1. My Hollywood Startlet Discord

   January 24, 2012 by Marissa

   I make no apolo­gies for my opin­ions and how cer­tain peo­ple grate on my nerves. I’m sure the feel­ing would be mutual given the oppor­tu­nity. And that makes me happy.

   Category All about me, asshattery, bawdy little monkey, I'm so mean, random blathering, video blogging | Tags: | 2 Comments

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2. Another Rissue moment

   January 6, 2012 by Marissa

   Category All about me, bawdy little monkey, freaky shit, guilty pleasure, I'm so mean, my mind is a scary place, randomosity, Rissues, That's Scary | Tags: | No Comments

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3. All I Want For Christmas

   December 21, 2011 by Marissa

   

   There is a price you pay when awak­en­ing at 4:30 AM on your day off. While wait­ing for the pot of cof­fee to brew, I sat down and turned on the telly. I had a choice between home shop­ping chan­nels, informer­cials or “Mar­ried …With Children.”

   First, let me just say the titles for the informer­cials are often mis­lead­ing. For instance, one says, “Bet­ter Sex.” I don’t really con­cern myself with that since I have NO sex, but that is not what I’m ask­ing Santa to bring me. Any­way, it is really a com­mer­cial for some ab belt that elec­trofies your abdom­i­nal area. Auto-active abdom­i­nal train­ing. No crunches! Great! But that’s not going to solve the smooshi­ness on the rest of your body. It wasn’t about sex at all!

   I opted to watch Al Bundy and his delight­fully fool­ish fam­ily. That didn’t help me escape com­mer­cials for goofy prod­ucts. A few months ago I shared the For­ever Lazy prod­uct with you. It is basi­cally a grown up footie pajama com­plete with escape hatches for the front and back. Easy access for when “nature calls.”

   Now, there is a com­pany ded­i­cated to send­ing the gift of paja­mas. All right! In another post I lamented over peo­ple wear­ing pjs in pub­lic. This will surely pro­mote not only wear­ing pajama bot­toms, but the head to tow HOODIE footie paja­mas! EGADS!

   This web­site car­ries a lot more than the footie pajama, but this ad par­tic­u­larly tar­gets the female recip­i­ent. Guys, let me give you a bit of advice, if you are at a loss for what to buy your loved one, then you need to spend a smidgen of time get­ting to know her first.

   

   Cute, right? The feet unzip! You can have it embroi­dered to per­son­al­ize it, too. The tail is detach­able, but there isn’t a drop seat for easy … well, good luck not get­ting that cute lit­tle hood with the ears on it in the toi­let. And guys, if you think some lovin’ will ensue once she puts this fuzzy wuzzy get up on, good luck get­ting into it. This is no For­ever Lazy with the EZ escape panels.

   Oh, you think it’ll be more fun if you could have one, too? Fear not. Looky! It’s manly and collegiate.

   

   Noth­ing says ‘come hither’ like a man in a grown up onsie!

   Don’t leave out the kids and pets. If one of you is going to look ridicu­lous, then the entire crew should have to suf­fer. Hey! it’s next year’s Christ­mas card!

   

    

    

    

    

   So, are ready to head over to the Paja­m­a­Gram web­site? Your palms are sweaty with excite­ment, right? Before you grab that credit card, you should know the price of these dar­ling hol­i­day jam­mies. For adults, it’s a mere $79.99. Infants and tod­dlers run $25.99 — $29.99, Kids $39.99! Oh, and let’s not for­get the mew-mew and pup! Those will cost you $19.99. Believe it or not, the XS-Large for pets are out of stock!

   Aren’t you glad you have me to keep you informed on these must-not-miss prod­ucts? Did you catch my 2011 As Seen On TV review? Did you catch my reviews from 2009? How about this one from May of 2009?

   My ques­tion to you is if you’ve ever made late night insom­nia induced crazy infomer­cial or web-surfing pur­chases and regret­ted it? How about a happy end­ing and you are so glad you picked up the phone and took advan­tage of the lim­ited time offers? Please share your story, will you?

