Etiquette Series: Driver Etiquette

So as drivers, we all have certain rules that we think our passengers should abide by e.g. don’t smoke in my car, hands off my stereo, no licking the windows, etc. Well, this part of the etiquette series isn’t about how we should act as a driver. Oh no, that would be way too easy. This is about how to act as the driver when I’m your passenger. That’s right. Now, you may say I could just as easily hop in my car and drive myself, right? Well, college days when you don’t have your own car on campus or you must ride with someone who insists on driving every time, whether to Wal-Mart or road trippin’, sometimes I just couldn’t avoid it. And of course, this all stems from personal experience. It’s not that I hate you as a person, it’s just that I hate the way you drive.

1. There is a reason that the pedals are positioned the way they are on a car. Do not attempt to cross your legs to drive. You’re not wearing a skirt, and even if you were, I can assure you that not one of the seven dwarfs nor any stars from that TLC show are down there. Your junk is just not that important.

2. I already don’t like it that you text other people nonstop while I’m around. Don’t take that shit on the road. Remember, you still have to concentrate on balancing the cigarette and soda in one hand while you repeat the same song’s chorus—for the 14th time.

3. Don’t get mad at me when I change the song on your iPod; it’s not my fault that your music taste is awful. Let’s just say that when I plug in my tunes, I’m just trying to expand your horizons.

4. I’m pretty sure that the 83 year –old lady in the Buick does not want to race you.

5. Listen, I am your passenger. My life is in your hands. If you would wreck only to kill me and survive, know that I will come back to haunt you and your ass would be mine!

6. Unless you are driving a trash truck (in which case I will not be riding along), your vehicle’s purpose is to carry passengers from one place to the next. It is not reserved for litter and dirty messes. And trust me, the air freshener in the vents does not help make it look or smell prettier.

7. I pretty much suck with directions already. If the heinous witch of a lady inside the GPS tells you to turn the wrong way onto a one-way street, do not automatically assume that I reprogrammed her to ruin your life. But if she calls you a foolass for listening to her anyway, I might have had something to do with that.

8. Position your seat so you can clearly see optimally at all angles. Do not for any reason lean your seat back so that you can thrust at the air in perfect synchronization with the bass line of your new favorite song.

9. Lastly, I do appreciate the mom arm you sling across my chest whenever a sudden stop becomes necessary; however, I do not appreciate your wandering hands.

Introducing a New Series: Drunken Diaries

So this idea came to me spontaneously a few nights ago. While we all recall drunken memories the next day, we hardly sit down at a computer to write about what's happening at that exact moment. Unless of course we are drunk texting/facebooking, which I highly advise users to avoid. Well, I decided to sit at my computer and just let my consciousness stream all over the page. This is the beginning of the new series. I won't predict how frequently this series will be updated, because that would just make it lose its magic. Here it is:

Entry #1: June, 23-24, 2009
This is the first entry on my drunk diary series. These are just as they sound. I get drunk one night, and then I write something that I’ve learned or experienced this evening.

