I used to think if you had blue toilet water you were IN.  And by IN, I mean rich. Why? What is it about a soap that you put in the back of your toilet that tricks people into thinking you've got money in the bank? It may be that anyone who only has $3 in the bank is buying dinner from the dollar menu and not running to the store for blue replacement soap. I suppose that could be it. Natural human thought process is more concerned with hunger issues than luxuries like Kool-aid looking water you get to pee on. Otherwise, Venezuela would be the main importer of blue Kool-aid and Americans wouldn't be so intent on showing off the color of their toilet water.

Friday at 4pm I offered God $20 to make it 5 o'clock. But God was like, "I don't need $20, I'm God. Plus it's always 5 o'clock where I live." 

Well, it appears that I've gotten too big to keep blogging. This is a facade. I am tired. I am funny. It alternates. And I forget that I've ever started this thing. We'll keep this blog informative since it's been so long, friends. I started a comedy workshop a little over 8 weeks ago and thus began my career. I killed at my 1st show. I will kill at my 2nd (in 2 weeks) and I hope that will set precedent for all shows and eventually because I kill, people will want to pay me to tell them jokes. Until then I will tell you jokes for free. But don't be surprised if in 6 months you log onto my page and it requires a Paypal account to do so. I would never take advantage of you. Only$6/month with unlimited access to my blog. I just hope I remember to write something in it so you get your $6 worth.

The other morning I woke up and felt like I was going to be sick. I immediately considered morning sickness but quickly remembered that that isn't even an unfortunate option. So then I thought maybe I'm going to be the next Virgin Mary, well semi-Virgin. But then knowing me I'd abort and there wouldn't be any baby brother for Jesus. Sorry universe.

At what point do you throw your hands up in the air and QUIT trying to lose weight? When is it appropriate to say, "Fuck it. I'm fat. And I'm going to eat that burrito. Yes, the WHOLE burrito." At some point, Jesus should really take pity on me. He should realize that I've been at this game for years and I deserve a break. He should come back on Memorial Day and grant me a Byoncee body for once in my life. In which case, Memorial Day would shoot up in stature and become my favorite holiday--except for my birthday.

 

Dear Jesus,

 

All I want for Memorial Day is one small miracle. Apparently, you can help cancer victims, why can't you help fat people? We have a disease too, ya know. It's called PMM. You haven't heard of it? It's an acronym for Peanut M&M's. Please cure me of this debilitating disease. I promise to worship you forever and to force your religion onto all those who disagree if you'll only do me this one small favor.

 

Thanks for listening,

Awna

When was the last time someone started a conversation with you beginning with, "Knock knock"?

Beginning with Monday I have been devouring everything I've come across. So far this week, I've managed to eat an entire box of Cocoa Puffs, 7 sticks of string cheese, 1 trough of chicken noodle soup, a pint of B&J (in one sitting), a whole cantaloupe, and one M&M for every mile from LA to NYC. It's only Wednesday. I've also had 3 different people ask me what's wrong, if I'm okay...like I look sick or run down. The thing is, I'm not sick, I'm not tired, I'm not hungry. Yesterday, I seriously set aside the time I spent on the bus to try and figure out why I'm behaving so oddly and then it hit me... I'm beginning the stand-up workshop I signed up for 6 weeks ago on Saturday. It didn't sneak up on me--I've literally had my eye on May 5th since the day I decided to shell out the $500 it apparently takes for me to get serious about my life. But I am obvioulsy extremely anxious and I have no idea how to deal. It's like knowing I'm doing something that will change the course of my life is freaking me out. Imagine that. To me this feels like the craziest thing I've ever done, but when I step back it's such a tiny step in the millions of big ones I'll be encountered with in the future. If I can't deal with this how the HELL am I going to get through the rest of my life?

If you're ever considering buying a burrito from the taco truck, I'd like to offer a friendly suggestion of: DON'T. Those burrito's are sold with big red X's on the front for a reason. And it's in your best interest to not overlook the biohazard waste bin on the side of the truck. If you're in the mood to do something crazy or you're auditioning for Jackass, then eating from the taco truck is not a bad idea. If you have to go back to work your desk is more than 7 feet from the bathroom, then this IS a bad idea. There are plenty of other foods you can eat that will make your ass bigger without giving it a workout.

You know how when you're drunk almost anything will pass for authentic french cuisine? I mean taco's, donuts and anything that used to be alive but is now sold fried up on a bun looks like salvation. Well, I'm here to spread the word that cocoa puffs do not make the cut. I've just come home from the bar without cash and unwilling to swipe my amex even one more time. I raid my cupboards but all I find is cocoa puffs and I've been left severely disappointed. I then have to assume that if it doesn't make you fat and guilty it's probably not going to satisfy any late night cravings.