   Category asshattery, freaky shit, I hate shopping, I'm so mean, toss your cookies, Uncategorized | Tags: | No Comments

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4. As Seen On TV 2011

   December 8, 2011 by Marissa

   Christ­mas always brings with it an onslaught of crappy ‘as seen on tv’ gifts to give to that per­son you don’t really know well or hate or … well, you just feel like throw­ing away money. When I was a kid K-Tel Records and Ronco ruled the air­waves on the lim­ited num­ber of tele­vi­sion chan­nels avail­able. Who remem­bers the ter­rific con­trap­tion that would turn soda bot­tles and jars into drink­ing glasses? How about the doo-hicky that helped you cre­ate gift bows? or the But­toneer? That thing basi­cally used plas­tic price tag things to attach but­tons to apparel. I just did a Google search on it and you can still pur­chase it. How­ever, it’s updated and more stream­lined. Sorry, I can’t find that bot­tle to drink­ing glass gad­get. Darn. Ooooh, did you have a Bedaz­zler? I did. Worked like a piece of dung! I gave it to my niece … hey! It wasn’t regifting.

   So, this year I went in search of the worst of the worst ideas in my hum­ble opin­ion. We can agree to dis­agree on them. A cou­ple of years ago I bravely reviewed (with­out really try­ing the prod­ucts) a hand­ful of items in a blog post called, What Not To Buy and another As Seen On TV Sat­ur­day Sick­ness. I can’t be 100% sure, but I pick on an exer­cise pro­gram that may or may not be a prod­uct that would even­tu­ally help me lose weight. I can admit when I’m wr … wrrrrrr… wrrroooo.. wrrrrrr … Hey! I hadn’t reviewed the prod­ucts first hand. Get off me.

   Here are the hand­ful of untested prod­ucts. I’m rat­ing them on the idi­otic nature of the infomer­cial. Some­times, no mat­ter how they spin it, it still comes across like a crap­tac­u­lar product.

   First up is the My BOOTY BELT! If you’re like me, you clicked this assum­ing it was an invi­ta­tion for a wild night of boudoir shenani­gans. Wrong! It is a piece of elas­tic with snap on it to help close the gap in your jeans because you have a badonkadonk like Jen­nifer Lopez. Sup­pos­edly, it will pre­vent the rest of the world from view­ing your coin slot. Or, as the case may be for some of us heftier types, the roll of Ben­jamins slot. Oh yeah. Woo!
   Sorry there isn’t a video avail­able for embed­ding on this one. You’ll have to click the link pro­vided to view the com­mer­cial. Per­son­ally, I think it cre­ates a ter­ri­ble look. The extra fab­ric gath­ers and I’m will­ing to bet it will even­tu­ally work its way down and under the thick strip of elas­tic. I don’t need to try it to know it’s a piece of doo-doo. Maybe you could pair it up with the BOOTY POP and go for broke with your big bad mam-a-jamma self at the club. Work it guuuurl.

    

   To keep with the but­tocks theme, I present to you the FANNY FARTING BANK. This booty prod­uct you’re glad has a vis­i­ble coin slot. It’s the gift that adds inter­est to your cof­fee table AND your bank account. *rimshot*… ewww aren’t you glad I didn’t use ‘rim’ in another use? Bwa­haha Oh yeah, all this humor and nary a shot of tequila has been consumed.

   Next on the list is the BLO AND GO. Yeah, I totally went there, too. Sorry, guys, this is a thing-a-ma-jig you put on the bath­room wall for hands free blow­ing … wait a minute! HAIR DRYING, you silly, cheeky mon­keys. Once again I must inform you that a youtube video isn’t avail­able for instant view­ing. But I can assure you that a REAL HOLLYWOOD hair styl­ist gives his tes­ti­mo­nial to the ter­ri­fan­tas­ti­cal qual­ity of the Blo and Go. Now that I take a gan­der at the appa­ra­tus with­out the hair dryer attached … Never mind. Onward.

   

   haha I don’t know if this prod­uct is use­less or not, but I love the facial expres­sion of the woman nosh­ing on the hard plas­tic pack­ag­ing of the coil light bulb.

