Here's something you might be interested in.
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Omaheehaw
[Editor’s note: Regi Rae admits that she submitted her blog mainly to draw attention to her videos. It was a good trick. Her investigative report on IHOP’s refusal to sell Smiley-Face pancakes to people over 12 bodes well for the future of Internet journalism.]
Post Date: July 17, 2007
Post Title: Supermarkets Aren’t that Super
Grocery workers. Every year, we watch them strike. Is there really ANYONE in this world who wakes up and decides that working in a supermarket is their dream job? If you’re reading this right now, and you or a pal of yours is thinking about sending your resumé to a local corporate market, stop it from happening. Stop before I’m forced to watch you wave your little cardboard signs in my face one to six years down the road, because it takes you a lifetime of checkout experience, mixed with many aisle clean-ups and grumpy hungry people who complain about long lines at 6 p.m. while the self-checkout lane is vacant, to realize that you’re unhappy. Maybe a release form should be attached to the applications informing applicants that they won’t make more than 20 bucks an hour because it is, in fact, a supermarket, not a stock market. Everyone needs to use the self-checkout lanes from this day forward. You see, pissy cashiers who act like they don’t want to ring you out will be happy at the moment because they won’t have to help you...yes, happy, until they SLOWLY realize they’re being replaced, and one to six years later they are jobless. Bet the self-checkouts won’t strike and wave signs in our faces, stepping into the street, standing in front of our cars, interrupting our Clay Aiken lyrics.
Post Date: April 17, 2006
Post Title: If You See a Woman...
...run away. Go. Don’t look back to see what she’s wearing; don’t stop to hear what she has to say. Just keep moving. Keep marbles in your pocket at all times and toss them to the ground if you hear her female feet clicking on the pavement three steps behind you! (Deep breath) AND FOR LOLLI-POP SAKE, DON’T MAKE EYE CONTACT! Do you hear me!? We have to keep moving...they lie, cheat, and tell damn good stories. Stay away! For this is the only way. ESPECIALLY the straight ones...for they are my weakness.
Post Date: February 28, 2006
Post Title: 11:52 p.m., Stuff Grape Up Nose
Sooo...I was thinking... Am I a broken lesbian? No, really, I hit on straight-ish girls and never turn my head at my own kind unless it’s an accidental force of gravitational pull.... Ever randomly stuff a grape up your nose when no one is around just to see what happens? [Shoves grape up nose.] Now, we wait...
Post Date: June 10, 2005
Post Title: Blow, Omaha, Blow
Sigh. Reasons I left resting before my eyes...Omaha was a well-needed visit...I continue to grow...Omaha is a portrait, still life with new structures...Miss it, hate it, love it, I’m part of it...Now I feel that Southern Cal isn’t far enough away. And her. I meet women each day...but not her. You don’t meet people like her, not ever. I’d still like to meet her. One day.
Post Date: May 21, 2005
Post Title: Sport Bras Shouldn’t Be Sported
I was standing in line waiting for that sweet coffee from my favorite coffee-shop girlie when I came to the realization that we as a society are not doing our part in making sure that women support their breasts properly. [Glance out door.] There she was, walking past the coffee shop, one boob and all. These bras are not only ruining, but offending, the architecture of the breast. I don’t know who is responsible for making such a terrible decision with fabric, but I can tell you that it sooooo wasn’t a lesbian. Granted, I never had a “training bra,” because my boobs knew how to be boobs from day one [wink]. But imagine how most boobs feel going through the training to be a good boob only to be shattered by [sip coffee]...never mind, it’s a man [blush].... Don’t even get me started on man boobs. I wonder if he’s single [sip].
Post Date: May 7, 2005
Post Title: Wish I Was a Fish
I woke up in time to hop in an editing suite...still wearing the clothes from the night before and, well, my fingers were glued together. For once in my life, I felt like Barbie. How did this happen? [Flashback.] I had a shot of Jagermeister...all right, it was a glass, a small one...just not as small as a shotglass [tee hee]. I was playing beauty school and found my nail glue while in a drunken state. They should really put labels on the glue about not using while intoxicated. Not that I’d read it while drinking, but I’d feel better knowing the words were there somewhere. As I squeezed the tube, glue ran down my fingers. My fish were the only witnesses around. Their mouths dropped open...and then closed...and then opened again...and then closed... I really thought they were in shock along with me, until I remembered, in my drunken state, Nope, they are simply breathing. And, well, since they don’t have eyelids, they can’t blink, leaving their eyes wide open at all times. I proceeded to walk toward them, showing them my hands, hoping that somehow they’d have a solution. They had nothing. So I decided to have a contest — a staring contest — they won. At that point I must have passed out.
Post Date: April 13, 2005
Post Title: New Goal
Note: I drank bubbles as a kid hoping to have a really super-cool bubble effect each time I spoke. Merrrr. Regardless of what Mama says, I think it would have worked had she not panicked, called the poison hotline, forced me to drink half a gallon of milk, and watched me puke up my five-year-old plan. Pfff.
Post Date: October 16, 2004
Post Title: 4:21 a.m. Hand Me Annudda Shotglass!
Went to P.B. in search of girls. No, no...WOMEN... 1:19 a.m., we venture to gentlemen’s club [wink], only to find that no such gentlemen live inside. 11 p.m.-4 a.m., talked to too many women about the importance of Velcro. Damn.
Title: Omaheehaw Was My Homo | Address: http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.listAll&friendID=4488696&startID=257437098&StartPostedDate={ts%20’2007-04-24%2023:31:00’}&prev=1&page=0&Mytoken=437A0B4B-233B-4511-9C031E0CE5E5556E500366
Author: Regi Rae | Blogging from: Escondido | Blogging since: 2004
Here's something you might be interested in.
