Ladies, if a guy you went out to a Cubs game with wore a shirt with holes in it - would you think, 'Oh, he must really love that t-shirt?' or "Oh, he doesn't care what he looks like around me because he doesn't CARE." I'm debating this matter (granted, over a few Miller Lites) with someone right now and could really use your opinions. Upon gaining the evidence I need, I will present this research to this person in an IN YOUR FACE mature matter, cause I think I know what your responses will be. Be honest.

Smoochies,
Megan

A few thoughts on the MTV VMA Awards last night:

- The Polyphonic Spree? Don't drink the kool-aid, kids. Whomever booked them should be fired.
- The Virgin Mobile Phone product placement during Jessica Simpson's performance was fucking painful to sit through.
- The booing during Vanessa and Alexandra Kerry's appearance made me cry for my generation.
- Was Bruce Willis there searching for a new girlfriend? WHY WAS HE THERE?
- People really care about Usher, huh? Hm.
- Was it just me, or did Andre 3000 sound bored during his performance? Perhaps the Choose or Lose was just a little forced fed. (note: sarcasm)

By far the worst VMA Awards show ever. But then again, I think that every year.

At about 2 am last night, my friends and I are standing outside this bar, waiting for my friend's (sober) finace to pick us up after a very.long. girls night out. A guy approaches me on the street, introduced himself, said he was from Dallas, and that he didn't know where his friends were. I said, "Oh, man, that sucks." Then he proceeds to tell me that this was a delicate thing to ask, but that he is in search for a "memory" in Chicago. I told him I didn't know what he was suggesting (yes I did), but at one point I said "I'm no memory, I'm a LEGACY, and that you should treat me as such." At this point, my friends are cracking up, but I don't give him a word edgewise and keep laying into him about how DARE he come up to me and suggest that i'm a mere mem-o-ry. By this point, our ride pulled up, and I'm still talking, I said, "So, sweetheart, I'm gonna go now, but good luck searching for that memory you were looking for."

Sir, your order of your balls served on a platter is ready.

Our "hot" (according to the 20-something boys in my office) intern's last day was yesterday. We took her out for Mexican at lunch, and bought her 19-year-old ass some margaritas as a "I'm so sorry this was the summer from hell, please take these alcoholic beverages as a token of our appreciation." Alcohol is like the gold watch of retirement to a 19-year-old. When she left, she was teary, and I don't know if it's because I really helped mold and shape a young girl's mind about event marketing, or it was because she was slightly tipsy and she's just a "sad drunk." A hot, sad drunk. See ya in Playboy's College Edition!

Adieu, Lindsey, adieu.

I could really use a beer and seeing a good band right about now.

PussyRanch has called it quits. Not sure how long that'll last (they always come back, don't they?), but it's a sad day indeed. Helluva writer, helluva (former) stripper.

I went out last night with a guy named Ron, short for Ronald. I really need to start trusting my gut more and not date guys whose names I don't even like, because chances are I won't like them. I know I shouldn't take my name prejudice out on the guy and direct my "what were you thinking?" instead to his parents who named him that, but I've decided I can't date someone with the following name:

- Terrence
- Ron
- Anyone with a name that was popular during the US Industrial Revolution, including, but not limited to:
- Clarence
- Darrel
- Mervin
- Wilbur
- Jebediah
- Abraham
- Ezekeial

Wally wanted you all to know he's doing fine after his surgery. Clearly, he looks proud he's been fixed.



The guy just has very little modesty.

Last night, my friends and I got together for a boat party along the Chicago River and the lake with the city skyline as our backdrop. I was looking forward to this for a while, and we had a great time. They had music, food, and all you can drink from 8 - midnight for $65. Not a bad deal at all. Needless to say, I partook heavily in the all you can drink buffet, as we all did, and am hungover like a mofo today.

Here are friends (from left) Laura, me, Katie and Betsy. Taken early in the evening, naive to the pain I'd be experiencing today. Good lord, I'm like, a foot taller than Betsy. You can't see them, but I'm wearing pink pants. Fucking pink pants, yo! (Yes, I realize how ridiculous that is).


At about 10:30, fireworks started going off at Navy Pier, as they do every Wed. and Sat. nights in the summer. So fun.


I feel like my entire summer was smushed into one night, and last night was it. Meh, I hate you winter.

A couple of housecleaning items for today:

- New Oral-B Brush Ups are fucking gross. I mean, if I took the El to work and saw some asshole brushing his teeth with a little ribbed finger puppet, I'm not going to lie, I would freak. out.

- Does anyone else think it's a little sad that The Raveonettes are doing K-Mart ads, or is it just me? I think I heard little pieces of their Danish souls dying.

- The rumor I heard today is that The White Stripes are splitting up. Not sure if that's true or not, and I can't find anything about it online. If they do, it'll just free up Jack's time to create that Garage Rock Boy Band he's been clammering to put together. Oh wait. I did find something online, here it is.

Um, for the record, I am so low on clean underware, I'm wearing my tankini swimsuit bottoms right now. I'm gonna go do some laundry. Bust it.

I can tell by that look on your face that you're jealous that I can go swimming at any moment.

I just booked a flight to Vegas!