I’ve unofficially adopted a cat. Her name is Binx. I think it’s a her. I never really checked. All I know is that she is in dire need of mental help. While Hubbs and I sat outside to eat a lovely Italian dinner complete with spaghetti and wine, the cat made several attempts to drink the wine and even made an attempt to cut herself. She kept jumping on the tray that held the bottle and then finally dove for the knife after her several failed attempts. Be careful, kitty, that’s just a butter knife. Hubbs fed her a bit of the turkey from the spaghetti while I threw a large chunk of squishy zucchini out into the road. Damn cat didn’t go after that until an hour later. Like it tastes any good now. Stupid kitty. Nevertheless, the cat kept coming back for our multiple drinks. Sweet tea vodka and some pineapple rum/V8 splash/peach schnapps concoction—which is fucking amazing and I’m still drinking—kept drawing this cat back for more. So anyway, the cat kept coming back and I decided to dub it “Binx.” That was the best fit for the jet black cat because it wouldn’t answer to “fuck off” or “kitty, kitty.” ‘Tis a shame though; if I ever had a stupid cat, its name would be Kitty Kitty. Binx is okay though—we had a conversation about childhood movies and Hocus Pocus came up. Don’t roll your eyes, you know you love that shit.
Which brings me to my next point: I’m not sure what it is, but every time I get a little/lot drunk like this, my contacts always slip and slide on my eyes like it’s a good ol’ time. Wrong. The composition of my eyes does not change when I drink rum or wine. This is unacceptable. I think I may need to write the Acuvue company with complaint. There is nothing about not handling this product while drunk. I know they will not correct my “beer goggle vision” nor my ability to drive a motor vehicle (which is okay because a sober driver or walking is always the best way to go). But damn, you would think at least these bitches could stay in my eye. It’s only 11:52 now and I’m currently looking through my left eye to keep my right eye closed for fear that the contacts will slip out.
Shit. My ability to type in the correct passwords to social networking sites is not up to par at the time. But then again, it’s not like I can see to type very well. Someone get me an eye patch! Shit, now the left contact is slipping so I can’t read the precious status updates. Oh, I have 3 new notifications. Fuck, it’s just telling me that I **might** have relatives on facebook. What a waste of my time. I’m already friends with all my cool relatives. Shit. Now I really can’t see. Time for glasses. Brb.
Damn, I really enjoy urination when drunk. Is that not the best sensation ever? Come on, you know.
Amanda Palmer sounds like a man. New artist Hubbs got me to listen to tonight. It brings about that joke about the name Amanda as the perfect cross-dresser name: A-Man-Duh! Haha I wonder if she thought of that when picking out her name. Or maybe it was just an unfortunate coincidence. Damn that word is difficult to spell.
I really hope that I can recover and make it to the gym tomorrow. Going to work should be cake, but I really want to make it to the gym. Not for rock hard abs or to sweat to death, no, no, I want to see that hella cute swim instructor I finally made contact with today in the steam room. Steam room + cute boy = danger for this girl. It’s on my top ten list of “special places.” Ha, like you don’t have one.
There’s a new nightclub in BG named “Fluid” that officially opens up on Friday. The bar is supposed to be uppity-scale for young professionals (which is right up my alley, I guess), but I can’t get over the name. Exactly what fluid are we talking here, nightclub. That’s dirty. I think I’ll stick with the bar that I bat 1000% at; it’s called Tidballs. That’s right.
Damn. I just typed a password correctly. Does that mean I’m sobering up?
No. Spell check just corrected every other word in this sentence. And there’s still about a ½ of the glass. (that was supposed to be one-third).
Oh no, a song from The Gougers (who are awesome by the way) just came on. It may entice me to get all sentimental or deep. Which may really only be about as deep as this glass that sits beside me. Maybe that’s a deep statement in itself to call such a shallow object the bottom of my depth. I have no idea what that means. I’ll take a sip.
You know, I know that I should stop drinking. Hell, it’s Wednesday and I still have to report for work at 8 a.m. tomorrow. It’s only 12:12 now, so that’s not terrible. I don’t wake up until 7:15 anyway. But still, there’s a small portion of concoction left in my glass and I must finish it. Waste not, want not, right?
Woah, dizzy.
One last sip. Dammit, I can’t get it in one sip. One more.
Yes, I’ve accomplished my final task for the night. Well, now that it’s 12:15 maybe that’s my accomplishment for Thursday. If that’s my accomplishment then maybe I should call in to work. It would go something like this:
Me: “I’m sorry, I won’t make it in today.”
Boss: “Oh, are you sick?”
Me: “No, I’ve accomplished everything I need to accomplish for today.”
Boss: “But you haven’t even come in to the office today.”
Me: “Well, no, but I’m awesome.”
Boss: “No need for explanation. That is common knowledge.”
Ha, right. I’m not that drunk. We all know that wouldn’t ever work. As far as being awesome… Well, that really is common knowledge..

