power pamie

why you best be backing off my man

Today I have revolutionized my life. I have started my life down a completely different track. I am taking control of my body, my mind, and my self confidence.

I have started Tae Bo.

I have started to feel that tiny muscle that connects your hip and your thigh. That is the first step to the new pamie. I am up in the morning with Billy Blanks (who has his name trademarked, so I’m not sure if I’m allowed to write that there…), and I am starting a routine that will make me look as close to an anime girl as humanly possible. I will have thighs like a stallion, a stomach like… like a… flat…thing… I’ll be the new me. You think I’m excited, just check out the testimonials! Look how much fun they have just talking about Tae Bo! They are so convincing I may start using more and more exclamation points! I’m just like them! Hey! It’s fun to shout! Woo!!!! Oh, look! I just used four! How fun!

Yesterday I was excited about starting Tae Bo in the morning, so I snuck into the bathroom to take a look at what I’d look like doing the Tae Bo. Would I look all sexy and sweaty and powerful, just like the women in the tape? I started doing one of the exercises where it looks like you’re punching a bag, but there’s no bag. You just lean back and ripple your hands in this circular punch.

I punched myself in the chin and then I cut the back of my hand with the nail on my other hand.

So, you know, I’m already pretty sexy. I don’t even need this Tae Bo to learn poise, balance, and grace. I’m just doing it because everyone else is, and you never know when I’m going to be in a scene and someone in the audience will shout “Tae Bo!” I have to know how to do it, you know. The infomercials are not enough.

Plus I would never have known about the exclamation points!!!! Now I know why the Mighty Kymm has been using them for years!!! I feel better already!

When Billy is showing you how to do a new move, the others just march in back of him, nodding, like, “He speaks the truth!” I kept waiting for them to salute.

How much did I pay for the Tae Bo? Not very much… I have the capabilities to DUB! I am BRILLIANT! How do you think I have seventeen different workout tapes? I dub!

But Tae Bo is not the most important life-changing thing that I did today, oh no.

More importantly:

I have used the Mach 3.

People of the Earth! You must run out and get yourselves the Mach 3! Men! Your ladies will love you for it. Your face is baby butt smooth! Women! Never has there been a more convenient razor! At one point you will say to yourselves, “Am I actually shaving?” Yes, it’s that incredible. You will never again have to slow down around your knees. Woosh-whoosh-whoosh! Knees are clean and shaven! AMAZING! It’s incredible. I don’t care that it costs seven dollars. I don’t care that each replacement blade is two dollars. I will bow down to the incredible machine that is the Mach 3.

But why does it cost so much, you ask? DON’T QUESTION THE GREATNESS OF THE MACH 3! Just use it! Do it!

Everyone is wondering if it works. Stop asking yourself questions! OBEY THE POWER OF THE MACH 3!

Still wondering? Still planning on plodding through life with a paltry Mach 1 or a puny Mach 2? Give the Mach 3 a test drive!

DO IT!!!

Last night Eric and I went out for our Valentine’s Day dinner, since he had to work on Valentine’s and I was a big sick booze hound. Anyway, we went to the restaurant where Eric recently quit. Let me tell you, the nineteen year old girls were missing him. Eric was the most popular boy on the floor.

We walk in and one girl points and shouts, “You are so sitting in my section or I’ll beat you.”

So we sat in her section. She kept sitting down to talk to Eric. Now, I’ve watched girls flirt with my boyfriend before, and I’ve handled it. But I was going to play this one cool, you know. So she’s sitting at our table, talking to Eric and I’m having these flashbacks as to what I used to do when I liked an older boy. She was doing all of them:

“So, this guy obviously likes me, but I don’t know what to do. Should I go for him? I mean, what do you think?”

Answer she wants: “Please don’t go with anyone else. You’re my girl. I just have to get rid of this one. Oh, the thought of you in another man’s arms just rips me apart! Please wait for me. I’m coming. Just give me a couple of hours.”

“I swear, if my parents ever found out about my drinking, they’d kill me.”

Response she’s looking for: “Screw your parents. Come live with me. I’ve got a great place that would be perfect for just the two of us.”

“I can’t wait to graduate. All of my friends are older than I am. It’s so stupid I’m still in school.”

Anticipated response: “You’re right. You are very mature for your age. I hadn’t even noticed that you haven’t taken an SAT. It is stupid that you are in school. They should just give you a diploma for being so cool. I bet you put out. That’s so sexy.”

Then she looks at me.

“You don’t understand. I can’t believe Eric quit. He has to work here. Eric’s my only entertainment.”

“Obviously,” was my only reply.

She left, and another one sat down. This one wasn’t obviously hitting on Eric, but was talking to the two of us. I think she just wanted to have some conversation. She was talking about how the other one won’t ever have sex with anyone but she will, and that makes her cooler. I looked down at the table. This is a restaurant where you can write on the tables in crayon… I’m not naming any names, but if you know which one I’m talking about, then you have a better image of the table. Anyway, I look down and she’s written “I love Eric” on the table.

“You don’t mind that I’m doing that, do you?” She asks me.

“No, of course not. Everyone loves Eric,” I replied.

“Is this like a romantic dinner I’m interrupting?” she asked.

“Kind of, ” Eric said. “It’s our Valentine’s dinner.”

“Oh my God, how terrible,” she said, and she left the table in apologies.

“Now, her, I kind of like,” I said.

“Yeah?” Eric asked.

“She reminds me of someone who’s web page I’d read.”

“Except she’d live in San Francisco,” he said.

Just as Eric had transformed “I love Eric” into “I love Erica” to make me feel better, and the other one sat down.

“I hate that guy over there.”

That guy over there came over to talk to Eric, and threw a napkin in the girl’s face. Her look of utter horror and embarrassment made even me feel bad. She got dissed in front of the guy she was trying to get with. She got dissed in front of the guy she was trying to get with’s girlfriend. How terrible.

So eventually, Eric moved us over to the bar to have some privacy, and then the others started walking over.

“I can’t believe those girls wouldn’t leave you two alone. Obviously you just want some time to yourselves.”

“That’s terrible that you two had to come all the way over here to talk.”

“Are you two having a– oh, sorry. I’ll go.”

He was like a pasta magnet. All waitstaff had to chat. And you know, on one hand, that’s great, he was loved. But on the other hand, I felt like if I tried to hold his hand or kiss him or talk sweet nothings, then it was like I was pissing on my territory, tail in the air.

What is the polite thing to do when the females are moving in on your man? Do I go Jerry Springer on them? Do I just sit and smile like nothing is happening? Do I growl and hiss like a cat? Do I just get drunk and pretend I don’t notice?

I just don’t understand why ladies have to hit on men when they are with their women. I won’t always be in the freaking room. Have some patience, for God’s sake. And wipe your chin. Jesus.

Well, I think I just came up with my next Hissyfit. Clear some space, Wing! I’m coming in!

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