Omaheehaw
Omaheehaw
[Editor’s note: Regi Rae admits that she submitted her blog mainly to draw attention to her videos. It was a good trick. Her investigative report on IHOP’s refusal to sell Smiley-Face pancakes to people over 12 bodes well for the future of Internet journalism.]
Post Date: July 17, 2007
Post Title: Supermarkets Aren’t that Super
Grocery workers. Every year, we watch them strike. Is there really ANYONE in this world who wakes up and decides that working in a supermarket is their dream job? If you’re reading this right now, and you or a pal of yours is thinking about sending your resumé to a local corporate market, stop it from happening. Stop before I’m forced to watch you wave your little cardboard signs in my face one to six years down the road, because it takes you a lifetime of checkout experience, mixed with many aisle clean-ups and grumpy hungry people who complain about long lines at 6 p.m. while the self-checkout lane is vacant, to realize that you’re unhappy. Maybe a release form should be attached to the applications informing applicants that they won’t make more than 20 bucks an hour because it is, in fact, a supermarket, not a stock market. Everyone needs to use the self-checkout lanes from this day forward. You see, pissy cashiers who act like they don’t want to ring you out will be happy at the moment because they won’t have to help you...yes, happy, until they SLOWLY realize they’re being replaced, and one to six years later they are jobless. Bet the self-checkouts won’t strike and wave signs in our faces, stepping into the street, standing in front of our cars, interrupting our Clay Aiken lyrics.
Post Date: April 17, 2006
Post Title: If You See a Woman...
...run away. Go. Don’t look back to see what she’s wearing; don’t stop to hear what she has to say. Just keep moving. Keep marbles in your pocket at all times and toss them to the ground if you hear her female feet clicking on the pavement three steps behind you! (Deep breath) AND FOR LOLLI-POP SAKE, DON’T MAKE EYE CONTACT! Do you hear me!? We have to keep moving...they lie, cheat, and tell damn good stories. Stay away! For this is the only way. ESPECIALLY the straight ones...for they are my weakness.
Post Date: February 28, 2006
Post Title: 11:52 p.m., Stuff Grape Up Nose
Sooo...I was thinking... Am I a broken lesbian? No, really, I hit on straight-ish girls and never turn my head at my own kind unless it’s an accidental force of gravitational pull.... Ever randomly stuff a grape up your nose when no one is around just to see what happens? [Shoves grape up nose.] Now, we wait...
Post Date: June 10, 2005
Post Title: Blow, Omaha, Blow
Sigh. Reasons I left resting before my eyes...Omaha was a well-needed visit...I continue to grow...Omaha is a portrait, still life with new structures...Miss it, hate it, love it, I’m part of it...Now I feel that Southern Cal isn’t far enough away. And her. I meet women each day...but not her. You don’t meet people like her, not ever. I’d still like to meet her. One day.
Post Date: May 21, 2005
Post Title: Sport Bras Shouldn’t Be Sported
I was standing in line waiting for that sweet coffee from my favorite coffee-shop girlie when I came to the realization that we as a society are not doing our part in making sure that women support their breasts properly. [Glance out door.] There she was, walking past the coffee shop, one boob and all. These bras are not only ruining, but offending, the architecture of the breast. I don’t know who is responsible for making such a terrible decision with fabric, but I can tell you that it sooooo wasn’t a lesbian. Granted, I never had a “training bra,” because my boobs knew how to be boobs from day one [wink]. But imagine how most boobs feel going through the training to be a good boob only to be shattered by [sip coffee]...never mind, it’s a man [blush].... Don’t even get me started on man boobs. I wonder if he’s single [sip].
Post Date: May 7, 2005
Post Title: Wish I Was a Fish
I woke up in time to hop in an editing suite...still wearing the clothes from the night before and, well, my fingers were glued together. For once in my life, I felt like Barbie. How did this happen? [Flashback.] I had a shot of Jagermeister...all right, it was a glass, a small one...just not as small as a shotglass [tee hee]. I was playing beauty school and found my nail glue while in a drunken state. They should really put labels on the glue about not using while intoxicated. Not that I’d read it while drinking, but I’d feel better knowing the words were there somewhere. As I squeezed the tube, glue ran down my fingers. My fish were the only witnesses around. Their mouths dropped open...and then closed...and then opened again...and then closed... I really thought they were in shock along with me, until I remembered, in my drunken state, Nope, they are simply breathing. And, well, since they don’t have eyelids, they can’t blink, leaving their eyes wide open at all times. I proceeded to walk toward them, showing them my hands, hoping that somehow they’d have a solution. They had nothing. So I decided to have a contest — a staring contest — they won. At that point I must have passed out.
Post Date: April 13, 2005
Post Title: New Goal
Note: I drank bubbles as a kid hoping to have a really super-cool bubble effect each time I spoke. Merrrr. Regardless of what Mama says, I think it would have worked had she not panicked, called the poison hotline, forced me to drink half a gallon of milk, and watched me puke up my five-year-old plan. Pfff.
Post Date: October 16, 2004
Post Title: 4:21 a.m. Hand Me Annudda Shotglass!
Went to P.B. in search of girls. No, no...WOMEN... 1:19 a.m., we venture to gentlemen’s club [wink], only to find that no such gentlemen live inside. 11 p.m.-4 a.m., talked to too many women about the importance of Velcro. Damn.
Title: Omaheehaw Was My Homo | Address: http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.listAll&friendID=4488696&startID=257437098&StartPostedDate={ts%20’2007-04-24%2023:31:00’}&prev=1&page=0&Mytoken=437A0B4B-233B-4511-9C031E0CE5E5556E500366
Author: Regi Rae | Blogging from: Escondido | Blogging since: 2004