Tickle Yourself Elmo!

So I had to post this Dane Cook "Tickle" joke b/c it reminds me of this inside office joke we have here. I cannot stop giggling. And those of you who know me, know that my laugh is out of control.

Anyways, I make fun of Jake G. b/c he caresses his arm while he works, almost like he's tickling himself. Cowboy then pretends to be Jake G. tickling himself. It's hilarious. "No Jake, don't tickle your feet."

Can you imagine someone actually tickling their own armpit? Hilarious.

Taxi!

One of my keen observations here in Europe has been the difference in taxi drivers compared to the US. I have had some of the most hilarious taxi rides here and in Paris than I've ever had in New York.

Last weekend in Paris, Julie, Jen and I were in a cab, all in the backseat. The song "Dancing Queen" by Abba came on. We literally whispered, "Oh I like this song." I mean what girl hasn't danced to that 718 times in college? Seriously. He then proceeds to blast it. I mean blast it, windows up style. Of course we then felt obligated to sing it ridiculously loud. Good times!

Then here in Budapest, the taxi driver this morning, mind you, was again out of control w/ the radio. He busted in HIS OWN CD of American rap. He then played it incredibly loud with the bass pumpin'. All while he floored it. When we arrived to work, we definitely needed a drink and some slutty clothes on. Yeah I wouldn't mind seeing Jake G. in one more of his ridiculously tight T-shirts. (Side: "There goes her fat ass in that too tight T-shirt." I digress.)

You will never have this experience in New York. Never.

Do This Test!

Cute Dentist

Well I survived my dentist appt. Nothing major needs to be done--I'm getting a filling on Monday. Why? B/c I'm 12 and eat candy. But overall the exam went well. He just looked at my teeth, poked around. Not sure why I had to get undressed for that, but who am I to judge Hungarian dentistry?

And oh--the hateful little man at the hotel who hates me has been MIA lately. That or I just haven't noticed him b/c he's following me while hiding in a plant or something. I'm sure that's it!

Goodbye Loved Ones!

This may be my farewell post for tomorrow I have to go to a dentist, here. The movie Hostel keeps coming to mind. In case you haven't seen that movie, it's about American tourists in Europe who get kidnapped. They are then tortured and killed by rich people across the world who are bored. Yep, that may be my dentist tomorrow.

Well, it's been real, yo!

Fan Wars

So the initial table wars that we had at the beginning have now become the fan wars. We have two 1978 oscillating fans in this hot, stinky room. Now, the room is small, but not so tiny that we are all sitting right next to each other. Anyways, there's one fan in the front part of the room, and one for the back.

The Stache literally had the nerve to come take the back room fan (my back room fan), and sit it directly in front of him. And oh the topper - HE TURNED OFF THE OSCILLATING FUNCTION AND IS LITERALLY JUST SITTING IN FRONT OF THE FAN WITH HIS STACHE OF GLORY BLOWING IN THE WIND.

Of course, I have to say something at this point. So in front of everyone, I tell him just how rude he is. Unbelievable! I cannot for the life of me stand rude people. The Stache has gone too far. Again, I'll break the fan before he has his own.

I think the wheels from his chair are going to have to be removed as well. Yes, I'm hateful today. Not good for the Stache.

Mortal Enemies

For some reason, the little man who works in the exec lounge loathes me entirely. It started off small, a dirty look here and there. Didn't think much of it. Then, one morning he tells me that I can't take an apple juice and a water--something I have taken every morning since my arrival, and something that just about everyone else does. So I look at him, open the apple juice, drink it in front of him, slam the bottle down, take the water and go. WTF? I mean, why is he the apple juice police with me and no one else. So I was steamed - and then to top it off, when I went downstairs, others had 2 drinks--BUT NOT ME--OH NO. That little, hateful man made sure of that.

Things then escalate . . .

The morning of my flight to Paris, I went back to the exec lounge to print my boarding pass. Lucifer is again working. He sees my suitcase, smiles and says, "Oh you are finally leaving yeah?" "No, I'll be back." [insert sinister laugh here] He frowns instantly. He asks me where I'm going and what time my flight is. I tell him "10 am." Mind you, it's 7 am. We are 25 minutes from the airport. He then proceeds to go crazy on me:

"Oh no, you too late. You might as well go right back upstairs b/c you aren't going anywhere. I can't believe you are leaving so late. There is too much traffic. Tell Paris goodbye."

OH MY GOD. Is he for real? I have THREE HOURS DUDE.

I feel very uncomfortable, so I'm like "I think we're cool." I leave and decide to go down to the business center. I'd rather pay for copies than sit with this hateful man for too long.

HE FOLLOWS ME. Like I'm a shoplifter or something. He watches me print at the business center all hateful. What did I do to this little man?

So it is on. It has become my life's mission to mess with this man. I think tonight I'll go to the exec lounge, open one of everything, take a sip, and leave open bottles all over the place. Jake G. suggested that I just pour the peanuts into my bag, and then tell him they're out of peanuts. Or next time he follows me, I'll walk all weavey like to see if he does too. Yeah--these cruel cruel jokes will show him. You don't mess with a mastermind like me. Oh no.

Stupid hateful man.