   OK, this next one is so freakin’ asi­nine that it ALMOST leaves me speech­less. But you know me by now. I’ll find the words. I intro­duce to you, the SPIN GYM. Really? really. REAAAAAALLY! Pick up a damn $3.00 dumb­ell like a nor­mal per­son. Stop it with all the fool­ish inven­tions. do a push up off the wall and you achieve real results. GACK! Argh.  Another thing is,ladies, how many of you are going to break into using this stu­pid gyroscope-ish thing while wait­ing in line at the bank? Toss this one into the cor­ner with that Shake Weight.

   Category asshattery, bawdy little monkey, frivolity, I hate shopping, I'm so mean, money wise, what bunk | Tags: | No Comments

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5. Fresh and Clean

   December 7, 2011 by Marissa

   Remem­ber the other day when I posted about Charmin toi­let paper? I made a crack *tee hee* about them wip­ing up the com­pe­ti­tion with their adver­tis­ing geared toward peo­ple who get toi­let paper balls *hehe* stuck to their butts and what­nots.  Well, Quilted North­ern one upped them by direct­ing their prod­uct at women who just want to feel clean. Might I sug­gest installing a bidet? Ease up on the fiber?

   My father gave me advice a bazil­lion years ago about never skimp­ing on cer­tain items at the gro­cery store. Go cheap on nap­kins, flour, jelly, but never, ever under any cir­cum­stances go generic on toi­let paper because, “Noth­ing is worse than hav­ing a poke-through …” Dad was a col­or­ful and wise man.

    

   Category asshattery, bawdy little monkey, freaky shit, I'm so mean, Rissues, toss your cookies | Tags: | No Comments

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6. The Breakfast of Champions

   December 4, 2011 by Marissa

   Take a gan­der at this photo. At first, I con­sid­ered crop­ping it so it would fit bet­ter on the page. All that extra dead space seemed a waste. Then, I real­ized the impor­tance of the time stamp. 

   

   While at the laun­do­rama mind­ing my own dirty laun­dry, I spied with my lit­tle eye … a mom feed­ing her tod­dler neon orange Chee­tos and Sprite. Again, notice the time stamp. That is AM, by the way.

   Here’s a close view of the child’s morn­ing feast.

   

   Hold up! She has a bot­tle, Sprite and Chee­tos. Surely exactly what a grow­ing girl needs. My judg­men­tal ire came out and I was all ready to point fin­gers and blather on and on about how this is child abuse — some of you may jump on that. Then, I started think­ing about how it isn’t my place to cast dis­parag­ing remarks on this woman. For all I know, this mom and daugh­ter had been up for hours and 9 o’clock in the morn­ing is lunch time. Who the hell knows. I didn’t ask. Lord knows some of the things I’ve done as a par­ent has prob­a­bly left people’s jaws on the floor.

   Before you read the next part, let it be known we make real efforts to eat health­ier food with only an occa­sional dip in the “I can’t believe we’re eat­ing this crap” food category.

   Parental Con­fes­sion: As a par­ent of a once finicky eater, I admit to feed­ing my son what­ever it was he would eat regard­less of the time of day. His pri­mary school years were tricky. As a tod­dler, Man­cub HATED milk but loved cheese. Now he goes through about 4–5 gal­lons of the moo-juice per week. As I was say­ing, the boy was once quite picky. His food choices were based on fix­a­tions. He went through a spaghetti phase. Then, there was the tuna salad with­out bread … just a fork and tuna salad in a bowl while enjoy­ing the Arthur the Aard­vark on PBS. In the morn­ing. Des­per­ate attempts to ensure my kidlette was nour­ished. After all, we’d peri­od­i­cally have break­fast for din­ner because all we had in the fridge were veg­gies and eggs. Hel­looooo omelet! And, here is where you can all throw your nutri­tion books at me and call me a fool­ish mom … Man­cub has eaten Ramen noo­dles for break­fast. Merely feed­ing those to him AT ALL may get your feath­ers ruf­fled. As I said, it was often a strug­gle to get him to eat any­thing before going off to school.

