The 98% humorous musings of M. Lizabeth Currain

Tag: cray-cray

This Is What $75K Looks Like

In case any of you were ever wondering what $75,000 (plus interest!) looks like or what it buys you, let me enlighten you.


Now, I don’t want to sound entitled, but I think  for $75k they should have at least included a frame. So not only did I spend almost a $100 grand on a piece of paper that looks like it was made by students in the Graphic Design program, I now have to spend an extra $20 for a frame?  Seriously, look at this piece of shit. I am pretty sure that is a sticker at the top under the name of the school I went to. A STICKER. And what font is that even? Times New Roman? I’m surprised they didn’t print it in Wing Dings.

And let’s not even get into the fact that Forbes named Library Science THE WORST MASTER’S DEGREE TO GET. And Pratt couldn’t even make up for that fact by printing it on a piece of paper larger than your standard 8.5″ by 11″.

And just for fun, I dug up my Diploma from undergrad and did a little comparison.

Look at how much bigger that thing is! And look at the delicate scribbles around the name of the university, which may I point out is IN LATIN. In fact, the whole god damn thing is in Latin, except for my fucking name. And for four years, it was roughly the same price when you factor in scholarships and various other things I did to get my tuition down (blow jobs, hand jobs, etc.). And! All that stuff was embossed! EMBOSSED. They had better sense than to use a fucking sticker.

So let me break this down for you in case you still aren’t getting it. $75,000 will get you an 8.5″ by 11″, MS Paint, Lisa Frank sticker wearing, Wing Ding, unframed piece OF BULLSHIT THAT WON’T GET YOU A JOB THAT WILL ALLOW YOU TO PAY BACK YOUR STUDENT LOANS BEFORE YOU DIE.

Blame it on the…

bad decision making. Depending on how old you are, you either thought I was going to say “alcohol”

(editor’s note: I think that whole video can be blamed on the alcohol. I mean, Ron Howard? Really? And while we are at it, I am blaming Jamie Foxx’s “singing career” on the alcohol too. Shit is whack. Who let this happen? But I do love T-pain, which makes it hard to hate the song, dammit!)

or “rain”.

(editor’s note: Honestly, Milli Vanilli was ahead of their time. What they did wasn’t much different from auto-tune. R.I.P Rob Pilatus. Also; I like using editor’s notes because they make feel important.)

Back to the matter at hand. There have been times; recent times; when I wish that I could blame the activities I was engaging in, on some sort of behavior altering substance–but I can’t. There may have been a (few) times where I have answered personal ads on Craigslist. Sad, I know. I’ll save the gory details for some other shame cleansing blog post; I’m not sure how much dignity will be left after this one; so stay tuned! I also may have joined an internet dating site–or two–and possibly met up with someone from one of them and then proceeded to make out with them in their apartment. Again, another post dear readers, another post. But the most horrific offense of them all happened about a month or so back. At a work function. Do you see where this is going?

So in early October, the organization that I work for, threw a staff appreciation party…on a boat…with an open bar. Now it’s not an exaggeration to say that the people that I work with cut loose–especially if there is an open bar. I’ve seen many a disgraceful thing happen at these parties. I only had a couple of beers, because I know better than to get all wild and crazy at a work party. Or so I thought. I was dancing; I honestly wish I could say that was the worst of it; but it’s not. At one point I went down to the bar to get another drink, maybe my 3rd Bud Light (keepin’ it classy!) and ran into a guy from another store that I had met last year at one of our fundraisers. This was near the end of the night, so I am just going to cut to the gory details and say that we ended up making out in the parking lot of  the boat dock, with other employees watching. I mean, the guy I was making out with was wearing a shirt/jacket like this:


I wish I was kidding, I really do.

However, in my own defense, I didn’t agree to make out with him until he took off the shirt/jacket thing. I have some standards. I actually put up a pretty good fight too–he thought it looked cool. And I think we all know, that it didn’t. That thing was a big F.A.I.L, if I have ever seen one. So finally, he came to his senses and realized what a prime piece of real estate I am and took off the crumby jacket. This makes me realize that I was not drunk, because if I was, I wouldn’t have cared about that stupid jacket. But I did care…that was the part of me that was saying, “hey sister, this is a bad idea, but if you must, at least make him take that off, he looks like a broke down Chris Tucker in Rush Hour 2.”

He had the nerve to ask, “So are we going back to your place or mine?” Um, excuse me? I don’t be thinking so. I firmly told him that he was going to his place, ALONE. I then, however, felt compelled to put my number in his phone. This learning curve is a hard one for me to get around. So later that night–after the work shindig, I kept the party going with a few coworkers–he texts me to ask if I want to hang out the next day. I had the day off, so I figured, “why not?” and plus I still thought I was hot shit for making out with someone (ugh, it had been a while! Give a girl a break!). If I had known, what I was going to be walking in to, I never would have said yes.

