Wow this girl can sing. I love her. And if you haven't met her, may I please introduce Kristin Chenoweth.
From "Wicked":
From "Candide":
Monday, April 28, 2008
Sunday, April 27, 2008
"Get a life"
To the young woman that shot me that comment. I liked it so much I decided to write about it.
Firstly, wow. What mad writing skills you posses. Your way of turning a phrase is a veritable symphony of sarcasm. A thing of true erudite and intelligent beauty. An amazing accomplishment in the “ba-zing” category. A righteous explosion of pure bitchery at it’s very, very finest.
Thank you for taking so much time out of your daily self-hate seminars and gracing me with a comment that will go down for the ages. I, for one, shall never forget it. Thank you for the astounding insight you offered us. It’s greatly appreciated.
Secondly, sweetheart. You just can’t see the forest through the “you”, can you? It’s not all about you darling. It’s about principle. If you cannot see that, then just tippy toe back to your two blogs and your “social network” dear. And perhaps ponder your own deeply meaningful words.
Firstly, wow. What mad writing skills you posses. Your way of turning a phrase is a veritable symphony of sarcasm. A thing of true erudite and intelligent beauty. An amazing accomplishment in the “ba-zing” category. A righteous explosion of pure bitchery at it’s very, very finest.
Thank you for taking so much time out of your daily self-hate seminars and gracing me with a comment that will go down for the ages. I, for one, shall never forget it. Thank you for the astounding insight you offered us. It’s greatly appreciated.
Secondly, sweetheart. You just can’t see the forest through the “you”, can you? It’s not all about you darling. It’s about principle. If you cannot see that, then just tippy toe back to your two blogs and your “social network” dear. And perhaps ponder your own deeply meaningful words.
Max Takes on Mean Girls
"Sent the club a wire stating, PLEASE ACCEPT MY RESIGNATION. I DON'T WANT TO BELONG TO ANY CLUB THAT WILL ACCEPT ME AS A MEMBER. "Groucho Marx
It’s true. I’m not an immodest woman. As a mater of fact, I single handedly ruined my third grade class picture. Imagine a black and white photograph of all the well-groomed children, in their “picture day” clothes. The little desks are turned around to face the camera. The teacher, Mrs. Fredrickson, is standing in her most parochial fashion near the blackboard. And two-thirds of the class AND Mrs. Fredrickson are staring at something.
Pan left. What are they staring at? There’s Max. She’s holding her hair swept to one side, movie star like. And has an outrageous “come hither” stare on her face. An eight year old girl should not have a “come hither” stare… but I did.
My straightforwardness has often gotten me into trouble. Some people just don’t like direct confrontation. They would rather play silly little games. It’s a form of empowerment for weasily, sniveling little cowards.
They prefer a free-style stab you in your back attack. It’s more fun. And then some will even go as far as dancing on your grave. Tacky AND tasteless.
I don’t care for mean girls. Never have. And I’ve come to the conclusion that girls, or women, who behave that way have rather serious emotional problems. Problems that stem so deep and still hurt them badly enough that they take their rage out on others. Especially on women they perceive as being stronger or smarter than they are. So, sadly, they alienate the women that could help them, if they would be reasonable. But they never are. They never are.
And… Eventide J. The gloaming of the twilight falls is upon us. May I have my work back now. Dealing with you is like sitting down to a triple deck shit sandwich, on pumpernickel toast.
Blowing you kisses,
Maxie
It’s true. I’m not an immodest woman. As a mater of fact, I single handedly ruined my third grade class picture. Imagine a black and white photograph of all the well-groomed children, in their “picture day” clothes. The little desks are turned around to face the camera. The teacher, Mrs. Fredrickson, is standing in her most parochial fashion near the blackboard. And two-thirds of the class AND Mrs. Fredrickson are staring at something.
Pan left. What are they staring at? There’s Max. She’s holding her hair swept to one side, movie star like. And has an outrageous “come hither” stare on her face. An eight year old girl should not have a “come hither” stare… but I did.
My straightforwardness has often gotten me into trouble. Some people just don’t like direct confrontation. They would rather play silly little games. It’s a form of empowerment for weasily, sniveling little cowards.
They prefer a free-style stab you in your back attack. It’s more fun. And then some will even go as far as dancing on your grave. Tacky AND tasteless.
I don’t care for mean girls. Never have. And I’ve come to the conclusion that girls, or women, who behave that way have rather serious emotional problems. Problems that stem so deep and still hurt them badly enough that they take their rage out on others. Especially on women they perceive as being stronger or smarter than they are. So, sadly, they alienate the women that could help them, if they would be reasonable. But they never are. They never are.
And… Eventide J. The gloaming of the twilight falls is upon us. May I have my work back now. Dealing with you is like sitting down to a triple deck shit sandwich, on pumpernickel toast.
