In this I believe

This I believe…

Everyone should have or does have a gay uncle, great uncles count. Everyone should love themselves and everyone should eat more broccoli and take vitamin B, B2, B3 and B77 or what ever it goes up to now. Everyone should keep their friends within close reach and their enemies even closer. This I believe… It is only ok for women to spit as long as they were taught by their grandfather when they were under the age of four.

This I believe…. Our country hates politicians, whether Gore, Clinton, Kennedy, or Bush. We just complain. The right that we have, the right to complain, now this I believe. Public education is a joke, and this I believe. Only job in the world where employees (teachers) are entitled to their jobs whether good or bad. This I believe, a true educated person can sit in a room with Fox news freaks and CBS weirdoes and still equally like them both.

In this I believe, David Sedaris is the only author that ever literally made me wet my pants. And hundreds of others get published a year for writing the same story about some troubled middle class girl in New York one step away from a mental break down. On the last part I don’t believe because it just makes me want to vomit.

In this I believe, people with ugly kids still find them cute, and my dog is cuter than yours.

In this I believe, you will most likely in life find people wanting you to change and rarely people that want you to be yourself.

In this I believe… you will always have cute middle class teenagers who can afford five hundred dollar purses, and middle class, not so cute women buying the knockoffs.

In this I believe beer cozies, and the color brown will make a comeback.

I believe if the groomer ever cuts my dogs hair like a poodle again I will, and I believe this time I will kick her right in her Judy.

I believe in world peace, and all the blah blah stuff we can only hope will ever come, you know when the real Peter Pan fly’s home.

In this I believe, the people that eat creepy crap on fear factor are nasty and the people that watch are ever nastier. I believe in Danny Tanner from Full house, uncle Jesse and Kimmy Gibler. I believe that good in T.V. died with T.G.I.F. I believe video never killed the radio star but NBC killed my childhood when they canceled Doogie Houser MD. As An adult I believe it is impossible to choose between death or sleeping with Paul from the Wonder Years.

Cleaning Out My Closets

We’re moving soon so tonight I decided to clean house and I came across a few thing I thought I would share. Some of the things I kept and some I ditched…

Terrible pictures I developed myself in a darkroom my mom and uncle made for me when I was about 14. – TRASHED… Most because I was a terrible photographer, some because they were bad memories, some because I looked ugly, and the rest because they turned yellow like they had Jaundice.

Old diaries ranging from age seven on. KEPT… part because they have good memories, part because they humble me into remembering how stupid I was, part because one had an entry entered much later in life, secretly written from a friend stating “I want to fuck Mik” referring to my seven year old journal entry about having a crush on Mik, or how adults spell “Mike” Part because I don’t think its legal to go somewhere and burn them, isn’t there some kind of open fire law?

Cards from old friends/ old family members. KEPT… (some of them) There is nothing like reading through old birthday cards to remind you of how many people love you and how great they think you are. Purpose for saving: Pure Ego Boost

Sorbet. ALMOST TRASHED… a stuffed Eeyore from when I was too old to have stuffed animals. I think psychologists call this digression. Threw him away somewhere I could retrieve him, if after I slept off this wine buzz I could find him, you know… if I needed to.

Old Poems written in middle school. TRASHED… way before I knew what love was, feeling were, or life was about (if I do now)… threw away because they were far to embarrassing to even read let alone kept. I kept envisioning I would die and someone would find these, and realize what a douche bag I was.

Soap making paraphernalia from when I decided to be “Katie Lauren Soap Maker Extraordinaire”.TRASHED… because I realized microwaving soap and pouring it into plastic molds was not fun. Even after you added a scented fragrance.

Construction paper Indians( Native Americans), from my first year working in an elementary classroom found in the file cabinet of a twenty six year long teacher. KEPT… because I know I will NEVER see anything more politically incorrect in all my teaching years.

Old Army issued birth certificates from Germany, that belong to my old boyfriend. SENT TO HIM… because I don’t want them, he might need, them and I feel too guilty to throw them away.

Pictures of my old dogs I sold to a puppy mill when me and the old boyfriend broke up. TRASHED… Ok I DIDN’T sell them to a puppy mill, just some really nice folks with lots of kids and a big back yard. But the puppy mill sounded funny, and as far as the pictures they were trashed because they no longer seemed useful.