Until next entry, I am (for now) yours,

Drunk as hell Hillary J H

The Boyfriend Application

The Boyfriend Application:

You know, I find it to be completely normal for a lady such as myself to have a set, or list if you will, of traits and qualities she would like in a mate. Some list entries are quite vague--boys must have one functioning penis. Other entries feature qualities that I doubt even exist--e.g. boys must express no interest in porn (this is not on my personal list just so you know; it is merely an example). See, I used to venture toward the vague side of the trait list. However, what I’ve found as of late is that my vague traits need a certain amount of tailoring so that I don’t leave something out. So I’ve developed this boyfriend application based on my list. Just for you lucky lads--complete with all the strings.

Attention Boys:

Please fill out the following application to the best of your ability. Be honest because if I find that you were untruthful on this application upon meeting you, there will be physical pain. However, the most pain you’ll experience in your truthful application will be caused by a minor paper cut or your own morality (in which I will not take blame for). Good luck!

Section A.
Personal Profile

Name: ________________  __________  ____________(if your last name is Clinton, rip up the paper now—I’ve heard too many Hillary Clinton jokes with my name already.)

Age: _______ (any man over 30 should rip this document up unless you are, in fact, Simon Cowell—shut up, he’s hot and would have no problem calling someone rude or a horrible person on my behalf. Sorry, Brad Pitt, but you have way too many children.)

Sex: ___________ (if you answered “Yes, please” then I like your witticism already—please be sure to circle “Handcuffs” when considering Section D.)

Single or Married: _______________ (Hint: Married is the WRONG answer)

# of Children: ___________________ (Another Hint: 0 is the CORRECT answer)

Section B.
Favorites
(Please provide answers to boring questions that I just need to know. I’ve given tips for each question.)

Color: (Not mauve—I’m not even sure I know what color that is)
Sport: (Competitive burping is not a sport)
Food: (P.S. Atkins followers need not apply)
Movie: (Anything goes from G to X rated)
TV show: (It would be very wise to put Friends)
Game: (Life—I like double entendres)
Song: (Don’t rush this one: it’s important)

Section C.
Personality Continuum
Please place an “X” at the point which you believe you fall on each continuum

Couch Potato                                                            Survivorman   
_________________________________________________________

Broke as a bum                   Able to purchase a small Hawaiian island
_________________________________________________________

Saint in hell                                                              Total asshat
_________________________________________________________

Euchre playing old fart                                                 Man-child
________________________________________________________

Knight in shining whatever                       You always interrupt, rude
__________________________________________________________
(Name both references from the continuum above and win a slutty prize. Seriously.)
___________________  from _____________________ & _____________________ from______________________ 

Section D.
Play and Pleasure
Please circle the following topics that interest you

Cardinals baseball
Video games
Handcuffs
Live music
Travel

Softball
Outdoors
Puppies
Driving
Swimming

Getting your ass up
Yard sales
Wine and spirits
Cooking
Cuddling

If you can’t circle at least 10 of the 15 options then you better be really, really good-looking to make up for your crappy personality. If you are only able to circle 5 and you are really, really good-looking then I’m lead to believe that you are still dull and we will not be compatible. You’re probably a vain bastard to boot. Sorry.

Section E.
Short answer
What? You really thought you could get past a writer without writing at least a few sentences? Ha! Foolass.

I consider myself:
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

I wish I could be more:
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

On a first date, I like to:
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Section F.
References
Please list 3 single, attractive, male friends that I can contact in the event that your application really sucks.

Hot friend # 1: ____________________________________________________________________

Hot friend # 2:
__________________________________________________________________

Hot friend # 3:
____________________________________________________________________

Final Instructions
Please submit the application with at least one color photo dated within the past 6 months of submission. Failure to do so does not lead me to believe you are cute and mysterious; rather I will just void your application and think you are rather creepy.

Thank you for your time and good luck, boys!