I think I can see New Jersey from up here

I’m all for adventure. Well, controlled adventure. I suppose I’ve never been much for thrill seeking and living on the edge. Hmm, ok not true... I went on the Cyclone in Coney Island, but I try to block that memory out. But, we are on vacation, so I decided to throw caution to the wind and be all that I could be. Actually I just really didn’t want Jay to call me a pussy all week. Last year when it was just me and Meredith, the craziest thing we did was to not flip over on the beach chair, but this year Jay is stuck with us and doesn’t much appreciate just laying around all day. Apparently the effort that goes into the fine art of tanning doesn’t interest him. On his list of things for us to do: wave running, parasailing, scootering, dirt biking, and swimming in the little pond in Meredith’s dad’s complex. Since we immediately nixed that last one citing the probability of alligators lurking in there, we ended up agreeing to wave running and parasailing. Let it be known that I have previously done neither of these activities, so I think my adventure quota for the next couple of years has been met, if not exceeded...

There was absolutely no way I was getting on the back of Jay’s wave runner, and also probably no way I should have gotten my own, so Meredith and I decided to ride together. She’s been on one before so I let her drive first and I sat behind her and basically put her in a strangle hold. We thought we were the biggest bad asses going like 40 mph as Jay zoomed by doing like 60, standing up, waving, and doing turns. Yup, fully would have died riding with him. Died or been thrown into the ocean, or both. Well now that I’d done that, I was starting to feel like I was invincible. Parasailing, sure why not!? 1200 feet? 2 dips? Bring. It. On. It’s not like I don’t like heights or anything. Jay had $20 on me freaking out up there, but besides the fact that my feet were turning purple from the cold, I was a trooper! There’s still no f’ing way I’m getting in that little pond though...

Stupid People should be Shot on Sight

This one goes out to airport screeners and the Department of Homeland Security. I know we don't profile people blah blah blah, but here's a little story for you.

Once upon a Christmas, Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab boarded a plane in Amsterdam, originating from somewhere in Africa. His father had recently contacted the US Embassy with concerns over his son becoming radicalized. He had a one-way ticket, and no baggage.

Really? Should he also have been wearing a big red neon blinking sign that said I am going to blow this plane up?

Let's get our shit together here. There were a thousand clues that this douche was going to try to light his underwear on fire. Hellooooo??

The Daily Bailey

At this point, I am pretty much used to getting my way. Whoever said “you can’t always get what you want” is a damned fool. It helps to be annoying and adorable... And annoying, but 9 out of 10 times, I get what I want. However, it never occurred to me to heed the warning sung by the awesome band The Pussycat Dolls... To “be careful what you wish for cuz you just might get it.” They are truly visionaries. Yes, I may have openly wished to be free or that SHE would leave and never come back, but maybe deep down I didn’t really want that. I do tend to follow her around, sit on the bathmat and wait for her to come out of the shower, and attempt to look as cute as possible when I see her putting her coat on... Maybe I kinda like having her around... And now she’s GONE, and I am at the resort alone... ALONE! Well, besides the resort workers...

Since I seem to be stuck here by myself for an indefinite amount of time, I really hope these resort maids and cooks are up to the level of elite care that I demand. I apparently have my own room here, which is nice and all, but whose face am I going to jump on when I want to be fed in the morning? Is my food going to be served on the little white paper plates that I like? Am I going to be lovingly groomed with the special cat brush? Are they going to formally address me as Bailey? What about Scooter? McBoo? Mr. Scoo?? CRAP! I want my mom baaaaaaaack!! This is garbage! Where is she!?! Why has she left me?!? If you bring her back, I promise to never wish her gone again. Ok well maybe not never...

The goal is to have as many friends as possible

We’ve finally arrived in Ft. Myers. The trip never seems quite so bad in hindsight once we get here, but jesus that took forever. It definitely would have been faster to fly, but at least I can trust that Meredith nor Jay will attempt to blow up our car. It was nice however to get a good night’s sleep in a big fluffy bed and a real cup of coffee. The bed at Meredith’s dad's is amazing. Much more comfortable than the Comfort Inn. I have dubbed this the new Comfort Inn, and the Comfort Inn is now the Uncomfort Inn. The complete opposite of comfort.

Meanwhile Jay has been trying for days to log into Facebook to access someone’s email address, but had forgotten his password. Finally this morning he had a successful attempt and can see what the rest of the world has been doing for the past 6 months. He proclaims that it’s scary when girls you used to know contact you on Facebook after years. “Why are they contacting me? Do I have a kid out there somewhere? This chick has a picture of her and her baby. Does that baby look like me? I have like 15 friend requests, who are these people? Did I sleep with her?”

