two dolla

no more trading without my approval

I want to move out of Minnesota. It’s really just for sports-related reasons, but still. I think it’s a valid excuse.

The Timberwolves trade everyone to Boston.

The Twins let one of my top three favorite players go to another team, and try to trade another one of my top three favorite players to any other team that will offer them something.

The Vikings. Well, whatever. They’re the Vikings.

And now the Lynx are rumored to be trading Lindsey Harding. This is where I draw the line.

Harding was the first pick overall in the WNBA draft last season and has been trying to engineer a trade to the Comets ever since.

She went to high school in Houston (where the Comets play), so I can kinda understand that. I don’t like it, but I understand the logic behind it.

Harding for one of the Comets’ centers and their 5th pick in this year’s draft sounds like a good deal, but it’s Lindsey Harding. LINDSEY HARDING.  Our options, if this should go past just a rumor, would be Sancho Lyttle or Michelle Snow. Sancho has an awesome name; Michelle DUNKS.

When we hung out she gave me her autograph during a post-game fan appreciation type thing, she was super nice. She wasn’t one of those scribble-scribble-next type of autograph-signing players (no, my most favorite player had to pull that shit!); she was all, "hey, thanks for coming. Here you go. Thanks again. You’re awesome." (maybe not the last part, but still.) Stuff like that really resonates with fans in a terrific way. ESPECIALLY ME. Now that I know she’s wanted to play in Houston since she was drafted, I may be a little less of a gigantic fan, though.

Sports make me all emo nowadays. I need to go back to work, so I can have real grown up things to want to slit my wrists about and not who’s going to be playing point guard for the Lynx during the first year I have season tickets.

this got longer than it should have

I just got a call that I’d been waiting for ever since I turned in my notice to Get the Fuck Out vacate my current apartment. It was from the girl I’d originally rented the apartment from, and ironically, she’d quit just a few months after renting my apartment to me. One of her big "selling points" in the sales pitch of the century to get me to sign my lease was that the former management company (Equity Apartments) was not only a great place to live, but potential renters could see that by the fact that the employees were so loyal and stayed around for so long. She was a nice girl, and I desperately needed an apartment, so SOLD.  This was in February 2006. Turns out, she’s recently come back to work, because A) she hated the old management company and B) the things the new management company would be doing were going to be so great. Right.

About nine months ago, the new management company got the balls rolling with pissing me off at least once a month. I could go back and link to posts, but it’d just piss me off even more. So, you can have a brief list:

• They don’t enforce any type of quiet time.
• They often can’t find packages that are delivered to the office.
• The guy that works in the office is an asshole.
• The customer service is shitty.
• They take forever to fix things in common areas.
• The "security system" doesn’t actually record anything in the building.
• My locks were changed and they didn’t tell me until I came home one day.
• The appearance has gone downhill (half painted walls, trash everywhere, etc.)
• I was going to have to pay another deposit if I wanted to move into a 1BR in my current building.
• Remember the shit that backed up onto my bathroom floor and took days to fix?
• How about the time the bathroom above was leaking into my shower?
• The laundry facilities only work every now and then.
• Nobody picks up their dog shit.
• A blended family of hippos, rhinos, and buffalo live upstairs.
• A family of 6540 meerkats live next door.

 

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last call for boob cookies

Or actually boob-related cookies, although I wonder if we’d have a better response if we sold cookies actually shaped like boobs.

In any case, tomorrow’s the last day to put your order in for Team Boobylicious’ very own homemade holiday cookies. You can read more information on our team’s blog (I will forever hate that word!) and place an order online, too.

I’m going to follow Jumi’s lead on this one, too. For those of you not in my local delivery area (which includes the greater Twin Cities metro area and the mid-Missouri area), I’ll pay the shipping for you. It’ll be my little $6 Christmas gift to you. Just be sure to put my name – Wendy Timberlake-Pitt-Mauer-Mann-Bartender-at-the-90s (while I don’t believe in marriage much anymore, I believe in making sure I have all their last names, so I can seem prestigious and fancy) – in the "heard about" field. You can also just put Wendy or two dolla or anything that’ll make sense, really.

Thank you in advance, from both me and my boobs.