The 98% humorous musings of M. Lizabeth Currain

Category: Blame it on the alcohol

Meaghan’s Favorite Things

It’s Saturday night and I’m sitting in my apartment drinkin’ some beer and watchin’ Netflix, waiting for this bitch Irene to touch down in New York. I’ve got cookies, beer, and peanut butter to tide me over until the storm passes. I also got pizza. I am set. What’s that you say? None of that is healthy? Um, duh. I (I hear thunder!!! Sounds like Irene is close) am trapped in my apartment during a storm: all bets are off. This weekend doesn’t count in terms of any sort of dieting. Diet starts Monday!



As for my plan of texting available gentlemen in evacuation zones…well, that plan fell to shit. Apparently Bed-Stuy in a Hurricane doesn’t sound appealing to people. Well, their loss. We could have gotten drunk and eaten cookies while watching Netflix. Or we could’ve skipped all that and gone straight for the “adult entertainment”, if you get what I’m saying. Ha! What is wrong with these guys?

Anyways, I should probably get to the meat of this post (since there’s not meat in my apartment!) and introduce a new weekly feature. I figure that’s what the weekend is for. So far we’ve got the “This Week in Searches” on Fridays and “Vintage Crush” on Sundays. This brings us to Saturdays; favorite things! I am on my way to being as influential as Oprah…well, probably Tyra, but that’s neither here nor there. Now, some of these favorite things are probably going to be unusual, so that’s something to look forward to or not…depends on how you look at things.

On to the first of many of my favorite things: Bobby Hill squealing like a girl!

Bobby Hill is basically my spirit animal. He’s a little off, loves comedy, thinks he’s awesome, and wants to be special. Those are all things that I can relate to! I will admit that I’ve watched the above clip close to 50 times. I want to be as excited about something as Bobby is about growing roses.

He’s just so adorable. Also, someone needs to put me in touch with Mike Judge because I have a really amazing idea for a spin-off of King of the Hill revolving around Bobby. Basically, Bobby would be in his twenties, in either Chicago or NY trying to become successful doing improv comedy. UGH! It’s SO PERFECT.

Also, I’m so in love with the image of Bobby squealing, I’m thinking of getting it as a tattoo. Although, I’m pretty much a chicken and very fickle so I can’t imagine having anything permanent on my body…but if I did…it would definitely be this:


Obviously, I would be the coolest person ever if I got this as a tattoo.


See you all tomorrow! If I’m still alive and have power.

Oh, dear me!

I shouldn’t go to happy hour. Three margaritas and I am done for!

Today was a funny day…especially with this OkCupid message I received:

“All my life I’ve been looking
To meet someone like you
Beautiful, smart and unique
I know this much is true
You’re a perfect ten
Someone l’d like to know
So please send me a reply
And on a fun date we’ll go
Maybe we’ll find in each other
What we both desire
But we won’t know til we take the first step

The best part is…he apparently has a joint profile with his ventriloquist dummy! I wish I were kidding! I wish I could post a picture of him and his dummy “Philo”, but I can’t, because that would be mean. However, this is sort of what his dummy looks like:


A what now?!


In his profile, his dummy makes a “no fat chicks” joke! We are only a 18% match and a 34% friend match! This does not bode well for our future. Also, the profile is a shared profile for this kid and his dummy. Which is realllllllllyyyyyy awkward. I mean, what if I were to go on a date with him? Who would be the 3rd wheel? Me or Philo?

In one of his pictures on his profile, the actual human being is wearing a mock-neck:

It’s even this color!


and a blazer while posing with his dummy! In another picture, he and his dummy have the same striped polo shirt on. It’s is frightening.

I wish I could post a picture of this kid. Honestly, he looks like someone who would murder me on our first date and turn my corpse into a meat puppet.

Maybe it’s time to distance myself from OkCupid.

Subway Platform Confessions


I think HBO needs to revamp their Taxicab Confessions show; they can have it take place on the subway platform late at night and just wait for drunk people to spill their guts. Hey HBO, do you have any openings in the development department? I’m available and chock full of ideas!

After my date and I parted ways in the subway on Friday evening (Saturday morning, I guess), I was waiting for the train, about to put my earbuds in, when a gentleman approached me. He was youngish–I later found out he was 24–drunk, and not dressed very well. I mean he was wearing ill fitting jeans, a black t-shirt with an open, long sleeved white, collared shirt, and ratty-ass boat shoes. There is nothing worse that ratty boat shoes with ill-fitting, light colored jeans. Do these guys not watch television or look in a mirror? He was white and tall. Very plain Jane.

He started talking to me about about his own failed trainmance (my words, not his! Although, lets make it happen people!). Apparently he had started talking to a girl while waiting for the train; my guess is that she was humoring him, much like I was doing; and when the train came, they got on separate cars. Never a good idea. Always get on the car they are getting on. That’s like Trainmance 101. In a last minute surge of boldness he decided to switch cars, but by the time he made it off one, the doors were closing on the other. He said something about how they put their hands up to the glass and looked at each other as the train pulled away. I threw up in my mouth a little bit. I told him it sounded a lot like the movie Sliding Doors. I’m not sure he understood what I was talking about.

We introduced ourselves, let’s say his name was Ace. I asked Ace if he was from Massachusetts because of his boat shoes. He had sort of a sloppy, WASP look to him. Turns out he is from Chicago. I hope Ace isn’t representative of the men in Chicago, just sayin’. Apparently he’s a special education teacher for Teach for America. It’s shocking to me how they will let anyone teach special education. I remember when I applied for the NYC Teaching Fellows four years ago they said that I would be qualified to teach kindergarten and special education. For some reason, I would want someone with more than a Bachelor’s in Fashion Design interacting with my special needs child every day. Maybe that’s just me. I certainly wouldn’t trust, boat shoes-sliding doors-drunk-Ace to teach my special needs kid. He could barely dress himself to go out on a Friday night! That does not bode well for his competence in the classroom.

He asked me if I had a boyfriend. He told me that I looked like the kind of girl that would have four boyfriends; to which I said “no”. Then he said three, then two, then one…I had to break it to him that sadly no, I wasn’t hoarding boyfriends. I kind of wonder what part of me gives off the vibe that I amass boyfriends like I do shoes. Maybe it’s my eyeliner. He asked me what train stop was mine and when I told him, he said, “no one’s getting murdered tonight”.  I’ll give Ace credit for that one, it made me laugh. Mainly because he sort of looked like he might have experience “forget-me-nowing” girls in bars.

We both got on the train and he sat next to me. Ace asked me if I was inviting him back to my place. I had to let him down gently. He said, “that’s too bad, you’ll never get to kiss these lips”. I replied, “You’ll never get to kiss mine and mine are way better”.  He said I was right and that it made him sad. That Ace was a real charmer. He got off at the stop before me and we said our goodbyes.

Oh Ace, if only you had looked like this


Oh, Jon Kortajarena, I have never wanted to be a straw so bad in. my. life.


then you could have come home with me.

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