I really don’t even know what else to write after that...

I guess I just really wish I had two mouths

To say that no planning goes into the Road Trips I suppose is a bit of a stretch. I researched cool cities to stop or attractions on the route. This year the stops were Hilton Head Island, SC and Brunswick, GA and the Golden Isles. Of course, because of the car debacle and the fact that Jesus wasn’t born until the 25th, Hilton Head was not meant to be. I am fairly confident it will still be there for me to visit another time, so I wasn’t that upset. We did however decide to check out the working lighthouse I found in St. Simons Island, GA. Apparently you can climb to the top of this puppy, which is 104 ft in altitude... Up a narrow and windy staircase. So, we did. Me with my 4 inch heeled boots, claustrophobia and the fact that I fully forgot to bring any deodorant on this road trip. Once at the top, after my harrowing climb, we attempted to take photos of the 3 of us and Jay bobbled my camera and almost dropped it 104 ft to its doom which would have gone over superbly with my father considering the camera is 4 days old and my camera ruining track record. Luckily, he recovered in time to have not been the next thing to take a flight off of the lighthouse.

And he lived on to consume the “grande meal” at Taco Bell. The one people probably order for a family of 4. The best thing about going on vacation with Jay, is that no matter how badly I pig out, he will ALWAYS eat more than me. Therefore I don’t have to feel badly about myself as I stuff my craw with 3 soft tacos. I can look over, see him double fisting his 10 tacos, and almost not want to go into the bathroom and throw up. Almost.

It's better to not know where we're going on the way to where we're going

The truck driver road trips are notorious for having somewhere between loose to no plan whatsoever. We typically just start driving and worry about stops and stayovers en route. However, when you have what amounts to no plan to begin with, it’s difficult to have a contingency plan as well. So when faced with the fact that Meredith’s car had been in the shop for what seemed like as long as I could remember and would not be ready in time for Road Trip 09, we were forced to scramble. 27 hours on a train? A flight that could cost as much as one to the moon? Squeeze into Jay’s Infiniti 2-door? Hitch hike? Walk? We were in full on emergency mode...

The contingency plan is as following:

What: Road Trip 09 v.2.0
Who: Meredith, Jay, Jessica (the truck driver reunion)
Where: NJ ---> FL then back again
When: Friday December 25 (after Jay sees Santa)
How: Automobile (Jay’s mom was nice enough to lend us her car)

We met at the Cheesequake rest stop on the Garden State Parkway, took pictures of each other taking pictures of each other in the car, then drove around in circles trying to figure out where we’re going. Um, South? It’s Christmas day at 2:38 pm, we are still in NJ. Are we there yet?

We drove for hours in the fog and pouring rain and could have gotten off the exit and been in Oz for all I would’ve known since we couldn’t see 100 feet in front of the car. Meredith and I had eaten about 400 cookies, Skittles, and a bag of Cheetos and listened to “Empire State of Mind” and “Already Gone” 400 times. As much as I love Kelly Clarkson, I was really starting to wish that song was already gone. After we introduced Jay to the Jewish Christmas of Chinese food by stumbling upon what was probably the only Chinese restaurant in Virginia, Meredith decided that she was in a food coma and needed the car to be 90 degrees. Everyone fell asleep and I was stuck driving in a sauna listening to ghetto rap music, because I could barely see the lines on the road let alone try to change the radio or turn off the heat. Finally at 3am after Jay pounded some caffeinated sludge, we stopped at the Comfort Inn in South Carolina which is ironic because the sound of someone vacuuming at 4am is not something that adds to my comfort. Seriously are we there yet?

Don't Look a Gift Card in the Mouth

I think people at work nominate me to go to the recording studio to torment me. I sit there listening to voiceover recordings and/or recording them myself when all I really want to do is bust out into song in that booth. But I always manage to muddle through. Today, my coworker and I went over for a session and were told by a colleague as we were heading out of the office that we should bring back gift cards. Apparently the studio had gift cards to Starbucks, Lowes, and Barnes and Noble and we should bring back a ton of them. This sounds great. Who doesn’t love free shit?