It looked a little something like this:


track jacket? check!

Combined with:



Terrible sungless? Check! Puff Daddy swagger...check and mate.

It was AWFUL. The moment I saw him, I knew that this was going to be one of the most painful experiences ever. The lenses of his sunglasses were two different colors. There are just some things, that are never okay. Thinking about it now still upsets me.

So, we decided to see the movie Whip It; about the roller derby. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be. Although, it would have been better if I wasn’t with someone who was complaining the whole time about the people sitting behind us, not doing anything. And then he put his head on my shoulder. NOT IN TO IT. And it wasn’t like I was inviting it. I was practically sitting in another chair.

Afterwards, we went to get something to eat. We went to a taco place and he was really obnoxious and rude to the people behind the counter…which I can’t stand. And it took him forever to figure out what he wanted and was being an total spaz about it. When we sat down to eat, he started unloading all this personal information. It was a first date. I don’t need to know about your ex-girlfriend and how she dumped you because you didn’t want to marry her and now you have to live with roommates that you don’t like because they are gay and use your dishes. Then when two police officers came in, he said, “I was this close to taking the police officers test. Can you imagine me as a fucking cop?” He said it loud enough for them to hear. And then he said it again. I wanted to die. There are certain things you say in public when cops are around and certain things that you don’t. I would file “fucking cop” under the “Don’t” section. And he said that he collects knives and swords. And that he has the sword from the movie Blade that Wesley Snipes used. ::shudder:: Then on the way to the train we passed a Dunkin Donuts and he said, “You probably don’t want to hear my theory on Dunkin Donuts” and I was like, “Um, not really.” I mean, that is what I said…and he proceeded to tell me! So everyone out there, reading this. I went on a date with someone whose theory on Dunkin Donuts is this: “They are all owned by middle easterners and they are trying to poison America.” If a train had been approaching at that moment, I probably would have pushed him in front of it–that is one of the most atrocious and stupid things I have ever had to listen to.

The train ride home was painful because all he was doing was complaining about the train and trying to touch my knee. I was trying to debate whether or not it would be worth it to get off at the wrong stop and walk all the way back to my apartment. So about an hour after I got home, he sent me a text message saying, “Why’d you let me run my mouth like that?  now I feel stupid.” I wrote back, “thanks for dinner.” I mean, what was I supposed to say, “Trust me, I wanted you to shut up more than you regret talking”?  Then the next night he texts me at 2am! We are not on the 2am text level. That is reserved for family and close friends. I didn’t respond. Again! The next night he texts me asking if I got his last text or if I don’t want to talk. I. Didn’t. Text. Back. He got that message.

But! and this is important people! Don’t make out with people that you work with! Even if they work at a different store than you. Because they might come into your store a month or two later! And come over to you and say “hi”! And then you’ll have to not look up and say “hi.” and then walk away. Because that is how it always goes. Until you get another job. Which doesn’t seem likely.

Which is why, I wish I could blame it on the alcohol, but at this point, it’s just bad decision making.





West Beverly Hills High School

I’m back again, this time to elaborate on my love for Beverly Hills, 90210; the original. It is safe to say that I am addicted to this show. It all started with me watching reruns of later episodes (much later, like the last few seasons) on SOAPnet before I would go to work or when I got home for work–and I got sucked in. Mostly because I have become disturbingly fixated on Luke Perry’s character Dylan. He’s so brooding, guarded, deep, but somehow manages to be warm. The writers sure did me a solid with this Dylan character! So someone donated the first season of 90210 where I work and I seized my opportunity and I haven’t looked back since. Literally, because I am so mesmerized by this show, I have no time or interest for anything else. 

Last post I included the opening credits to Season one, which are frankly, classic. I watched it along with every episode–normally I’ll fast forward right through it. My favorite part is when Dylan is on his surfboard shouting something–it’s hot. I LOVE IT. I shout out, “oh my god, I love it!” at least twice an episode. The first season is amazing, if you want to see television at it’s finest, I am recommending the first season of 90210. They managed to cram so many issues in to it and also have it wrapped up in a nice little package in 45 minutes.