It's time to return...to fulfill my dream of becoming a show girl. :: waves arms in dramatic fashion ::

Last night, I went to a Sox game with Bob, which is an experience in and of itself. He took me to the Stadium Club, which was the first and probably last time I will be fortunate enough to have dinner there, as you have to be a member to eat there. la la la. It was very nice, and the conversation was lovely, and then I noticed Bob looking over my shoulder. I thought he was checking out some chick, so out of curiosity, I turned to see what he was looking at. It was much worse than that, though. He was looking at himself in a mirror that was behind me, so I proceeded to quietly serenade him with Carly Simon's "You're So Vain."

Sox lost 8-10 to Detroit. Sucky.

I, like billions of you, watched part of the Olympic Opening Ceremonies on Friday night while I visited pals in Michigan. I have to admit, I am crushing on the Iraqi Soccer Team. Hellllllo, enemy.

Mmmm....it's like a Man-wich. Or, insert your tasteless Abu Gharib jokes here.

I have these 2 boxes in my room that have moved with me from Wisconsin to Michigan to Illinois. Today, I finally decided to sift through them to see what I could junk and what I should keep. In them were old letters from exes, cards, pictures from college, etc. I found a card that I almost junked, but decided to take a peek at who it was from. It was an old college graduation card from my (now deceased) grandpa, with the check still inside, dated 5-17-99. Um, I know I was busy around that time, getting ready to move to Detroit and all, but I don't recall smoking crack that I would forget to cash something like this. Way to go, Ace.

The good news is, (in a roundabout way) I can still use the check, which is better than finding money in an old winter jacket right now. I graduated!...(5 years ago)

RIP, Julia Child. You made for a great chef, and a helluva spy. I called Bob and he just said it's a sad, sad day indeed. He wrote this song about you while grounded when he was 16 for god knows what. I told him he's gotta get his band back together to do a tribute tonight.

Julia Child

Guess who gets to have his balls cut off tomorrow and doesn't realize it?

Maybe he does, he kinda looks like he's giving me the bird in this shot. Pun intended. If you think you're having a bad day tomorrow, just think of him.

My Tivo mocks me.

A very HUGE thank you to the Geekboy for spending an HOUR AND A HALF on the phone with me to help me get my Tivo set up. Seriously. HUGE karma points are comin' your way. He was very patient on the phone with me while I struggled to find out why my TiVo did not receive a signal into this piece of shit tv I have. We got all the way back to the reason I currently do not have TiVo set up after 7 months, and that's because I do not have a phone line, since I'm all wireless. After all of this, I am back to square one of why I do not have TiVo in the first place. I will have to get SBC to install a phone line for me, for literally, 15 minutes of use. That's all I fucking need it for.

I hate you, TiVo. Stop smiling at me.

So, my Tivo is about 90% set up now. I've got to purchase some cord that starts with a C and has a yellow, red and white prong thingy and I'm all set to go. I've only had this fucking thing for 7 months sitting in my apartment, with a brief trip to Bob's house to program it for me about 2 months ago.

I hate you, technology.

I just ate these with my lunch.

I now shall take a shower in the Euphrates River to cleanse myself of such filth, disgust and remnants of Hooter girls skank.

It's a sad, sad day today. Rick James died......BITCH!

Have you ever noticed someone who attended Harvard finds a way to bring it up within the first 5 minutes of conversation? I guarantee it. For instance, let's say we're sitting around talking about regional US accents, and I just met you. A normal person would say, "Yeah, I lived out East for a while, so I picked up this Boston accent." A Harvard turd would say something like, "Yeah, while I was going to school at Hah-vaad, I really seemed to pick up the East coast accent."

You couldn't scream, "I am a total chode," louder if you tried. Really.

Random fun fact of the day, as told by my friend, Laura:

:: phone rings at work ::

Me: "Hello, this is Megan." (sounding all Polly Professional)
Laura: "Hey"
Me: "Hey, what's going on?"
Laura: "Did you know that Oprah once had a woman on her show named Dot Com? She was like, 86."
Me: "Wait. Her actual name was Dot Com?"
Laura: "Yeah, isn't that neat?"
Me: "Actually, it is."
Laura: "I know. I'm going to name my kid Dot some day."
Me: "You called me at work just to tell me that?"
Laura: "Yup."
Me: "Ok, I'm going now..."

I act all annoyed, but I love it when she does shit like this. Makes the day go by so much easier.

My stomach has been very angry with me the past couple of days. Could be an evil combination of drinking combined with jumping around in an inflatable jumpy thing at the biggest!party!of!the!summer! (you know the Evite) on Saturday. I made Bob and his friend go in with me, which was very funny at the time to see a couple of 40 year olds jumping around in one of those things. Apparently, my stomach didn't have such a good time and nothing I do is making it better. I'm currently sipping on Diet 7-Up and some pretzels to calm the anger, but it's not helping.

Any suggestions are welcome. Until then, I will just rub my tummy like a Buddha statue and try to karma it away.

Um, did you know that there is a Blog Stock Market Game? Apparently, my blog is worth a mere $4,470.58. Buy now, people, because the FDA is about to approve the Write On, Megs Gel Caplets and my stocks are about to fucking skyrocket.

Write On, Megs is a good investment for your financial future.