Project I entered in our elementary school “stock show” a real pretty story, decorated with all kind of flashy paper about my pet tadpole I ordered in the mail. KEPT… this shit is just plain funny.

Love, Jesus

Dear Kmart and Local Grocery Stores,

I hope this letter finds you in good health, if the situation is otherwise please take that up with my father. I am writing regarding your “Jesus Pillar Candles”. I am positive you know which I am talking about. They can usually be found on an endcap in Kmart or the “Ethnic” isle in the grocery stores. You know, located just next to the canned refried beans and those gross Asian noodles that taste like cardboard. Just above those little corn things found in stir fry everyone hates. You can take that up with my father as well those things were a grave mistake, lets call it “the Great Corn Experiment gone wrong”. So any who back to those pillar candles.

Lets start with price, they cost a DOLLAR! I mean I am not egotistical maniac but do you know how little a dollar is today. This of it this way you can either pay your respects to Jesus with a nice pillar candle or you can eat a double cheese burger from Mc Donald’s. No I know those cheese burgers are swell and trust me I eat my fair share up here, but lord where have people’s priorities gone? One would even assume with the cost of inflation Jesus candles would have gone up a bit over the years. But no they are still a dollar.

So to get to the point of my letter, this is actually a cease and desist letter. See me and my boys, the apostles have gotten together alone with a few of the saints you portray on these candles and decided this must stop. We will no longer have our people be forced to answer the question, “Should I get 10 bags of Romen noodles or a Jesus candle.” Trust me when God said “let there be light” he wasn’t referring to some dumb ass, cheap, smells like shit pillar candle.

If you are going to continue to make money exploiting me and my boys please do so in a way in which isn’t so white trash.

P.S. Tell that fat bitch who runs your stores to stop asking my father to help her loose weight, there are some miracles even he can’t perform.

Love,

Jesus

My Brother The Tard

My brothers retarded I hope you know. Now I don’t mean like Corky, or Rain Man retarded. He’s his own special kind of retarded. Don’t think I’m confused with him just being stupid he’s real genuine retarded.

He makes his ‘O’s’ all wrong. All fucked up and shit. Starts at the bottom and goes to the top. Not normal… kinda retarded like. They warned my mom you know. They told her it was a sign of retardation. They kinda look like smashed side ways D’s.

You should know he failed Kindergarten. Stop him on the street and ask him; he’ll give you some story about being young and small or some retarded excuse. Kid should wake up and realize he failed. Probably didn’t know his letters or some shit.

So last year he put my little sisters Christmas present in a blue and white gift bag. Stupid retard didn’t even know those were Hanukah colors. This of course was before we knew we were Jewish. Thought he was being nice when he said I could put my gifts in it also. Like it isn’t hard enough my parent have one retarded kid, we don’t want them to think I crossed over as well.

Tried to put him up for adoption last week. Called the adoption service and was helped by a real bitch. I mean she started off cool and all. So I tell her I want to put my retarded brother up for adoption. She went on with some nonsense about him being twenty-five and some crap about me not being able to because I wasn’t his parent. I was like shit lady if you met my parents you would know they weren't his either. So I was like come on let me give him up he’s a pain in the ass. And she was like… NO. So I was like well you can’t just not take him because he’s retarded. So she was like, well how is he retarded? So I was like well lady you should see how this kid holds his spoon. Grips the whole damn thing in his fist like a two year old. Plus he breathes weird when he eats. So she was all telling me that, stuff like that doesn’t classify someone as handicapped. So I was like whatever bitch don’t be pulling out your technical terms on me. I said you know what adoption lady, your probably just pissed because your retarded. So she all goes and hangs up on me before I even get to the part about how he makes his “O’s”.

So I’m totally stuck with his ass now. I mean come on this kid doesn’t even eat egg drop soup. He used to love it, Used to eat it all but the chunks. He doesn’t eat the chucks because he doesn’t like eggs. So one day I was like “hey retard those chunks are tofu and the stringy things are the eggs.” Ass hole doesn’t even know what eggs are.

