles) and sheâs wicked funny. But my FAVORITE part of the weekend was getting our matching tattoos! It was her idea, so I sketched something real quick when we woke up on Saturday. By late afternoon, we were newly inked and eating ice cream. In case you canât tell from the pic, itâs a design of two people hugging. Itâs to remind us that no matter how crappy our day is (or how much or co-host makes fun of our new tattooâ¦â¦Rocky) we always have someone there who loves us and is giving us a big fat hug. Awwwwwâ¦so freakinâ touching you just wanna punch yourself in the face, ainât it? Seriously, Iâve already caught myself looking at it during a totally chaotic moment and feeling this tremendous peace. Ahhhhhhhâ¦.awesome. Tina â I promise to miss you every day! And wrist â I promise to wash and disinfect you every day.
My first NEPA Susan G. Komen Race For The Cure was an amazing experience! I felt the energy, hope, and empowerment that ALWAYS accompanies a Susan G. Komen event surging through the streets of Scranton. IÂ mustÂ admitÂ though - this morning was a mix of joy and sadness for me. I do this breast cancer run with my Mom every year back in Michigan (where I'm from) and she couldn't be with me today so I cried a bit there. Â Also, I miss my friend Leona terribly (especially on days like today) after cancer stole her from me just a few short months ago. So a few more tears there. But we helped people today too..... People we don't even know. So a smile for that :)
THANKS to Tina from Cancertacular for being on the show this morning! Help fight childhood cancer in our area by saving your pennies:
Cancertacular™ of NEPA is pledging to collect 450,000 pennies by September 30, 2010 at 11:59PM. Each of those pennies represents a child who battled cancer. They will take photos of the massive pile, have both childhood cancer survivors and those who lost an angel to childhood cancer autograph them, and hand deliver them to Congress in Washington, DC. Of course, all of those pennies will come right back to NEPA to assist local children battling this monster. Pennies need not be rolled, but counted. Drop off at any of the following locations:
1. LAVENDER GOOSE, 1536 Main Street, Peckville, PA. 570.489.0380.
2. EDEN - A VEGAN CAFE, 344 Adams Avenue, Scranton, PA. 570.969.1606.
3. THE FANCIFUL FOX, Adams Avenue, Scranton, PA. 570.558.3001.
4. PRANA YOGA, 1112 Wheeler Avenue, Dunmore, PA. 570.341.8886.
5. DR. LINDA THOMAS-HEMAK'S STRP CLINIC, 5 South Washington Avenue, Jermyn, PA 18433.
6. REACH FOR THE STARS DANCE STUDIO, 662 Pocono Blvd , Mount Pocono PA 18344.
7. THE EATERY, 801 Hill Street, Jessup, PA. 570.489.1080.
8. BIZ GIFTS, 1530 Pittston Avenue, Scranton, PA. 570.342.4880.
9. ZUMBA PERFECT, 110 Terrace Drive, Blakely, PA.
10. STYLE ADDICTIONS, 202 West Elm Street, Dunmore, PA. 570.558.4247.
11. HAYSTACKS, 116 Wilkes Barre Township Blvd, Wilkes Barre, PA. 570.822.4474.
Every fall, I like to run for boobs. Actually,Â I do extensive charity workÂ toÂ benefit ANYTHING related to the American Cancer Society becauseÂ this isÂ a cause thatâs very dear to me. The âSusan G. Komen Race For The Cureâ is in Scranton next Saturday, September 11th and Iâd like to inviteÂ anyone whoâs interested to join me. I know itâs kinda short notice but hey, I just moved here so I just found out about it! Letâs do this! Letâs kick some ass! Cancer ass. I did this run in my hometown every year and I plan to make it a yearly ritual here in NEPA as well. Itâs a very fun, empowering event. Â We need TEN PEOPLE for a team soâ¦.counting meâ¦.we haveâ¦â¦â¦..um, one. Iâm gonna do this either way (alone OR with a team) but Iâd much rather have a group! If youâre uncomfortable with running, thatâs cool - Iâm down for walking too. Lemme know. Itâs more about the event than the winning (haaaa â spoken like a true perpetual loser).