It seems to me that karma is the equivalent of jesus to those who don't buy into the religious bit. Just because we don't kneel to an unseen entitiy doesn't mean that we aren't held accountable for our actions. Bad karma's a bitch. I'd say worse than hell because you have to pay up almost right away. You can't just say "Sorry Jesus" after you robbed some little old lady and expect all to be good. You may be paying off bad karma for years for simple things, like ripping out cards from the card catalogue or stealing the cookie out of your sisters lunch box. Sometimes it's apparent right away that karma has hit you--you mouthed off to some unsuspecting victim and then trip over your own feet on your way out. But sometimes you know you must have fucked up long ago because years later you can't seem to find shoes to match your little black dress. Whereas if you believe in hell, instead of paying up on Earth, your hell would be a closet full of cute dresses and nothing but clogs.

Jesus walks into a 7-11. The cashier says, "Sir, you'll have to leave. The sign says: No Shirt, No Shoes, No Service." Then Jesus rises and floats above the chip aisle. He chooses Cheetos. The cashier rings it up.

 

Moral of the story: You don't need shoes if you can fly.

I've always felt that styrofoam should stop being produced, that way as consumers we wouldn't have to make that moral decision of whether or not to buy it. Despite styrofoam being completely environmentally UNfriendly, it really is the best way for coffee-drinkers to enjoy their coffee without scalding their hands. So, now we are faced with an entirely new conundrum: If we stop making styrofoam, people will be too tired to save the planet. Basically, either way, the planet is fucked. Why didn't Alanis address this?

I'm sick of eating Teddy Grahams and chocolate pudding for dinner. The only time my dinner is hot is when I'm not feeling cheap and I shell out $4 for a chicken burrito. My entire diet consists of ready-made foods. And since I hate going out to dinner, I'm fucked. I need to stop being single before I create an aversion to pudding. I thought if I moved in with a couple I'd be able to partake in a couple of dinners a week. That only lasted the first 2 weeks. Back to square one but this time I'm surrounded by baby food. And since you don't have to cook it...

I think if Jesus were around to see all the hangovers on Easter he would be really pissed he died for all this sinning.

 

Sorry Jesus, I can't go to church today to show my appreciation because that last Long Island last night kicked my ass and if I open my eyes before 2pm, I'll blow chunks all over my new bedding. But don't worry Jesus, I still identify with my religion. No where in the Bible does it say I can't get ripped on religious holidays. Couldn't you have ensured that religious holidays only landed on the first 3 days of the week? I find that the chances of my being spiritually devoted and not driven to happy hour usually happens on Monday, Tuesday and sometimes even Wednesday. The fact that you chose to make Sunday a day devoted to you is really unfair. This day should be devoted to me. Jesus, could you get me some water and aspirin? And quit making me feel guilty around 3 when I snap out of my hangover haze and realize that I haven't actually been to church since I the days when I loved to run home and catch Saved By the Bell after school. But I consider going, does that count? Well screw you Jesus, I've done some pretty cool shit too and I'm not asking for any time or money to be given to me to consider just how much I rock this planet. I'm sorry Jesus, it's still early and you haven't gotten me my water or aspirin like I asked. I didn't mean it. But lay off, I'm not going to church on Sunday mornings. Or any mornings. Or any evenings. But don't worry, I always tell the devil that I love Jesus so he can't steal my soul. But last night, I think that asshole slipped me a mickey. And now I'm missing $40 and my favorite panties.

Have you found that if you say something and then make your eyes big and pull back the corners of your mouth it negates whatever you just stated. Por example (that's french for For example):

 

Awna: Hey Derek, I really like your tie. :And then follow up with said facial expression:

or

Awna: Mmmm, I really love this pot roast. :facial expression:

 

See how that works?

I refuse to eat banana's in front of guys. I always get self conscious by assuming that they're imagining... you know. Perverts. By this same logic I also refuse to pick up cucumbers in the grocery store or wear a whipped cream bikini to work. And I definitely will NOT buy a lamp on a Tuesday. You just never know what goes through people's minds.

Sometimes when strangers ask, "How's it going?" I want to flip out and yell, "I don't even know you! Mind your own business Asshole!" Would that be appropriate?

It's officially Girl Scout cookie season. Traditionally, I celebrate the season by buying a couple boxes of thin mints. However, I have recently discovered that those bitches are charging $4 a box! What a scam. One of the guys at work said he can remember when they were $2.50 a box... I know the cost of making those cookies didn't go up. And I think it's a little far-fetched to blame this one on inflation. The only thing inflated here are the bank accounts of those frickin Girl Scouts. So, to prove my point, this year I'm only buying ONE box. That'll show those assholes.

I was telling Christine about the domestic bunnies that we keep finding in our yards. She asked me if I named them and I told her that my roommate had named one Maria. And she replied, "Maria...that rhymes with diarrhea!" Pretty clever. I'd never associate a bunny with shit even if it DOES rhyme.