It’s funny to watch him drink. I mean don’t get me wrong they guy can handle his shit, but after about ten beers or so he really starts to get the whole short bus look in his eyes. His girl friend always tries to blame me. Says shit like … “well he’s YOUR brother”. I just listen to her because I feel sorry for her, having to put up will all that “O” nonsense. But in my head I’m thinking yeah he’s my brother but you’re the one making the choice bitch.

So he has a job and all. Functions just fine, makes good money, went to college lives in a house. But its only because they don’t know. Bet you lots of money if those people that gave him the house or the job… bet you lots if they saw how he made his “O’s” they put him on the next short bus to the special Olympics.
.

Big Daddy

An Excerpt from my "Angry Waitress Files"

Dear Ex Hooters Manager Who is Now My Boss,

No, I refuse to call you “Big Daddy”. I don’t care if the girls at Hooters called you big daddy I simply won’t. You are unprofessional and sexist. I apologize I wasn’t born with a dick, nor do I desire to have one. You have no clue how to run a restaurant. You do not put people with no experience on the best shifts, just cause they are your “homies”. You are white, which does not entitle you to have homies, and you are ugly and nasty which will never entitle you to be called “big daddy”. Guess what? It was me who miss rang the four shots last night. It was me… It was me. It was you who acted like the ass hole. Please mention one more comment involving the word “faggot” and I promise I will spend even more time in my head threatening to sue you, and not doing it.

An "About me"

Here is an "about me" I had to write for some writing I submitted, I got rejected on the fact I don't write "streight comedy" So I wonder is it crooked comedy? Or perhaps we live in a world where the opposite of streight is now gay, so perhas I write "homosexual comedy". In other words they didn't want what I had, but never less I entertain myself.

About me…

Lets just go ahead and say I am of average height, average weight and average looks. I am your average white girl, earning an average income living in the suburbs in Colorado. So right off the bat I’m sure you can see how I would superbly fit into your request for diversity.

I’m a 25-year-old Denver native, that is suddenly finding herself in the world’s most conservative city in the world. Yes, yes I am perhaps the newest addition to what I like to call Focus on the Family-Ville… other wise known to others as Colorado Springs. I live in a house that looks the same as every other on my street, or in the whole city for that matter. The closest bar is fifteen minutes driving, and it sucks when you get there. My new friends panic when, gasp, I happen to indulge in, yes, hold your breath, a THIRD drink for the evening! Yep you got it I can pound down more than three whole drinks in ONE night, that alone is enough to send this city into a frenzy.

I am one semester shy of completing my eight-year bachelors degree in elementary education. I’m not stupid just could never make up my mind so I figured, well shit, why not give my hand at messing up Americas youth for a while. I currently teach pre-school where I received my self-dubbed professional title of “Leader of Nose Pickers and Pants Wetters,” Or “Keeper of the Turd That Fell out of Some Kids Pants on the Playground.” So when I’m not monitoring shit production of three year olds, I can also be found bartending, where I took on the professional title of “ Girl Behind the Bar that Gets Life Advise from Middle Age Unemployed Man Who’s Wife Left Him.” So as you can already see my hands are all tied up being pretty important and all.

While not doing the things that either make me money or lead me in the direction someday to make money (you know because these days they pay teachers the big bucks) I can be found writing, wishing I could be writing, or thinking up great ideas to do with my writing and not following through with them. The majority of my writing is personal narratives, often about my formally exciting life or made up stuff, as life in Colorado Springs is not so exciting. Except the one time in the Library, when some lady told her daughters if they didn’t pick up their mess they “would never go back to church again.” As you can see, my life rules.

I could be thought of as overly pessimistic, or perhaps I am the opposite, where I just see humor in being pessimistic. So, other things you should know… I have two dogs, one that looks like Snufflupugus and the other that looks like the short bus (really I’ll send pictures). I cannot spell and my grammar sucks, as it appears I slept through the majority of elementary school. I have a terrible case of Adult ADD and secretly find it enjoyable at times. I cannot stand people that sleep with socks on, or the feeling of the ceiling of cars, it’s like nails on a chalkboard to me. I ramble sometimes… but usually only in “About Me” crap.

