tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86664890429956937522012-02-16T10:55:05.417-05:00incoherent ramblings from the confused.--j.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00125884808088850091noreply@blogger.comBlogger201100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8666489042995693752.post-54843107044928792542010-05-22T17:16:00.000-05:002010-07-21T20:53:24.566-05:00

I don't hate Starbucks, don't get me wrong. I like coffee. Actually, I love coffee. I'd have sex with it if I could, that's how much I love my goddamn coffee. Hell, most of the time, a good cup of coffee is better than sex. Coffee is more readily available, that's for sure. And there's no moral or ethical dilemma in paying for coffee. I'm always satisfied after drinking a cup of coffee. I can

--j.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00125884808088850091noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8666489042995693752.post-40690360281886204602010-02-20T17:43:00.000-05:002010-07-21T20:54:51.853-05:00

Okay, I've had it. I've finally snapped. I admit, I'm a bit of a grammar and spelling Nazi. Hell, sometimes I correct people when they comment on my blogs. I make no apologies for it, and if you expect one, then fuck off. However, I received an email today with the subject of "your hot". I shit you not. Your. My hot what? I would have replied with that question, but something tells me that the

--j.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00125884808088850091noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8666489042995693752.post-19414760175223116762010-02-07T13:33:00.000-05:002010-07-21T20:52:58.734-05:00

I love my dog, but there are times when she is so gross I don't know what to do. She happily licks out my other dog's ear canals, and eats used Kleenex out of the trash. She sniffs out all manner of grossness. She would fight for a morsel of vomit. And she delights in feces. Lest you think that just any feces would do, oh no - this dog is a feces connoisseur. She will only eat her own.I didn't

--j.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00125884808088850091noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8666489042995693752.post-43066835170370283182009-11-04T17:25:00.000-05:002010-07-21T20:49:52.544-05:00

I want anyone reading this to know that I'm really a nice person. People like me. Honestly. It's just that I have very little patience for just a few things: stupidity, things that just don't make any sense and people that act on impulse rather than common sense. That's not to say that I have a problem with impulsive people, in fact, I admire their ability to act, well, impulsively. I myself am

--j.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00125884808088850091noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8666489042995693752.post-6157973972531423562009-09-25T17:41:00.001-05:002010-07-21T20:53:51.413-05:00

Seriously. Are we done with the fucking pennies yet? Because it is time. The American public hasn't been using them for about a decade. They have become so worthless, that people give them to each other as a matter of routine. Get your change, pick out the pennies, and leave them in that "have a penny take a penny" cup there on the counter for the next guy. Need a penny or two? Well, there should

--j.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00125884808088850091noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8666489042995693752.post-27429568600452155492009-08-21T17:45:00.000-05:002010-07-21T20:55:51.599-05:00

I know that as a woman, I'm not supposed to talk about this stuff, but dammit, today put me over the edge. Poop. Shit. Dookie. Crap. There, I said it. Hi, I'm Jen, and I can't poop in the presence of others. I hate pooping at work. Despise it. Thankfully, this works out for me 99% of the time, and I'm not forced to do anything but good ol' #1 while at work, but sometimes it sneaks up on me. You

--j.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00125884808088850091noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8666489042995693752.post-75982641505233340852009-06-11T17:45:00.000-05:002010-07-21T20:54:36.515-05:00

Really? You're getting married? It's news to me. After all, you only call your mother to talk about it five trillion times a day. Loudly. Sometimes you call your sister and your best friend and have the exact same conversation again, this time adding, "well, my mom said..." You then seek out random coworkers and start the process all over again. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. Every fucking day. Look lady

--j.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00125884808088850091noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8666489042995693752.post-19281801396480530732009-06-06T17:14:00.000-05:002010-07-21T20:55:32.076-05:00

"When one door closes another door opens; but we so often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door, that we do not see the ones which open for us." - Alexander Graham BellWe hear this quote, or one quite similar to it all the time, whenever something bad happens in our lives. The breakup of a relationship, the loss of a job, whenever those things happen, someone will invariably pull

--j.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00125884808088850091noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8666489042995693752.post-11316292035091503262008-08-25T17:07:00.000-05:002010-07-21T20:54:09.435-05:00

"We had two bags of grass, seventy-five pellets of mescaline, five sheets of high-powered blotter acid, a saltshaker half-full of cocaine, and a whole multi colored collection of uppers, downers, laughers, screamers... Also, a quart of tequila, a quart of rum, a case of beer, a pint of raw ether, and two dozen amyls. Not that we needed all that for the trip, but once you get into a serious drug

--j.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00125884808088850091noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8666489042995693752.post-10305504656170404162007-02-18T13:09:00.000-05:002007-02-21T15:09:13.537-05:00

I remember when I was young thinking that one day I would grow up to be a beautiful woman who would have it all. That I would live that fairy tale - meet my prince and he would take me away, love me, spoil me and grant every wish I had. I outgrew that dream very quickly. Life and the mirror have the tendency to do that. Life worked very hard at teaching me that I was the only person who could

--j.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00125884808088850091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8666489042995693752.post-57792806348039376792007-02-06T15:32:00.000-05:002007-02-07T10:13:04.054-05:00

A NASA astronaut is being held without bail on attempted murder charges after police say she attacked her rival for another astronaut's attention at Orlando International Airport Monday. Lisa Marie Nowak drove more than 12 hours from Texas to meet the 1 a.m. flight of a younger woman who had also been seeing the astronaut Nowak pined for, according to Orlando police. Reports show that after U.S.