Hereâs the site for Susan G Komen with RACE INFO
I had one of the BEST experiences of my life on Sunday â Skydiving with Endless Mountain Skydivers in Tunkhannock! I canât even describe how surreal this actually was â ever have sex on Christmas day after winning the lottery AND the Super Bowl? Itâs kinda like that. But better. Suffice to say Iâm already scheduling my second jump. If you have ever ever ever ever thought of doing this, oh my Lord â DO IT!! And go with EMS because not only are they extremely knowledgeable and safe, but theyâre totally hilarious to hang out with. I think this pic says it all! So if youâre thinking of jumping donât be chicken - itâll blow your mind. Call Endless Mountain Skydivers: 1 800 229 5557 or click here for their website.Â Â
Too fun! Iâm in the process of crossing thingsÂ off my âLissa Get Lostâ tour list. These are the top five listener suggested activities (or places) I MUST experience in order to become a true resident of NEPA:
-Stock Car Racing Experience at Pocono Raceway
-Old Forge Pizza Tour
Soâ¦.Two down, three to go!! I got to do the Stock Car Racing Experience on Wednesday and OH MY GAAWWWWD - awesome! The video says it all but needless to say, 160 mph in a 600 hp stock car left me speechless! Yep. Me. Speechless. Â BIG thanks to Chris, Steve, and Andy at Pocono Raceway for making it such an unbelievable day! I recommend this for anybody adventurous â not just Nascar fans. For their website, click here.
ThenÂ yesterday morning, I broadcasted live at the Plymouth Keilbasi Festival - thatâs truly the most fun Iâve ever had with endless yards of meat log. And I shared a special moment with Ryan Leckey from WNEP â breakfast of champions babyâ¦. Lissy likey :) Can't wait for my next outing!
Unbelievable! The KISS concert on Sunday totally ROCKED - went with Amanda, Tanya, and Nicki, and we were four of the happiest little Dominos this side of Detroit Rock City (those are KISS titles children â pay attention). When I was talking to the band before the show, Eric Singer commented on my authentic vintage concert tee from the Animalize Tour. He said âCool shirt â ya know, personally that was my favorite tour.â Yeah? Well YOUâRE my favorite drummer, you sexy beeeeotch! :D And Paul said âpretty hairâ which I can only assume was directed at me, unless he all of the sudden felt the urge to spontaneously comment on Tommy Thayerâs lather, rinse, repeat routine (which I seriously doubt). Those two compliments alone will give my self-esteem all the boosting it needs for the rest of eternity. I smile just thinking about it. Mad props to my girl Amanda who actually had the balls to tell Gene to stick out his tongue for their picture so they could compare! Â Haaaaa!! Sweet. She and I were jacked up from the Rock-God contact high for a good two hours after meeting them. We seldom get star struck but I hafta admit â I was. Canât believe we got to hang with Doc McGhee too AND I got a pic with him. (That might not mean much to you if youâre not a musician but trust me: Doc McGhee is the ultimate. He is the Holy Grail of rock management. You would never have heard of Scorpions, Bon Jovi, Motley Crue, Skid Row, and countless other rock acts if not for him). Bottom line: KISS blew our minds - backstage was awesome, show was amazing, my girlie crew was a blast, a damn good night in NEPA for Lilâ Lissy Loo! Canât wait to do it again :)Â
Check out our full, unedited interview with Shane Snider (son of Dee Snider and one of the stars of the reality series "Growing Up Twisted" on A&E - Tuesday nights @10pm ET)! He's officially my favorite member of the cast, even though I love the whole crew (and for the record - LOVE Twisted Sister. Who doesn't?). Shane's a Facebook friend of mine - comedian, hottie, and overall super nice guy...