As far as what I’m submitting… One might appear to be political, and yes I can read, I know you said no political humor, however, it isn’t about Bush sucking or Kerry’s drunken loon of a wife, as I agree, those topics are tiresome. It’s just an open letter to John Kerry. Not at all discussing his politics, just a personal response to a very “personal” letter he sent me. The next submission is a letter to my brother on recently finding out we were Jewish… but just a little bit. And the third is perhaps well… what ever else I can find laying around. As for what I submit after that… it just depends what you want, how much I drink and if its beer, wine or vodka as they all seem to produce different results.

On a final note I have to admit, today I got a perm because I lost a bet. Well ok… I didn’t loose a bet, but who openly admits to getting a perm these days?

Who Stole My Brothers Booger and Other reasons I’ll Never be Married

It seems someone has stolen my brother’s booger. That or the disintegration factor on boogers is in fact much faster that I would assume. You see moments before I arrived to meet my brother at the local bar said booger was placed by my brother himself on the south side of the pool table, just to the left of the bathrooms and directly in front of the white trash playing on the other table. Upon my arrival news of this so-called “large nasty” booger was relayed to me, by of course my brother himself. I was ecstatic not only because of the actual booger it self but the chosen placement of it, which I must give full credit to my brother for. In my head I was thinking the sick thought of how I just had to see this booger. My brother rushing to my rescue offered to show me before I even had to ask.

Before I go forward with the explanation of the disappearance of the booger I must first give you some background on myself. I grew up along side my brother and my cousin, whose favorite word was butt-hole. I opted away from girlie Barbie’s; I traded Cabbage Patch dolls, for He-Man action figures and transformers. I didn’t own the patent leather Mary Jane shoes, rather a pair of high top red Converse. I even at one point tried to teach myself to pee standing up. Ask my mom or my brother, no matter how hard a girl tries, it just doesn’t work. I never had a pretend tea party. However we did play this really cool game where we’d fart in someone face to see how long the person could stand the smell. You should try it, it’s a blast.

So you can see how the booger in question might have intrigued me. It’s not that I have a specific obsession for snot, boogers or mucus. It’s more a general obsession for the totally gross.

I spent the greater part of my childhood and teen years trying to stifle this obsession. Trying to hide my roots. Trying to repress the memory of the smell of my brother’s ass in my face. I pretended to be grossed out with the other girls when my neighbor would pull down his pants and “Moon” people. I pretended, although deep down I wised I could be right there along with him showing my ass to the world. I was a boy girl. Not a Tomboy. That’s just stupid, no one even knows who the hell Tom is. I bought makeup and dresses, although I’m pretty sure I looked more awkward in them than Denis Rodman does. So I gave up. I threw in the towel. Accepted who I was.

Being much older now I often worry. Worry about who the hell is ever going to marry me. Girls that laugh at the dirty jokes boys tell, then one up them with something ten time cruder don’t make for good wives. Wives don’t fart, and they don’t search for missing boogers. Once I didn’t shave my legs for a few weeks just because I thought it was funny. Good wives don’t think this is funny. Unfortunately no matter how hard I try I do. So I might never find my brother's booger and I might never find a husband who can appreciate the humor in me looking for Matt’s booger. That’s ok though because I’d take my brother’s ass in my face any day over some stuffy businessman in a suit looking for a lady-like wife.

...and people wonder why I don't vote

I come home to my 400 sq ft Denver apartment after working a seventeen-hour day including school. I check my little twelve-inch high by two-inch deep mailbox and find something appearing to be a very important letter. It looks as though it is Fed Ex, although it is in my regular mailbox. I even have to tear from a tab off the top to open the envelope which is cardboard, much more important that a “paper lick and seal” envelope… inside I find word for word the following letter. Following the letter you will find my response.

Dear Katie L. Lauren,

I am rushing this message to you just hours after accepting the Democratic nomination.

Our campaign to end the Bush presidency and move America forward is now in its most critical stage. The Bush Republicans have wasted little time in trying to disrupt the strong momentum we gained in Boston.

But, with your immediate help, the powerful grassroots movement we have built won’t yield an inch.

If you want to help drive George Bush from the White House and win other critical 2004 contests, not is the time for you t act. By rushing as generous a donation as you can possibly afford, you can move our campaign closer to victory.

