Ir currently abhor my appearance.
I’ve been on Weight Watchers THE WHOLE WEEK, and okay, shut up. But I’ve lost no pounds, none! This is the second diet I’ve tried where I lost zero pounds the first week and said, Fuck it. But I’ll keep fucking trying, as I think I paid 11 dollars for the whole month, and I’m gonna get my money’s worth.
Plus also, I’m not Botoxing, and I look like that actress from Throw Mama From the Train.
Anyway. That’s my current state.
Oh! I painted the back room! I should have warned you to hang on to your hats. My mother is coming to visit Friday, and why do I try to pretend I’m not a slob? Like she wasn’t there for the state of my room from birth to age 18. Okay 22.
Anyway, this weekend I said, Ima clean the house. I’ll go room by room. Ima start with the back room.
So I took everything out of there to wash the floor and then I remembered I had all that paint that Laurie left me, and next thing you know old Jed’s a millionaire and I’m painting the goddamn room.
It took all weekend. The paint can–and Dear Paint Can People: MAKE YOUR FONT BIGGER–said to wait four hours between coats, and I had the rest of my life to live, so it took both damn days.
TAAA-DAAA! Wow, June, it looks…the same. Yeah, I know. But trust me. It went from beige to white. Also, we all know how I feel about that floor. Once I get rich from you guys clicking to Amazon from my page, I’ll have the floor tiled.
Oh! And one of you said, “Be sure to tell people about Prime Day.” And I was all, yeah, I probably should. On July 11, Amazon has this sale that’s comparable to Black Friday, and it starts at 9 eastern tonight. So if you want to buy anything on Amazon today or tomorrow, do me a solid and get there from my not-blog, will you?
Here. Below is an image. Click on it and it takes you to Amazon.
There. Or, if you come back later, when the Prime Day sale starts, there’s a permanent ad for Amazon on the side of my not-blog now (it’s at the very bottom if you’re looking from your phone). If you click that, it also takes you over to Amazon and Amazon will know you’ve gotten there through me and I will get credit for it.
Oooo, you know what? I have’t looked to see how much cash I’ve made since I started on Thursday or whenever.
These Amazon links are hilarious. That’s another one, right up there. Some of you have asked why I just throw in an image and not text, but text won’t work. It just shows up as code. I don’t know why. All this effort to get rich is stressing me out. It’s hard work getting rich.
Also, am extraordinarily grateful to not be named Wallace D. Wattles.
In other news, I won the free baseball tickets at work, finally. I don’t even wanna go to the baseball game, really, it just irked me that I never won. But I did, and I got tickets for this past Saturday night, and I took Ned because Ned adores fucking baseball, and you should have been hanging around with Ned a lot, JUNE.
“It might rain,” said Ned. “That’d be perfect for you, cause then you’d still look like you were really being nice by trying to take me to a game, but you got to get out of it cause of rain.”
As I drove to his house, I saw a bolt of lightning. As I got out of my car to walk to his door, I heard thunder. I am not making that up.
“We could walk,” said fucking fucking annoying fucking Ned. “It’s not far.”
Careful readers will recall he tried to pull that “let’s walk” bullshit on me on 90-degree-day 4th of July. He wanted me to walk 45 minutes downtown, then walk around downtown, then walk home. I refused, and because Ned is a PIT BULL about plans, he went anyway and dearly regretted it.
I considered that a personal victory.
Since the tickets were gotten by me, with my very strenuous activity of signing up at work, and by “signing up” I mean replying to the receptionist who wrote, “Who wants tickets?” I got to say no. No, we are NOT WALKING, Ned.
We found a parking lot really close by (HAH. SUCK IT, Ned) and as we got out the car, I felt the first raindrop.
Pit bull. “Let’s just go in. We can at least get a hot dog,” said Ned. Seriously, when we broke up, the pit rescue here put an ad with his picture on it.
And I realize I just started this post with a kvetch about m’weight, but you dangle a hot dog in front of me and I will follow. Plus, I’d been painting all day and somehow that makes you ravenous.
Michelangelo must have been a moose.
We had really good seats, which of course meant I was gonna spend the whole time thinking about getting hit with a ball. Ned was on a softball team for, like, 109 years, and assured me if a ball hurled at us he’d catch it. Unlike me, he was actually going to watch the sporting event and not stare at people and the concessions as I was doing.
My point is, it was already raining when we sat down, but it was getting obnoxious very fast. Finally, they pulled a tarp out, which I guess is the international sign for “We’re waiting till it stops raining.”
“Should we go?”
“No, let’s hang around a little longer. See if it clears up.”
I’m really starting to enjoy using my Amazon links for emphasis. There was another link right up there. There’s a part in my Tracy Anderson video where she says, “You’re really going to start to look forward to dance cardio.”
I been doin’ that bitch since March 2012. I still don’t look forward to dance cardio.
The point is, we went into the whatever it’s called. The concierge or the concert or the CONCOURSE. That’s what it’s called. I watched Ned eat a Philly cheese steak, which was sort of riveting, and then we went to the gift shop.
A thing no one else on god’s earth thought of. I ran into two people I know, and oh! Here’s the best part!
LouLou Gehrig was down the hall! You could see the offices from the gift shop, and there she was, just waiting to retrieve bats. They used to have Miss Babe Ruth get the bats, but she retired. You can imagine how calm and not at all obnoxious I was about my LouLou sighting.
Finally, it cleared up and we got to sit back down. A worker came over and wiped our seats for us, which is something you say every day.
I think we lost. I have no idea. But we did get soft serve in a plastic baseball hat.
Why didn’t I lose a single pound this week? No, why?
Other than that, I don’t have much to tell you. At one point I lost my mind trying to find a certain paint brush, that of course I found last night as I was putting everything back, but in the meantime I screamed down to the Sherwin and his Williams and got a brush to paint trim for $1.29. The whole painting weekend cost me $1.29.
When I returned from the paint store and opened my car door, the thing that usually happens happened, and that is that Steely Dan jumped in the car forthwith.
I was exhausted, so I just sat in the car to see what he would do.
Turns out, if you let SD in the car to hang, here’s where he ends up wanting to go. He’s like a Virgin Mary figurine. He’s like really fuzzy dice.
I guess fuzzy dice hang from your rearview mirror, don’t they? Do you have anything on your dashboard or hanging from your rearview mirror? In LA, you couldn’t swing a syringe of collagen without hitting someone with a goddamn lei on their mirror. I don’t know what that was but I dearly wanted everyone to lei off already.
I managed to capture on film everyone who was a cat last night. Iris mid-prowl.
All right, I’m going to work. You can’t stop me. Even if you try to throw June from the train.