Happy Early Birthday Fishboy!! Not sure if you heard, but KRZâs very own aquatic night dweller has vowed to give up cigarettes on his birthday (not an easy task for a guy who can hardly produce a photo of himself without a ciggy butt if it was taken ANY time after junior high). The birthday is fast approaching my friends, so on Saturday nightâ¦. we party!!!!!! Like itâs on sale for $19.99!!! (huh?) Weâll be celebrating the day Fishâs Mom found him in a dumpster, smacked him on the ass, rubbed him down with raccoon feces to cover the stench, and took him home to give him a well-rounded, decent upbringing full of video games, high fructose corn syrup, and dirty movies. Â Happy Birthday dude! Iâll buy you a shot (or seven) at the Woodlands tomorrow night ;p
So Kris Allen was in the studio today, much to the squealing delight of a room fulla hot nâ bothered NEPA femme-fans! We thoroughly enjoyed his acoustic set, interview, and meet & greet. I could recap the high points but youâd be better off just listening to the audio (check Rocky & Sueâs Blog). He was a tremendously easy, fun interview and dished on everything from groupies to Wheat Thins. His guitarist Cale (or as I like to call him â âmy future husbandâ- yum) was also very down-to-earth and accessible to the hordes of screaming girls we had waiting for them in the KRZ studios. Big THANKS to one of our very cool listeners (Yay Jenn!) for sharing some of her primo pics with me - Enjoy! And when you listen to the audio, tell me thatâs not the most amazing & inventive Michael Jackson cover EVER! Thanks Kris!!! Youâre true talent, my friend.Â
As I continue my search for fun NEPA-related initiation activities, I am both shocked and STOKED by how many awesome suggestions I'm getting! But I hafta say: I don't know if anybody can top this one.... I was contacted by a very cool guy named Chris who's an instructor at Pocono Raceway. He offered to take me out for their Stockcar Racing Experience!!! Whoa....600 hp Stockcar + 160 mph = Happy Lissa!!!!! Um, YESyesyesyesyesyesyes! I have a feeling that this outing is definitely gonna make our Top 5 - even Chris said (and this is direct quote), "yeah, nobody's gonna be able to top this..." Hmm, something tells me he's right.
But keep the suggestions coming - we need several! I also got an email about CBK Mountain Adventures & Camelback, which I was already planning on hitting in a couple weeks so I'm REALLY looking forward to that! We had Megan (from Camelback) in the studio last week and she totally rocks. If you wanna come with, email me. Maybe we'll even get together a lil ol' group outing! And I might coerce my parents into doing the zipline with me if I don't end up going with a bunch of friends. My Dad would definitely welcome the adrenaline rush - he just told me last night that he's planning on going skydiving in a few weeks.....gee, I wonder where I get my lust for danger. Actually, to be fair he's also responsible for my lust for Cheetohs, but "danger" just sounds so much cooler ;)
If you have a recommendation for the "Lissa Get Lost" tour - email: email@example.com
Okay, so we've been giving Rocky hell for the last week about his uber-embarrassing childhood pics and the fact that he had SEVERAL Mom-inflicted wardrobe tragedies. He's been quite the sport about it. But whaddaya know - a very intelligent (and perceptive) listener called in and pointed out that neither Sue NOR Lissa had offered up their own adolescent imagery to go head-to-head with "Velvet Boy" in a pre-pubescent awkwardness showdown. Wellllll.....here we go. And sadly, I had NO say in these photos because they were emailed directly from my Dad to Rocky (yes, Dad's a huge Rocky fan - go figure). So enjoy. And bear in mind that these fashion crimes are probably far worse than Rock's, because they were self-inflicted. My dear, sweet, innocent Mother had nothing to do it.
