L-O-V-E & H-A-T-E

Peach LOVES

1. Banana Pudding
2. Cigarettes
3. Jim Beam
4. Cuss words (or curse words for more refined readers)
5. Toddlers in glasses
6. Charlie Sheen

Peach HATES

1. Working
2. W Magazine
3. Julia Roberts
4. Entertainment Tonight
5. Jell-O
6. Lying douchebag coworkers like our new CFO who looks like an apple on two toothpicks--I'm calling you out bitch...you and your entire family better move to another city you big fat asshole! Don't be surprised if that fucking blue mini van is keyed to bits and you have to ride on rims b/c of your flat tires you stretch-pants wearing Prince Valiant hair-having whore

Super Perv Strikes!

Lately we've been inundated with some fairly repugnant stories about our great educators molesting students, abusive coaches, attempted pick-ups in friendly neighborhoods, and even a local county supervisor with two sex charges against a minor.

Now there's another--possibly more insidious--force at work in our universe:

Super Pervy Businessman!


Even in this day and age, when everyone (unless you work from home, ha) is well aware of sexual harrassment, the pervy man still lurks among us.

Not necesarily the annoying guy in the cube next to you, or your condescending boss who ogles your bits and pieces, this perv strikes at seemingly innocuous meetings and gatherings of the public. Take today for instance--PRSA luncheon, Sheraton Hotel. A somewhat effeminate Genworth employee plants himself at the table and begins inappropriately touching my guest and fellow nonprofit worker!

First came the leering introduction, followed by sitting far too close to said guest. Then came leg slapping for emphasis--HER leg! The finale: the wormy white arm possessively draped over the back of her chair. When guest made it clear she was not interested in the Super Perv, he moved on to the girl on other side of him. What followed truly made me and the other innocent luncheon goers ill:

This is barely an exaggeration. If I weren't three years behind technology, I would have taken a picture with my camera phone. Knee squeezing, endless back rubbing (including the off-limits LOWER back), even HAIR rubbing took the focus from our delightful guest speaker and placed it squarely on the nauseating deviant weirdo instead.

I only hope the victim--who, admittedly seemed to enjoy it--went straight to the police station and was swabbed from head to toe.

WHY is this happening? Are dates and human contact so hard to come by that pervs must resort to fulfilling their sick desires at breakfast meetings and luncheons? Isn't that what the fucking internet is for?? I can't rest until justice is served.

"I'll be fighting for the right to eat my damn chicken and green beans in peace without being massaged by freaky pervs haunting business gatherings. Fair is fair!"

Freebie Blind Item

WHICH favored politician's wacky ways are drawing more fire than usual with rumors swirling surrounding the much-debated leader's alleged growing senility and dementia? Most of the appointed cabinet has been fired and decisions are becoming increasingly bizarre. Not to mention the married spitfire's increasingly obvious love of younger women--especially blondes...

Cabin Fever/Return of Jabba

"More peanut butter eggs"

No, it's not the next Star Wars installment or a sci-fi thriller...it's how I spent the weekend of gloom and rain. Why no posting? I couldn't possibly tear myself from the bag of Easter candy or the giant bottle of cheap white wine and stop watching tv to come write anything. My slug tail can only move so fast y'all.

Does anyone know how good the Disney Channel is? I highly recommend "Suite Life of Zack and Cody" and "That's So Raven." Raven Simone is one underrated actress!!

I hear the shouts of "Emmy! Emmy! Emmy!"

Raven, Eddie, and Chelsea have taught me A LOT of life lessons, such as how to dress up as an old lady and pretend to be your mom when you don't want your real mom to meet your teacher, dressing up like a psychic for a tv hotline for your summer job and predicting that your crush will fall in love with you when he calls the hotline, dressing up like a singing bear at a pizza joint to spy on your crush, dressing up like a famous gymnast to impress your crush--basically a lot of dressing up to avoid situations, spy, deceive, etc. and then working it out. So, tomorrow I will look like this at work:

Who would fuck with Stuart Smalley? In this costume, I can use my powers of psychoanalysis and help my coworkers with issues. Or there's this...

"Back off bitches...I have a hair appointment and I'll be gone the rest of the day."

Thanks for the tips Raven! Appresh!

Blind Items!

WHICH cabbage-patch kid faced nonprofit president is a homosexual male secretly in love with his very attractive gay human resources manager? Though they're both in serious relationships, they enjoy ousting people they don't like, shopping for parties during work hours, rifling through confidential files at will, and mis-managing the organization. In fact, rumors have it the agency will soon be absorbed by bigger fish.
*i know this particular blind item is not objective. oh well!

WHICH local shiny-named doyenne known for her outre style was allegedly shot by a one-night stand several decades ago when he showed up in a rage at her house? Though she and her husband were (and are) happily married, Mrs. Richmond supposedly enjoyed nights out with another society-gal friend at a shady local watering hole known as a place to pick up young toughs and ne'er do wells...

WHAT male half of a newly-moneyed couple supposedly enjoys leather and bondage with young bucks in his remote castle? His wife, a former personal trainer, seems okay as long as one of the not-so-young bucks (also with a name of his own as well as a magazine column) still does her hair...

If Easter is About Rebirth, Can I Have New Parents?

"Dear Invisible Diary,
Today I realized how much I need a pen and paper."