They were able to cover both drug use and alcoholism in one episode with Kelly’s mom–by the end of the episode she was off to rehab and practically clean. They also hit on teenage alcoholism with Dylan’s character–who struggles with this problem for a couple of episodes–especially in the second season when his mom moves back to town. Also dealing with teen alcoholism is Brandon, who apparently gets drunk and addicted after one drink and then goes out and drives, totals his car, gets arrested, swears off drinking, and at the end of the episode, Dylan takes him to an AA meeting, which oddly enough is held on their high school campus and is full of teenage alcoholics. We can’t forget date rape! This is covered in both season one and season two. In season one, there is a teen hotline that kids can call to talk about their problems and this girl keeps calling and talking to Brenda about how she is basically being raped by football players after every game. Brenda tells her it’s not her fault, but that’s not enough, she has to find the girl! Which is against probably any anonymous hotline policies, but she finds her and freaks the girl out from calling again, but Brenda knows what is up and calls the police and has them hide in the bushes near the parking lot because she knows that these football rapists are going to strike again at the same time and same place and they do! And they are arrested. Sweet justice! In the second season, it is Kelly who accidently gets herself into a sticky situation at a Halloween party by wearing a provocative costume. Some low class a-hole dressed as a cowboy thinks that just because she is dressed seductively, she is asking to be sexually assaulted; we the viewers learn a valuable lesson that this is not the case–you have the right not to be attacked no matter how slutty your Halloween costume is.  

Losing your virginity to Dylan McKay is also covered in the first season. I took notes; because if I had a time machine you can bet that I’d be setting that thing for 1990 and getting myself on that show! 

Season two brings us new opening credits. I love this one almost as much as I love the first season opening. I especially love the part where they are trying to pass off some surfer who looks nothing like Luke Perry as Dylan surfing; it is so obviously not.

In season two Brenda breaks up with Dylan–because she got all scared when she thought she was pregnant she needed to slow things down. I can tell you one thing, I would not be slowing things down with Dylan McKay! Boy is fine! So up until episode 8, there is this back and forth thing with them–it’s only ’til Emily Valentine goes on a date with Dylan that Brenda realizes what a moron she is letting a piece of man like that wander free! Brandon eventually starts dating Emily, but she is all cray-cray and slips E into his drink at a club to get him to dance or some shit. Then he freaks out and breaks up with her, but she calls all psycho on him and stalks him and ruins their homecoming float that they built, but Brenda talks her out of setting the thing on fire and she goes to a mental hospital for a while. Brandon’s cute, but he’s no Dylan, come on now! 

We also see David Silver’s friend Scott bites the dust and  learn and important lesson on locking up fire arms in an out of the way places in our homes. Homeslice Scott wasn’t too bright and liked playing with guns and he accidently shot himself. It was a little bit sad because not only did he die, so did his career. We also learned that sometimes it’s not a good idea to set out and try to find our birth mother like Steve tried to do. You’ll most likely find out you went to Albuquerque for no reason, because your birth mother died a few years back in an auto accident. The Christmas episode touched me a little bit–I love Christmas and I love 90210 so it was like double fun. There is a magic santa who brings everyone together–including Dylan and his father. Dylan’s emotions are so real! I LOVE IT!

I haven’t finished season two yet, I only have six more episodes left and I am trying to save them, because I’m not sure when my season three dvd that I ordered is going to be here. It is killing me that I am not watching it right now! I have no idea what is making me so cray-cray about this show (besides Luke Perry)–but in some weird, pathetic way, I am really relating to it. Well, I don’t know if relating is the right word, but I am connecting to it. Watching it makes my life feel a little less shitty–if work sucks, which it most always does, I just come home and watch some 90210 and I’m in the early 90’s where people can’t get a hold of each other very easily because they don’t have cell phones and they have to make and effort to talk to one another instead of sending text messages and emails and all that. 

It makes me wonder what it would have been like to be a teen in the 90’s. I’m guessing pretty awesome, especially if I went to West Beverly. I also like the fact that the majority of the actors and actresses looked like real people. It’s hard to imagine those same teenagers (or 30 year olds playing teenagers) being able to be cast in a show like this today. Just look at Ian Zeiring:

Steve SandersThis is what passed for a goodlooking, jock, ladies man, in the early 90s. Also, Shannen Doherty (love her!), today would not be considered your conventional teen t.v. beauty:shannen-doherty-before1And who could forget Gabrielle Carteris who played Andrea Zuckerman, the resident brain of West Beverly. If this same woman (I say woman, because she was 29 years old when she started on 90210) walked into a casting today, I seriously doubt she would be given even the role of the nerd; we don’t even want our nerds to be believable anymore!Andrea Zuckerman

Now I’m going to post a picture of Luke Perry just for fun:luke1

And now, Sideshow Luke Perry:sideshow_luke_perry

And for some reason, when I watch the opening credits to season two, whenever this part comes on: jasprstly2

I am reminded of this part from the Schmitt’s Gay beer commercial with Chris Farley on Saturday Night Live:farleyschmittsI’ve had 22 episodes to make me think about this. Don’t judge me!

I don’t want it to end!!


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