   Back to the photo. It’s not so much that Chee­tos are not a break­fast food. Tech­ni­cally, I don’t think they can be con­sid­ered food at all … but I digress. What point am I try­ing to make here? Oh yeah, par­ent­ing isn’t easy and feed­ing your kids is often a real bat­tle between what you know is best for them and what they will eat. You know the darling’s tummy is rum­bling. So, what do you do? Ide­ally, feed them at home. Prefer­ably a nutri­tious meal. How­ever, if you’re in a jam for what­ever rea­son … and kiddo is whin­ing … you give them any­thing to pre­vent a total melt down. At least she wasn’t eat­ing M&Ms (also avail­able in the vend­ing machine) and wash­ing them down with Sprite.

   Category America the Beautiful, asshattery, Dirty Laundry, I'm so mean, laundry days, Rissues, Stupid girl, That's Life, That's Scary, toss your cookies | Tags: | No Comments

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7. Things I cannot understand

   October 22, 2011 by Marissa

   My last post focused on an expe­ri­ence at the laun­dro­mat.  The rare occa­sion that I find myself alone, I turned to the crane machine and won a prize. Boo. Yah.

   There is usu­ally a point when some­one dashes in and out stay­ing only long enough to throw clothes in the washer. Appar­ently, it is just too bor­ing for them to sit and wait the 26 min­utes it takes for the load to slosh about in the wash drum. After all, not every one can amuse them­selves with a Baby Pop­eye dressed in a Hal­loween pump­kin costume.

   This last time and the time before it, I encoun­tered two women who seemed con­fused about proper attire. I mean, if every­one accepted what is proper we wouldn’t have sites like Peo­ple of Wal­Mart. If you click that link, plan on being sucked in for a great amount of time. Who needs the side shows at the cir­cus when a Wal-Mart is avail­able to all.

   OK, back to the sub­ject at hand. Can you tell I’m writ­ing with­out hav­ing a full dose of caffeine??

   It has become my sus­pi­cion thanks to the charm­ing patrons of the laun­dro­mat I use that bed­ding is only to be laun­dered whilst don­ning paja­mas.

   See exhibit A and B

   

    

   

   Accept my apol­ogy for the sec­ond photo being a bit fuzzy and over­ex­posed. Being stealthy isn’t my strong suit. Instead of slip­pers like the woman in the first photo, this pajama bot­tom wear­ing god­dess of the triple load is sport­ing flip flops. For what it is worth, it was a mere 58 degrees that day. The pat­tern on the pjs was flow­ers. Charm­ing, no?

   Many years ago it both­ered my father when it became accept­able for women and men alike to wear sweat pants any­where but the gym. Guys seemed to believe going com­mando was the way to go when wear­ing their Jamz or sweats. Women couldn’t accept that they were the next size up. That annoyed Dad beyond belief. Then, the inven­tion of Lycra stretch pants arrived. OY! I dis­tinctly recall hear­ing him say, “Just because it stretches to fit doesn’t mean they should wear it.” With the com­fort and ease of prop­erly fit­ting yoga pants, I am guilty of wear­ing them to the laun­dro­mat or gro­cery store. It does cross my mind that I might very well find myself on the front page of Peo­ple of Wal-Mart or some Glam­our Don’t page. If Dad was alive today, I won­der how he’d feel about chunky girls sport­ing low rise, butt crack reveal­ing, muf­fin top induc­ing jeans. That’s for an entirely dif­fer­ent post. And believe me, if my skills of snap­ping pho­tos on the sly increases, I WILL share.

   Oh, it’s nec­es­sary for me to say that I am grate­ful both women were fully cov­ered. On the oppo­site end of the spec­trum are the women who let far too much hang out. Skirts that are a mere cen­time­ter below the wom­anly parts are just … ugh. And the shorty shorts that creep up and cause the wearer to yank on them as they walk… ugh & argh!!

   Do I have pho­to­graphic evi­dence of what I speak of? Naturally!