We arrive at the studio, have our hour session, shoot the shit with the producer and start to put our coats on. Nobody has mentioned any gift cards. They’re certainly not lying around for the taking. Are we supposed to ask for them? Is that polite? Or acceptable? We start to head for the door, which is about 2 feet from the studio... In what seems like the slowest slow-motion humanly possible. My co-worker is trying to make eye contact with the receptionist in case he wasn’t aware or 100% sure that we were really LEAVING and maybe forgot to offer us some gift cards. I am dying inside, and can’t even look at her, wondering whether she’s going to come out and ask for them and how potentially awkward that would be. We reach for the door handle. So... We’re gonna go. We are actually going now. For real. Leeeeaving... Gonna head on out, for good. Not coming back. Yea, uh, well adios then. Sayonara. Cough, GIFT CARDS, cough cough. Ok bye. We are so not getting gift cards...

The Daily Bailey

Apparently today is my birthday according to my medical records from the vet I was taken to after I was captured (I mean before I was adopted.) I suppose everyone has one of these days and today is as good a day as any to turn 2. Or at least that’s how young the records claim I am. They must have counted my rings like a tree or some other sort of voodoo like that to quantify my exact age. But I don’t feel a day over 1... Even though I have been prematurely grey since birth. I am just a distinguished gentleman like that.

I wasn’t awarded a lot of time to compile an extensive birthday wish list since SHE just started mentioning this birthday thing to me the other day... “it’s someone’s birthday soon!! Who’s birthday is coming? Who’s? Who’s going to be a birthday face?” Well why do you have to be all oblique about it? How the hell am I supposed to know? If it’s mine, why can’t you just say that?! I’m a cat not a freaking super sleuth. So in the interim I’ve decided on world peace, to be set free, or a zhu zhu pet. And then whatever I don’t get, I’ll submit to Santa... Because even though she keeps saying I’m a good boy, I’m gonna need some proof. What??? We don’t celebrate Christmas? Add a Christmas tree to the birthday list.

Unfortunately I didn’t get any of the things I wanted. I bet none of you saw that one coming. Instead I got picked up and hugged, an extra hairball reducing treat, a decently sung (meaning other neighborhood cats didn’t come running) personal rendition of Happy Birthday to Scoo, and a self-propelled mouse on wheels. I suppose it could have been worse. She could have tried to put a hideous birthday hat on me, hired a singing telegram or a scary clown, or purchased me an ugly sweater that I’d never take the tags off. I guess I’ll hold off on being set free for at least another year...

Who Knew?

Currently there is a GIANT cannoli in my office's kitchen that I'm telling everyone was sent to us by the cast of Jersey Shore. Who even knew something this amazing existed? F cookie cakes, this thing is the situation right here.

Another Whopper from BK

It seems every year around this time Burger King rolls out a shock and awe campaign that has more to do with sex than fast food. Who could forget last year's infamous "Flame" meat scented cologne (see previous blog post Come on Baby Light My Fire) complete with vomit inducing scary big headed BK mascot that still to this day haunts my nightmares. I, along with my coworker Andrei who was the lucky recipient of "Flame" as a Christmas gift from me last year, were really hoping for the release of the next hit cologne in the line "Raw" or "Mad Cow," but instead it seems we have a Showercam competition. One in which I actually had to verify that I was above 18 in order to be allowed to log into the site. Guess this isn't exactly for the Happy Meal crowd...


It's like dirty reality Burger King Shower Barbie. I can pick what song she sings and what she wears, then I can watch her "shake her bits to the hits" every day. Because nothing makes me want to cram Burger King down my throat more than thinking about skinny people in bikinis. I can also enter to win a date with her or receive (above shown) Burger King shower kit as a consolation prize. Burger King rubber duckie, where have you been all my life??

Why the hell I would want any of this is still unclear to me, but then again I did rush out to purchase meat scented cologne last year so I am easily in their target market group of complete morons...

Quickies

Tiger Woods' pride of sluts is now up to 6. One of which he met at a PERKINS where she was waitressing. You are Tiger Woods and you can't find anyone better to cheat with than a waitress at Perkins? If you die of embarrassment in the next couple weeks, I wouldn't be surprised.

My dress is like new! I don't know what they put in this Amodex cleaning stuff, but it must be liquid of god. Every time I use this stuff I cry like I've literally witnessed a miracle.

You can now sign up to receive notification of blog updates by email!! Scroll down and type your email into the subscription box on the right hand side. Presto! Instant update.

Start Spillin

I have a not so stellar track record at my company holiday parties. I've been to 5 thus far. At the first one, I lost my camera. At the second one, I received my holiday gift, a $2000 gift card and was so paranoid from the first year, that I barely drank and guarded my purse with my life. The third one, I was so thrilled with the year before's positive outcome, that I got careless, drank my face off, put my purse down and had all of my stuff stolen. Last year, I practically strapped my belongings to me. And this year...