Email us YOUR horrendous childhood pics if you think you can up the embarrassment level! The WORST (read: "most emotionally scarring") will win tickets and backstage passes to the Goo Goo Dolls on August 7th. Contest ends August 4, 2010. Send pics here: firstname.lastname@example.org
Soâ¦. as the ânew kidâ in town, weâre conducting a little research to help complete my initiation into Northeast P.A. What things do I NEED to do? What places do I need to see? Basically, tell me what makes this area famous. Or infamous. Suggest to me ANYTHING you think I need to try in order to become a true NEPA homegirl! Places, festivals, food, sporting events, etc. Then weâre gonna narrow down your suggestions, take the best ones, and Iâll tackle them one by one (I may even bring my parents on a few outings â theyâll be visiting from Michigan during the weekend of August 21 & 22). Thanks for ALL the great suggestions so far & keep âem coming!
Email me or call us on the air tomorrow morning â
hereâs my cyber digits: email@example.com
Suggestions weâve gotten so far:
Coal Mine Tour
Pittston Tomato Festival âTomato Fightsâ
Infield at Pocono Downs
Wilkes Barres Giant Cow
How DARE Rocky make fun of my doodle?! I will crush him!! I merely cobbled together an adorable little sketch of the three of us (Me, Sue, and Rock) while we were on the air this morning and threw it in front of him. With a ginormous grin I exclaimed âHaaa! Thatâs YOU Bro! Lookit â yer doinâ jazz hands!!â He sighed. Then shook his head. Then incredulously pointed out that the sketch looks ânothing like himâ¦â Â Well excuuuuuse me Picasso.
My girl Sue was much more encouraging, laughing exuberantly and clapping her hands together. She even struck a pose âala âcartoon Sueâ and gave me a hearty thumbs-up (just like in the picture)! Â Wow! What a good friend. But alas, Captain Negativity (formerly known as âBooby Manâ or âProfessor Perv Mobileâ) had even MORE criticisms for my lighthearted doodle.Â Like the hoover vacuum of party poopery, he ranted (in no particular order, but in HIS words):
Â -Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Rocky has NEVER in the past (nor will he ever in the future) do jazz hands!
-Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Lissa appears to be miniature-size, like a tiny Shetland pony compared to Rocky & Sue â whereâs the artist perspective?! Helloooo?..... and what the hell is UP with Liss doing the splits? Is she even capable of this?
-Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Why does Lissa appear to be wearing some kind of freaky-deaky onesie instead of a shirt & pants?
-Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Why does Sueâs pose seem to indicate that sheâs headed straight to a âhoe-downâ or âhootinannyâ?
Upon completion of his tirade, I burst into tears and crumbled to the floor like Rush Limbaugh attempting to do one push-up. My cries of agony were abated only when Sue gave me a lollipop and patted my head. (This is normally how we end each and every workday). Please feel free to weigh in with some much-needed words of encouragement for my doodle.Â Because it IS just that â a doodle. Iâm saving my TRUE artistic talent for âPictionary dayââ¦.haaaa suckas!
It was difficult to choke back tears as I read on air this heartfelt sonnet I'd penned for the lovely and talented Miss Lindsay Lohan. As you know, she heads to prison tomorrow. Words cannot express my inner turmoil.......somebody hold me (warning: when I'm upset, I get a little handsy...).
Dear Lindsay Lohan, I miss you already.
But keep doing coke and you’ll look like Tom Petty.
I’m sorry our judges could not have gone easy,
On someone so freakin’ fantastically sleazy.
There’s so many things that I’ll miss about you,
Your skin is as green as ten Grinches, plus two.
You have more dirty fluids than a pit crew at Midas.
You sound like Vin Diesel with acute laryngitis.
But I’m sorry your dignity’s gone down a notch.
I still think it’s better than the name “Firecrotch”.
So for God’s sake, in prison let’s hope you recoup.
Cuz there’ll be four thousand Sam Ronsons watching you poop.
Welcome to my new blog! I'll be posting here regularly, so check back soon. In the meantime, check out this video of Rock and Snuggy burning up their Lebron James shirts below. Rocky's a lifelong Cleveland fan, so he thinks it was time to light it up!