    

   

   Those delight­ful crea­tures were emerg­ing from the local Hal­loween store. They seemed con­fused as to wear they parked their car in the park­ing lot hold­ing about eight vehi­cles … or they were hop­ing for a ride. Of some sort.

   So, are you like my dad and me? Does it bother you when peo­ple wear paja­mas in pub­lic? How about slip­pers, too?
   

   ps. Moms who jump in the car to drop the kids in the car­pool lane are exempt from any fin­ger point­ing. But isn’t it typ­i­cal that for some unfore­seen rea­son you must get out of the car and dash into the school when you’re still wear­ing your I <3 choco­late pj bottoms?

   Category I'm so mean, photo shop, Rissues, That's Scary, toss your cookies, what bunk | Tags: | 4 Comments

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8. Watching the world go by

   August 20, 2011 by Marissa

   Whilst on my way to work today … just doot doot doot­ing along  … it dawned on me that I hadn’t checked text mes­sages on my phone. When I looked quickly, there was, indeed, a mes­sage from my gen­eral man­ager inform­ing me that the mall was par­tially with­out power and our store was included in the out­age. Oh joy! ComEd was work­ing on it but had no idea where the issue occurred or when they would be able to rem­edy the situation.

   Oy to the vey!

   With cus­tomers likely to be arriv­ing, I had to wo-man the gate to let them know that it wasn’t a store issue but a mall/ComEd issue. With good for­tune, GM was able to access our appoint­ment book to resched­ule for later in the week. Hoo-ray! Still, there are walk-ins etc… Our sis­ter brand GM was kind enough to let us occupy one of their doc­tor lanes to get our patients who were not reached to still get their eye exams, etc… I love it when coop­er­a­tion makes for an eas­ier transition. 

   The doc­tor side of the mis­for­tune was taken care of, but with­out power your’s truly can­not pro­duce qual­ity eye­wear. With the com­pany credit card in hand, I went shop­ping for nec­es­sary sup­plies. Oh what JOY to be at Wal-Mart on a Sat­ur­day mid­day. With a rum­bling in my tummy, I stopped by Sub­way (with my own cash, mind you) for lunch and took it back to the mall so I’d be closer to the action if the power was revived. The action was not in the store, but in the food court peo­ple watching.

   Oh dear Lord! When you are really bored and your eyes are wide open there is a cor­nu­copia of freak show to gaze upon.

   Here are some of the obser­va­tions made in the one hour period that I sat in amaze­ment and wonder:

   • Poo­dle perms are alive and well the Kanka­kee area. They are often accen­tu­ated by dra­mat­i­cally curled under blunt cut bangs. You know the style. It appears that the roller is still in the hair.
   • Chil­dren of food court pro­pri­etors are gym­nasts. Their spe­cialty? Using the back of an iron bench in lieu of a bal­ance beam. Oopsy daisy! It sure hurts when you slip and fall, doesn’t it? Thank good­ness the foun­tains had been filled in with plants long ago. They might have prac­tice syn­chro­nized swim­ming or water ballet.
   • Today’s videos/music sucks ass. Auto­tune is the devil as demon­strated by some dread­ful per­for­mance on the big screens by T-Pain ft. Chris Brown. The singing is so mud­dled by the auto­tune (high pitch and through­out) that I couldn’t fig­ure out one syl­la­ble. The sav­ing grace was WEAPON OF CHOICE com­ing on and see­ing Christo­pher Walken danc­ing about.
   • Along the video tunage thought: Some goon named Jason Derulo aurally defe­cates upon Harry Belaphonte’s “Banana Boat Song” in his shit-tastic, heav­ily sam­pled song enti­tled “Don’t Want To Go Home.” Jason, I want you to go far, far away.
   • Mid­dle aged men with giant pot bel­lies can’t come to terms with the fact that their favorite KISS tshirt doesn’t come in the XXXL size required to suit their guts.
   • Many of today’s teen age girls don’t stride or walk. The tip side to side in a for­ward motion. It’s nearly penguin-esque. It’s a curi­ous sight.
   • Yes, Lycra stretches. Test­ing it’s strength is also a com­mon occur­rence. ::shudder::
   • Facial hair on most men looks hor­rific. Groom­ing the chin nest isn’t fixed by spray­ing Axe body spray. Maybe the Old Spice guy should touch on that in his next ad.
   • Shorts are for very few peo­ple. Young girls who are fix­ated on the size tag should be more con­cerned with the amount of short mate­r­ial inch­ing upward into their birth and or anal canal. When one must stop every 5 or 6 steps to remove the short from the booty, it’s time to admit that you need a big­ger size or just skip the shorty shorts alto­gether. My vote is on the latter.