Blowing you kisses,
Maxie
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Professor Max is taking you to school
Our curriculum is as follows:
High school: Mean Girls
Social Network: Mean Girls
High school: Jocks
Social Network: Jocks
High school: Freaks
Social Network: Freaks
High school: Nerds
Social Network: Nerds
High school: Outcasts
Social Network: Outcasts
High school: Fat
Social Network: Fat
High school: Skinny
Social Network: Skinny
High school: Ugly
Social Network: Ugly
High school: Pretty/Handsome
Social Network: Pretty/Handsome
High school: Insecure
Social Network: Insecure
High school: Doesn’t give a fuck what anyone thinks about them
Social Network: Doesn’t give a fuck what what anyone thinks about them
High school: Intelligent
Social Network: Intelligent
High school: Stupid
Social Network: Stupid
High school: Having sex
Social Network: Having sex
High school: Not having sex
Social Network: Not having sex
High school: Having an affair
Social Network: Having an affair
High school: Caste system
Social Network: Caste system
So let's have some fun and get "yelpy" with it.
Hi sweet boy J! Still want it... my work, that is. So suck it long and suck it hard. Sucky boy.
Adore you!
Maxie
High school: Mean Girls
Social Network: Mean Girls
High school: Jocks
Social Network: Jocks
High school: Freaks
Social Network: Freaks
High school: Nerds
Social Network: Nerds
High school: Outcasts
Social Network: Outcasts
High school: Fat
Social Network: Fat
High school: Skinny
Social Network: Skinny
High school: Ugly
Social Network: Ugly
High school: Pretty/Handsome
Social Network: Pretty/Handsome
High school: Insecure
Social Network: Insecure
High school: Doesn’t give a fuck what anyone thinks about them
Social Network: Doesn’t give a fuck what what anyone thinks about them
High school: Intelligent
Social Network: Intelligent
High school: Stupid
Social Network: Stupid
High school: Having sex
Social Network: Having sex
High school: Not having sex
Social Network: Not having sex
High school: Having an affair
Social Network: Having an affair
High school: Caste system
Social Network: Caste system
So let's have some fun and get "yelpy" with it.
Hi sweet boy J! Still want it... my work, that is. So suck it long and suck it hard. Sucky boy.
Adore you!
Maxie
The Yelp Chicago Threads Recently
Wow. Simply awful. Mindless. Numbing. Bullshit. It’s like all the air got sucked out of the threads.
Where to buy a bathing suit? Hmmmm. That’s a tough one. Way to ask the deep questions. If it gets any more meaningful, we may to convert to the religion of “Stupid”. Drink the stupid kool-aid, yes my pretties, drink it up.
Engagement pictures? Wedding help? Oh you poor darling dears. The engagement pictures are just going to be thrown out after the divorce. And that large expensive wedding your little Barbi heart desires? You could feed a small nation. Good to see you all have your priorities so darn straight. Way to be.
Nice try with “The Book That Changed Your Life”. Trying to class up an outhouse never really works darlin’. The picture may be pretty, but you still want to get out of there as fast as you possibly can. In other words, It may be a Monet. But it still smells like shit.
Yo, yo, yo, J-dog. I’m sure you’re getting tired of my requests for my work back, but I want it back. You urinal cake.
Where to buy a bathing suit? Hmmmm. That’s a tough one. Way to ask the deep questions. If it gets any more meaningful, we may to convert to the religion of “Stupid”. Drink the stupid kool-aid, yes my pretties, drink it up.
Engagement pictures? Wedding help? Oh you poor darling dears. The engagement pictures are just going to be thrown out after the divorce. And that large expensive wedding your little Barbi heart desires? You could feed a small nation. Good to see you all have your priorities so darn straight. Way to be.
Nice try with “The Book That Changed Your Life”. Trying to class up an outhouse never really works darlin’. The picture may be pretty, but you still want to get out of there as fast as you possibly can. In other words, It may be a Monet. But it still smells like shit.
Yo, yo, yo, J-dog. I’m sure you’re getting tired of my requests for my work back, but I want it back. You urinal cake.
Big pat on the rump,
Maxie
Friday, April 25, 2008
Masturbation - A Review
Webster’s defines… no, wait. That isn’t it. Woody Allen described it as “sex with someone I love”. And boy is it! Is it ever.
You’ve had a long day. He’s already obliged you twice. He’s sleepy. You’re not. What’s a girl to do? Take matters into your own hands. Or a toy. Or a shower massage.
Don’t just sit there all frustrated. You’ll feel much better. Your skin will glow. You’ll sleep like a baby. And you’re way less likely to a bitch tomorrow.
It’ also the cheapest date you’ll ever go on. With the added benefits of no STDs.
I come here time and time again.
(That was a first – it was quite popular. I’m rewriting it through memory.)
You’ve had a long day. He’s already obliged you twice. He’s sleepy. You’re not. What’s a girl to do? Take matters into your own hands. Or a toy. Or a shower massage.
Don’t just sit there all frustrated. You’ll feel much better. Your skin will glow. You’ll sleep like a baby. And you’re way less likely to a bitch tomorrow.
It’ also the cheapest date you’ll ever go on. With the added benefits of no STDs.
I come here time and time again.
(That was a first – it was quite popular. I’m rewriting it through memory.)
Speaking of wankers... May I get my hard work back yet? Thank you and do rent a trailor tractor to get the needle out of your ass. You might feel better.
Fond regards,
M.
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