The stakes couldn’t be any higher—and your immediate personal involvement has never been more essential.

From reviving our economy…to restoring respect for America around the world…to ending Republican assaults on Medicare and Social Security… to solving America’s health care crisis, We’ve got everything on the line in these elections.

So, we’re pulling out all stops to break George Bush’s grip on the White House and win other critical electoral contests.

From this point forward, our campaign will be a flurry of fast-paced activity. Nothing is more important than you lending your immediate support to the Democratic National Committee’s efforts to build a massive grassroots organization.

We’re going to win this election by campaigning door-to-door, face-to-face, fighting for every vote right through November 2^nd.

And, when our remarkable campaign is over, the real story of 2004 will be the tale of how millions of Americans who came together and, with unmatched determination and spirit, wrestled power from George Bush and led America in a new, more promising direction.

It is the most important election of our lifetime- and I’m counting on you to help pull us through to victory. So are other candidates locked in tough contests against well-funded GOP opponents.

You and I have America’s future in our hands. Together, let’s drive forward to victory.

John F. Kerry

430 South Capitol Street, SE

PO BOX 96032

Washington, DC 20090-6032

AND NOW FOR MY RESPONSE

Dear John F. Kerry, (I included your middle initial because you included mine. I know you don’t usually use it, nor do I)

I don’t usually try and make a habit out of soliciting money from those I don’t know, but I figure if you found it appropriate being in the position of our presidential hopeful it can’t be all the wrong to do so.

I am rushing you this message just hours after beginning my junior year in college. And hours after receiving your letter. Coincidence? I think not.

My journey to complete my junior year of school and move forward into my career as an elementary school teacher is now in its most critical stage. The government has wasted little time in notifying me that once again I will not be eligible for financial aid. Mostly due to the fact I am a middle class white girl who has chosen to wait to have children or marry until I am better able to support large decisions such as those. Note I use middle class lightly as earning just over fourteen thousand dollars for the previous year is considered middle class enough to where I should be able to support myself, and pay tuition.

But, with your immediate help, the powerful grassroots movement I began to fund my college can grow, to more than just my mother and me.

If you want to help drive me towards publicly educating children of the future to the best of my ability and beyond now is the time to help. By rushing as generous a donation as you can possibly afford, you can help move me closer to victory.

The stakes couldn’t be any higher-and your immediate personal involvement has never been more essential

From paying my bills…to paying my tuition…to ending my credit debt and restoring my self respect…to getting rid of university health plan to a more suitable coverage…to ending my night job as a waitress… to eventually fighting for the rights of public school children, I’ve got everything on the line in this education.

So I’m pulling out all the stops to insure I finish this degree one way or another.

From this point on my education will be a flurry or faced paced activity. Nothing is more important than you lending your immediate support to Katie L. Lauren’s efforts to finish school in order to someday to fight for public education reform, and her goal in building a massive grassroots organization to fund her schooling.

I’m going to finish this degree by working double shifts at the restaurant, eating left over pizza, writing countless scholarship letters, (to which I will inevitable be denied based solely upon my large salary of fourteen thousand dollars a year.) begging my mother for money, and fighting for every penny right through May of 2006.

And, (when did it become okay to start sentences with “And” anyway) when my remarkable graduation is over, the real story of 2000-2004 will be the tale of me, my mother and John Kerry, who came together and, with unmatched determination and sprit, wrestled the power from the financial aid department, and led Katie L Lauren in a new, more promising direction.

This is the most important decision of my life time- and I’m counting in you to help pull me through to this graduation. So are other “middle class” white, unwed, childless females locked into the rules and regulations of financial aide.

You and I have my future in our hands. Together, let’s drive forward to victory.

Sincerely,

Katie L. Lauren

P.S. Please make checks payable to Katie L. Lauren. Or if you prefer you can leave out the L. It’s a little more formal than I prefer and with us both asking each other for money and all, I feel we can drop the formalities a bit.