--j.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00125884808088850091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8666489042995693752.post-16759678551528473922006-12-06T17:37:00.000-05:002007-02-06T18:53:09.568-05:00

I have to confess something - unlike the majority of women, I'm not really much of a chocolate fan. I occasionally eat some Lemonheads, or other sour candy, but rarely chocolate. Every once in a while though, I'll get an intense craving for one particular type of chocolate candy, and I have to give in... Reese's Peanut Butter cups - perhaps the best candy in the world - to me, at least. Despite

--j.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00125884808088850091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8666489042995693752.post-41109338109584963272006-07-06T17:20:00.000-05:002007-02-07T11:27:20.104-05:00

Sundays at Casa del Jen are Fishin' Days. I'm a very feminine girly-girl, but damn I like me some fishin'. So, last weekend, I ask myself... Sunday? Check. Nice weather? Check. Nothing to do? Check again. It looks like a perfect day for fishing. In a brief fit of stupidity, I call my sister and invite her and her son to go with me. Great, she says. Come on down, I know of a Great Pond to fish.

--j.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00125884808088850091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8666489042995693752.post-78600613326329165802006-07-03T17:40:00.000-05:002007-02-07T12:22:07.949-05:00

I was taking a bubble bath last night (as I do every night), and I had a thought. I often have thoughts in the bath. This is not uncommon. Apparently, bubble baths are a right-brain activity. People often experience intense episodes of creative thought while engaging in right-brain activities. Steven Spielberg apparently gets some of his best ideas while driving in Los Angeles traffic. I read

--j.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00125884808088850091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8666489042995693752.post-53230335395078347182006-03-06T17:31:00.000-05:002007-02-06T17:32:37.449-05:00

You know, people have really been pissing me off lately. So much, in fact, that I'm starting a new blog series - The Most Annoying People on Earth. For some reason, my anger as of late has been directed toward celebrities who can't just be fucking celebrities.  Noooo... they can't just be happy acting or singing.  They have to have their own fragrance line or fashion label, or they decide to

--j.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00125884808088850091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8666489042995693752.post-40264955788635083752006-02-14T17:33:00.000-05:002007-02-07T12:23:23.714-05:00

I have always thought of life as being much like a bridge. We are essentially trying to get from Point A to Point B in our lives, although these bridges that I sometimes imagine are anything but straight. Life is always full of little surprises and we never know which way our life will turn in the future. Every bridge however, as most of you probably know, needs a steady way to support itself

--j.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00125884808088850091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8666489042995693752.post-44364148036053932006-02-06T17:35:00.000-05:002007-02-07T12:25:27.305-05:00

"...You can't always get what you wantBut if you try sometimes you might findYou get what you need..." The Rolling Stones may not have been spiritual gurus, but they sure got it right on this one. At times, I think that it's the soundtrack of my life. At the risk of not saying anything new or unique, sometimes getting what we want from life can be to our own detriment. What do you want? It seems

--j.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00125884808088850091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8666489042995693752.post-72075064853722647712005-10-12T17:22:00.000-05:002007-02-06T17:23:57.156-05:00

Okay, after the good dates/bad dates blog I posted previously, I had some emails asking if that was my WORST date. Unfortunately, no. But it's taken some time to put the story of the worst date EVER into words. Here goes...This here's the ballad of Jared Barnett and the worst blind date in the history of mankind. It starts with me complaining to a friend that all the guys I date are too

--j.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00125884808088850091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8666489042995693752.post-47817167432560566732005-10-06T17:27:00.000-05:002007-02-06T17:27:52.790-05:00

So, for reasons that are unimportant to the purpose of this rant, I found myself in a hotel Sunday night. Late at night and lacking anything better to do, I stumbled across the movie The Notebook on cable. Now normally, I avoid this type of movie like the plague. I have the same allergic reaction to this type of open faucet of tear-jerking swill as I do to any other book written by Nicholas

--j.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00125884808088850091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8666489042995693752.post-44306734796139488702005-09-06T17:29:00.000-05:002007-02-06T17:30:20.369-05:00

As I was watching a movie the other night, I casually remarked to a friend of mine during a dramatic scene that the downfall of most relationships is the indiscriminate use of the "L" word. Love. Ever since I said that last week, I've been thinking about it over and over. Sometimes my rambling oddball comments have a small grain of truth. I've thought back at the failed relationships I've had

--j.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00125884808088850091noreply@blogger.com0