   There you have it. My hour of mall food court obser­va­tions. I wish I could make a liv­ing peo­ple watching.

   Category America the Beautiful, bawdy little monkey, freaky shit, I'm so mean, Insane in the membrane, Rissues, That's Scary, toss your cookies, Uncategorized | Tags: | No Comments

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9. “I want to be alone…”

   May 1, 2011 by Marissa

   In her husky accent Greta Garbo declared, “I want to be alone.” After exten­sive (Wikipedia) research because I had always heard she was mis­quoted, I found this quote which best sums up how I feel when it comes to my time away from work.

   “I never said, ‘I want to be alone.’ I only said, ‘I want to be let alone.’ There is all the dif­fer­ence.
   

   “You can­not have a vaca­tion with­out peace and you can­not have peace unless left alone.“
   

   I put in my time 100% at ye olde grind. My pay comes hourly and not salary. Even if I was paid salary that doesn’t take away from the fact that time at home with my son or whomever else I choose to dally is my own. It’s not as if my role is so vital that my deci­sions will make or break a multi-billion dol­lar deal. I don’t need to be needed 24/7 to be assured that I’m appre­ci­ated in the work place. I trust that those who are on the clock will make deci­sions in the moment to get through the day. In the moment choices have to be made whether or not they are what I would have done in the same cir­cum­stance. Hun­dreds of skilled peo­ple are just a phone call away.  Peo­ple who are, at that point in time, being paid for their consult.

   I’m vent­ing. Yes, that is what it is and now I can move on with my day off. What peo­ple don’t under­stand about me is that it takes tremen­dous effort for me to relax. Emp­ty­ing my mind requires just as much effort men­tally as rock climb­ing requires physically.

   When I awaken in the mid­dle of the night because I had 24 ounces of water forty five min­utes before bed­time, going back to sleep is ardu­ous. My mind clicks on to what I need to accom­plish in the day; what con­ver­sa­tions need to be had.

   It is irri­tat­ing to an infi­nite degree.

   With that in mind, yesterday’s glo­ri­ous sun­shine and silly girl lit­er­a­ture helped take me away like the Cal­gon bath of the ‘70s.

   After a spell out­doors, I came back in to get my ear buds so I could fur­ther tune out the world. My son, who appar­ently knows me and my sit­u­a­tion very well, asked, “are you able to relax? Is work leav­ing you alone now?” He’d heard me on the phone ear­lier. He knew by my expres­sion that I had not escaped duty. It wasn’t any­thing imper­a­tive. Surely with a lit­tle patience the ques­tion would have answered itself.

   

   I enjoy com­pany. On my terms. Do I want to be alone?

   No, just leave me alone … unless you’re bring­ing a cheeky movie and margaritas.

   Category All about me, coworkers, For The Greater Good, I'm so mean, Insane in the membrane, phone calls, random blathering, silence is golden, take a look at me now, That's Life, what bunk, What's Inside Marissa's Head, work | Tags: | No Comments

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10. Christina Aguilera botches National Anthem

    February 6, 2011 by Marissa

    OH wait! That’s an SNL par­ody. Sorry. Here’s Christina Aguil­era singing the National Anthem at the 2011 Super Bowl OH wow! It’s so hard to tell the dif­fer­ence. Way to go, Xtina. You really knocked it out of the park. Hell of a way to make us proud. I know it’s a new tune and few know the lyrics.

    PS. You sounded like you were tak­ing a dump while you took a dump on America’s National Anthem.

    Category America the Beautiful, I'm so mean, Music has the answer, what bunk | Tags: | 1 Comment

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