If JC rolled out of the tomb today and stopped by my parents' house, he would find his holiday reduced to an episode of "Married with Children" starring my parents. I am thoroughly enjoying how each holiday dissolves into speaking in shrill tones and the inability to communicate using anything other than expletives or mumbled one-word answers. I was naive enough to think by this age we would be enjoying each others' company--how wrong I was!

Even an appearance by the Easter Kitty didn't help.

"My message to you is...love one another...KIDDING! It's get this fucking hat off!"

I know it's terrible and I am the kind of over-indulged spoiled daughter every hardworking mother and father would like to give back to the cabbage patch. But let it be a word of caution to anyone thinking of marrying someone who makes you miserable!

Not dead, just resting....

Still alive, for all three of you reading this! So what happened in Richmond this weekend? The 400th annual running of the Strawberry Hill Races at Colonial Downs! Here's a recap in two words:
BO RING

Weather was great, my outfit was lame, but even more lame was the company I had to roll with. Talk about high school! Instead of watching the races or competing in the best plot contest (this year's theme something about Celts and Kilts or something), we entered the"who is the thinnest" contest, the "who attracts more boys" contest, and the "who can talk the most shit about everyone" contest. Sadly, I didn't win anything! My parting gift was a pink-pig sunburn, complete with burned scalp and Clan of the Cave Bear hair that fried along with the outer layer of my epidermis. The winner got this:

Also known as the average Strawberry Hill attendant. Congratulations winners! Please someone remind me of this next April when I'm debating on spending the whole day with boring, self obsessed, insecure assholes.


There was also a little Easter Parade down Monument this weekend. Big deal for the bow-tie and Lilly Pulitzer set.

"What do you mean I can't park my beamer there? WALK? NO FUCKING WAY!!!"

Bitches

"You do everything...and I'll take the credit, mkay? My husband has to think I'm doing something besides my personal trainer."

I've returned home from the placewhichmustnotbenamed at ELEVEN FUCKING PM. How does this happen? Well, begin with a "committee meeting" for a special event at 7 p.m., throw in some very special community-minded BITCHES and endless discussion about minute details and holier-than-thou instruction and commands, drink several glasses of cheap shiraz, and drive home with giant open bottle between legs to tiny smelly apartment. A very rewarding lifestyle, n'est-ce pas?

Here are the top ten reasons to NEVER work for a nonprofit organization:

1. The caste system still exists--and you're at the bottom
2. You could be the Rachel Ray of ramen noodles
3. Volunteer retention means ass-kissing, rim-jobbing, tongue-biting, and hand-holding
4. You make NO money yet ask for it every day in true "alms for the poor" style
5. Enjoy multi-tasking--you'll be working the jobs of three people!
6. You have no budget, no resources, and people are idiots
7. Natural disasters always win
8. A work wardrobe from Old Navy does not win respect with corporate contacts
9. You better like your car b/c you'll be driving it the next 15 years
10. Dating? Only if you like women or gay men.
    

"I'm not even 30-years-old yet...

aren't you jealous?"

So back to the bitches--the part I enjoy the most is licking the boots of the well-heeled, which as my boss tells me is a requirement for the job. The delight of cowtowing to some cunt-lick assholes who married well is a genuine joy...anything for the cause! And I love being reminded that you couldn't possibly attend meetings or make phone calls b/c you have tennis matches to play and kids to care for. Even though you have husbands, babysitters, nannies, friends, parents, etc. I know staring at Mary Stuart and Hunter while they shovel mashed peas into their mouths or chew on legos is much more important than helping the charity you care for so much. I appreciate your dedication and input!

"Welcome to my apartment...omigod they finally put the window in!

Today is the happiest day of my life."

Double Your Pleasure

See Bush Twins Jenna and Barbara run here

Mommy Blogs!

"Isn't he sweet...I just posted about his sticky poop and how it took me three hours to breastfeed today. Fascinating, right?"

Nothing deserves a bigger Mr. Yuck sticker denoting it as poison than MOMMY BLOGS! As if I don't hear about your kids enough I am now directed to page after page of pre-natal stories, in-utero stories, delivery tales of ripping genitalia, post-partum details of husband/wife relations, and all with PICTURES! Stop it. Just stop it. We get the holiday letters, the emails, the phone calls with Junior screaming in the background or the vague "mmm hmmm" in response to every statement that proves you are NOT listening and only fantasizing about getting off the phone to go book another mommy and me class, and the endless attitude that we--the single nation (or at least the childless nation)--aren't doing enough to enable overpopulation, the greenhouse effect, and the next generation of video-gaming diabetic fatties.

"Fuck you, Mommy, I said I wanted the new PSP you asshole...not this red boomerang"

Monument Avenue 10K

The Bush Twins Cross Finish Line!
Jenna and Barbara worked hard to make their six miles. They were so happy to be done! Afterward, we all went out in the Fan--it was great. Too bad I don't have pictures of that.

"omigod jenna those nigerians were like so fast..."

"gawd i KNOW barbara...next year let's have secret service shoot them"

Saturday marked the big race--the Monument Avenue 10k drew 20,000 people to run, walk, and gawk at each other in their workout clothes. This being Richmond(that's right bitches I hardcore WALKED it), I saw several people from high school, several from grade school, several from work, and several I hoped I would never see. The fun begins when you can log in, view all the individual run/walk pics, and laugh your days at work away!

Training Headquarters

http://www.flickr.com/photos/jason_coleman/10175594/in/photostream/