Author Archives: plumpdumpling

Rub and Scrub and Scrub and Rub. Germs Go Down the Drain. Hey!

Posted by plumpdumpling on November 10, 2009 – 2:00 pm
Filed under my uber-confrontational personality, potty mouth, why i'm better than everyone else
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I like to judge people for fairly irrational things like:

1) not liking something as small as onions, while I myself hate everything that comes from the sea except possibly crab, and I only eat that when forced,
2) not putting their dirty dishes in the dishwasher at work, while I myself leave dishes in the sink at Kamran’s for days, and
3) using abbreviations like “lol” in chat, while I myself say “brb” all of the time, though I usually follow it up with “~@~”, which in Google chat looks like a pile of poo with flies circling around it, and the awesomeness of that cancels out my “brb”.

There’s one thing I judge people for that I don’t think is irrational, though, and that’s not washing their hands after using the bathroom. I know that ingesting someone else’s urine likely isn’t going to kill me, but I still feel so superior as I take an extra-long time to wash my hands in the bathroom and call innocently to anyone who leaves without stopping at the sink, “Oh, excuse me, but I think you accidentally-and-not-at-all-because-you’re-a-lazy-respectless-heathen forgot to wash your hands!” With the hugest, fakest smile on my face.

As I was rinsing today at work, though, I wondered, what do people who don’t wash their hands think about me? Are they judging me for being too clean?

Photodump Part 1

Posted by plumpdumpling on November 9, 2009 – 2:00 pm
Filed under narcissism
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On the way back to Kamran’s apartment with lunch on a Sunday afternoon, the Chrysler Building still stops us after three+ years of living by it.


At a GRE study session before dinner, Bridgette tells us about the molestation case she just finished jury duty for that afternoon, and Chantee is incredulous. Either that, or this is where we were arguing over the definition of the word assail, and Chantee was really into it.


A view of the Yankees World Series ticker tape parade in downtown from my office building.


Crazy Aunt Dorothy™ bakes me her famous German chocolate cake when I visit Ohio for my birthday.


After a visit to the Fashion Institute of Technology’s Seduction exhibit, Beth and I appropriately pass the Museum of Sex and learn a new fun fact.

The Yankees Apparently Won the World Series

Posted by plumpdumpling on November 6, 2009 – 10:10 am
Filed under living in new york sucks so hard, stuff i hate, why i'm better than everyone else
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The Awesome Part About Working in Downtown NYC on Yankees World Series Parade Day: My office building overlooks the parade, so I can watch it from our balcony without having to actually stand amongst the stinking masses.

The Awful Part About Working in Downtown NYC on Yankees World Series Parade Day: I don’t actually care about the Yankees or even baseball in general, yet I had to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with all of the cheerful fans this morning on the train. Grand Central was flooded with people in jerseys who had apparently taken the day off for the parade, which makes me a little sick to my stomach.

The Idiot Thing I Did in NYC on Yankees World Series Parade Day: I wore baby blue pants with a baby blue shirt and a navy blue track jacket. If one more person says something Yankees-positive to me on the train today despite the fact that I’m wearing headphones and reading a magazine, there will be blood.

Based on the Photo, He’s Likely Also from Ohio

Posted by plumpdumpling on November 4, 2009 – 11:34 am
Filed under good times at everyone else's expense
Tagged as ,

I received a notice from OkCupid’s QuickMatch function this morning that one of the following nine men gave me a high rating:

I looked through them, considering which is most likely to want to bang me, and decide that really, any of them would make a suitable replacement for Kamran if ever a Kamran replacement was needed.

The first guy is at a sporting event, which turns me off, but at least I know he’s likely not one of those house-bound fatties who needs to be lifted through his roof with a crane every time he needs to leave.

The seventh guy looks a little unwashed, but he’s wearing a shirt that appears to say “Iron Lung”, which means he either likes Radiohead or iron lungs in general, and either of those is fine with me.

The second guy reminds me of Randy Travis in profile, but he’s in a plane, and I appreciate a world traveler. And I’m assuming this guy is a world traveler and not an NYC-to-Ohio-and-back traveler like me.

The fourth guy isn’t even necessarily a guy, and that mask is exceedingly stupid, but it leads me to believe the person is into art, which is great, even if it’s dumb art.

And so on and so on. With all of the daydreaming I was doing about my potential relationships with the relatively normal-looking gentleman, it took me several minutes to actually process this guy:

I love the picture, because it’s one of those that keeps him from having to write a single word about himself in his profile. He has a mullet and a mustache and is CREEPILY PEERING AT YOU FROM BEHIND A BUSH. Or a tree. Whatever. The point is that you know all you need to know about him and his late night lady-watching habits from that photo alone.

Which means he’s obviously the one who chose me.

If the World was Fair, Candy Pumpkins Would Be Available All Year

Posted by plumpdumpling on November 2, 2009 – 1:52 pm
Filed under holidays don't suck for me, it's fun to be fat, par-tay
Tagged as , ,

This is all that’s left of Halloween, but it sure was good while it lasted. Kamran and I spent Friday night watching horror movies instead of, you know, piecing together a simple costume so as to not disrespect our friend Anthony’s party the next night.

To make us feel extra bad, Anthony seriously went all-out for this thing. As if we weren’t impressed enough to actually know someone who owns a house and can therefore have a legitimate house party (even if it was out on Long Island), he had the place covered in cobwebs and bathed in creepy lighting with awesome additions like strings of razorblades hanging in the doorway to the dining room. His friends all had elaborate costumes, and he went around the party in an H1N1 emergency response team uniform, drinking what he said was germ-ridden waste.

I ended up wearing a pink tank top with a black shirt covered in stars over it and said I was aurora borealis, while Kamran wore a striped sweater and said he was Freddie Kreuger had he gone straight, stopped murdering kids, and gotten his PhD. No one was impressed, but we brought a box of thirty assorted candy bars with us, so we didn’t get egged.

Of course, we ended up eating at least half of those thirty candy bars ourselves and stuffing more in our pockets for the long ride home on the Long Island Railroad, but no one was sober enough to notice.