P.P.S. Please excuse the stain on the blank form I enclosed with my response. Its left over pizza I was eating for the fourth day this week. Also please excuse the form is blank without a check or my credit card information, I’m sure you can understand my lack of funds to support your campaign. However if you do want suggestions on earning money for your campaign, I can suggest a few cheap pizza places to cut corners, and if all else fails my restaurant is always hiring bus boys and dish washers, I can put in a good word for you.

I must be a Jew... I thought Jesus was spelled Jeasus

Dear brother,

It appears we’re being ripped off, and in more ways than one. I was thinking of you today so I thought I would send you a “congratulations your Jewish” electronic greeting card. Can you believe after hours of searching I must inform they do not exist? I think we as Jews better give this a look into. There has to be some kind of discrimination suit we could pursue. Not only the lack of cards for old Jews but the lack of ones for us new found Jews.

However that is not the real reason I am writing, I’ve pulled some numbers together in my head. Now we both know I’m not the math genius in the family, so bear with me, but I’m pretty sure we’ve been fucked. If Hanukah is for eight days every year, and every year parents give their little Jews a small present each day then we've been screwed right in our Hebrew asses. I’ve worked the math on my account first. 8 presents I’ve missed a year for almost 23 years. Come somewhere around 184 presents. Lets say for arguments sake, each present is about thirteen dollars. I have so far missed two thousand three hundred ninety two dollars of merchandise. I for one would expect the same as Christmas that since our parents were divorced we would be getting two times the presents. Leaving me somewhere around four thousand seven hundred eighty four dollars. Think that’s bad big brother I'm just getting started. Each year for Christmas for about 18 years I received a 50-dollar savings bond from our grandparents. Now I like to think of them as good fair people, I don’t think they would have left us out because we were Jews, I mean after all they were too. So I figure we would have gotten the Christmas bond as well as a Hanukah bond. However I did keep in mind they were Jewish therefore probably would have been cheap if they knew. So I’m going to be fair and say the Hanukah bonds would have been around 30 dollars. I then come up with another five hundred and forty dollars, leaving my total around five thousand three hundred twenty four dollars. Oh and big brother I am far from done there’s more. Lets just say I have a feeling if we were Jewish and Aunt Nancy knew she probably would have liked us more, i.e. more like more money. Therefore I think its safe to assume she’d probably throw s a twenty here or there on birthdays and Hanukah. So say 40 a year, my total another nine hundred twenty dollars. Bringing our grand total to six thousand two hundred forty four. Now for myself I’m going to add another few thousand, being Jewish can get you scholar ships so I think its safe to assume I would have saved a few thousand on school. Eight thousand two hundred forty four. Also when you figure out your numbers please keep in mind, the money and gifts you would have received at your briss and your bar mitzvah. Also take into account you are a few years older or more Jewish than me in this case making your numbers higher. With all this being said, who’s going to ask mom and dad for the twenty some grand they owe us? I think you should, your much more of a Jew than me.

Love,

Katie Lauren

P.S. I think we should have Adam Sandler write us into next years Hanukah song, I was thinking, “Little Matt and Katie just found out they are brand new Jew, who the fuck knows you could be too.”

To Blog or Not to Blog

To blog or not to blog… now that is the question. I would be lying to say I haven’t ever blogged before, but it was a small blog, I quickly lost interest in. I lost interest perhaps because I hate blogs, or perhaps because I hate sharing my life, or perhaps I think no one would care. Mostly though I lost interest because perhaps I think people would care.

For example take the article I wrote not to long ago about vibrators. It was ok to share with a few friends, for a few laughs, but what about my brother reading it? Are sisters allowed to masturbate? Are future teachers? Are nieces, and granddaughters? I’m CERTAIN daughters are not allowed to masturbate. I am certain granddaughters don’t say the word fuck, and girlfriends don’t talk about poop.

I never realized until the blog what a closed private person I was. Private or paranoid one or the other I guess. In a way it seems easier to tell complete strangers your thoughts than to tell someone you know. But perhaps it is time to stop playing a character for each of my roles as a person. Perhaps now is the time in my life to just be me, and see what they make of it. So I bring to you Katie Lauren, uncut, unedited (obviously have you seen my grammar?) There is some old stuff I’ve written and some new stuff. I’ve had issues lately with getting anything decent on paper, so I figure I’ll add some old stuff to get me motivated.

-Lauren