3-4 glasses of wine, one whiskey shot, one tequila shot, a couple jello shots that were laced with 151, and I find something that looks like a stripper pole, climb up there, start dancing and suggesting this awesome idea to other co-workers who followed suit. The amount of alcohol I consumed may not seem impressive, however, the amount of alcohol that was all over my dress... epic. Apparently I forgot that the point was to somehow manage to get the alcohol into my mouth. I woke up this morning to find my dress practically tye-dyed with stains like people threw drinks at me. Right now, I have applied every stain fighting substance I can think of, turned on the shower and ran cold water all over it like it was drunk, and am praying for the best. Please offer your prayers for my dress as well.

Pet Peeve #2

I am definitely far from being OCD about cleanliness. I give the clean my best shot and can forgive a little here and there, however, there's something about getting into someone's car and having to sit in the mess that their child left. I don't know about you, but I could have one baby or 50 (although that is actually impossible given time constraints) and I pray to never be one of those people who'd make someone else sit in raisins, cheerios, or unidentified substances.

Chinese Year of the Tiger

One need not understand one word of this to find it absolutely hilarious.



I bet he once got a fortune cookie that said "The time is right to make new friends... in bed"

Keepin up with the Times

I suppose it's about time that the old blog got a facelift and made acquaintance with all of the new social networking hoopla. At the bottom of each post, new icons appear!! I don't know what a Digg or StumbleUpon is, but apparently those are good. Now you can also post blog entries to Facebook as well as Tweet them on Twitter! You can also link to my Twitter page and request to follow me! Try not to fall over with excitement!

However, it would be really great if you experimented with one or more of the new buttons, since it took me all day to get them on there and I had to work with web code. My brain is bleeding, so I really hope you like it.

Top Ten

Tiger to be cited for reckless driving

Top Ten reasons why this is a great headline:

10) Like the poor guy doesn’t have enough shit to deal with at the moment.

9) There’s a lesson here for all of us. In the future when attempting to elude your crazy wife chasing your car with a golf club, please obey the speed limit and don’t piss off the fire department or Al Gore.

8) He’s getting charged by the police and this is one of the least damning headlines to come out about him all week.

7) This misdemeanor charge probably carries a fine that will clearly be less than his impending alimony

6) Poor Buick. After 9 years at 7 mil a year, they cut him loose and he goes and crashes up a Cadillac. Can’t even get any free publicity.

5) I suppose I could make a golf joke right now... Like, you think he’s a reckless driver?? He’s even worse with a 3 wood...

4) 4 points against his license is a cake walk compared to the countless fame whoring sluts about to crawl out and claim they boned him.

3) Lemme guess who’s pressing charges. It was the tree wasn’t it. F’ing tree. The hydrant went off quietly into the night with a couple grand for its silence.

2) Christmas came early for Phil Mickelson this year.

And the number 1 reason this is a great headline...

1) I bet his wife wants him cited for reckless use of his "golf club" shaft and balls

The Daily Bailey

I am thrilled to report that over the last 2 weeks, I have encountered tons of new and totally awesome stuff! Apparently this thing called Thanksgiving is inspiring, and boy am I thankful!

I have learned of new appliances. Something smelled great emanating from the kitchen area in our palace one morning. Definitely not the usual Lean Cuisine or boiling water aroma. It was something baking, like bread or... Whoa, that cabinet thing opens? And food comes out? Baked food goodness? Hold up a minute... Is that an oven? We have an oven? Didn’t even know we had an oven, since I’ve never seen it used before. And I'm more of a firing up the stove man myself. So many new things! Don’t even get me started about the washy spinny thing I saw at the resort...

I have sniffed everything at this resort place we went for Thanksgiving. Every last thing. I left absolutely nothing unsniffed. There is nowhere in this place that I haven't put my sniffer on... well except for whatever is behind that one pesky door that is always closed, but believe you me, I will get down there somehow, someday. There are so many more places to explore here than at the palace. I've been behind the catticade (cat barricade), I've been accidentally locked in the bathroom as well as the pantry, and I've been caught attempting to climb into above mentioned washy spinny thing that they call the washing machine. It was a valiant effort on my part.

I have tasted corn bread and turkey. The turkey was voluntarily fed to me by HER, so that I apparently didn’t feel left out at the Thanksgiving feast that everyone was feasting on except for me. I never get to feast upon anything. The cornbread... Well... I found that laying out on the counter and decided to knock it over and try to eat through the plastic. Why not? Clearly they forgot that old saying, “if you leave it out, I will try to eat it...” Actually I just made that up, but it's oh so true. So so true...