Just for giggles, I’m dying to print up a tiny note that says “If you can read this, you’re fired” and nestle it between two other random pieces of paper, so the next person who’s spacing out using the microwave will see it and wonder waitaminute – what the hell?

I had a brief flashback to the company I used to work for, prior to this one. They would put “inspirational quotes” on the bulletin board to motivate their employees. So I’d sit there on my break, eating Doritos, staring at these priceless little word gems. They weren’t even original! They were always lifted from some fruity patooty book like “Chicken Soup For The Soul” or Oprah’s magazine. I would read them and think I just might hang myself today. Because they were meant to be uplifting but they had the exact OPPOSITE effect. They just annoyed the hell outta me and reminded me on a daily basis that my boss (aka, the chick who makes all the important decisions AND all the money) was dumb enough to think fruity patooty publications like this were cool. AND she thought they were awesome enough to record, regurgitate, and pass along to the rest of us. How many wrong turns did I take in life that THIS is the person making my decisions? This is the person steering my career? And why am I forced to think about this as I sit and innocently eat my Doritos? I’m supposed to be on break, dammit!

So thank you, Entercom, for being real. Thank you for using an employee bulletin board for its true intended purpose – to inform us how many gastrointestinal  anti-inflammatory remedies are available via company insurance when we inevitably indulge in the chili cheese pizza…..everything is right with the world. I love my job.

P.S. If you can read this, you’re fired.

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I stayed home all evening and waited patiently (read: pathetically) for trick-or-treaters. Got my hopes up (mistake number one) and bought FIVE BAGS of candy (mistake number two). I really should’ve suspected I wouldn’t have many, what with all the drugs and hookers and stabbings and stuff in my neighborhood, but eh, dare to dream! So there I sat. Like an old person whose wheelchair had been positioned by a window for those few precious hours of mandatory sunlight.

I waited. And waited. Hoping……….. for a knock at the door. (Felt like prom night the remix)

About two hours in, I finally got three little trick-or-treaters. Adorable! Two candy corns and a Mario Brother (or maybe two of Lindsay Lohan’s teeth and a Kardashian brother – couldn’t really tell).

I gave them the mother load – about a bag of candy a piece. One of the kids ran back to the car and yelled to his mom “THAT WAS THE BEST HOUSE!!” Haaaa…..yeah buddy – dat’s right. Tell your lil friends. You know where to come for the good stuff next year (I just realized that’s probably the same catch phrase used by the meth dealer down the street. Uh-oh).

So I settled in to watch DWTS. Tried to eat, but lost my appetite when there on my TV screen was death in its rawest form; Nancy Grace’s upper thigh.  With all due respect to Jason, Freddy, and Chucky – you guys ain’t got nuthin’ on those tree stumps. That visual haunts me. Even though Halloween is over, let us be vigilant in our fear. For Nancy Grace is like Freddy  –  she’ll get you in your sleep. With a judgmental viciousness, she’ll interrupt you til you pass out and she smothers you to death. I’m not kidding.

Jiggle-a-jiggle-a-smother-a-smother-a…..hold me. Next holiday, please.

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My nephew Benjamin was a lion for Halloween - rawrrr! Not scary, but definitely scary CUTE!

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So yeah, I’m upset that this happened, but my BIGGEST annoyance is that someone could actually find this funny. I’m a pretty open-minded person when it comes to humor (I submit as evidence my heroin addicted mouse encounter), but I don’t get the punch line in covering another person’s car with paint.

Here’s my theory in regards to people who genuinely take pleasure in the pain or suffering of another person: they’re scum. Teasing and joking are one thing, but once you cross that line into truly hurtful, you’ve relinquished your rights to fair and humane treatment from the rest of us.

There was this kid in my elementary school who used to pick on a girl with special needs, til one day she almost cried. So in front of everybody on the bus I pointed out that he had crooked yellow teeth and that his dad was an unemployed alcoholic. He acted shocked and hurt. He was like “I can’t believe you just said that!” Under normal circumstances, I would’ve felt bad. But I didn’t. I told him I could keep going (and I wanted to; his mom had three kids with three different guys – I’d been stockpiling slutty mom jokes since the first day this bunghole started teasing that other girl) but I held back. Thankfully he never bothered her again. Still, to this day I’m sure he hates my guts. Meh.

So if I find out who pulled this paint prank, I am SO going Count of Monte Cristo with my revenge!! I don’t know what I’ll do (oh who am I kidding – probably nothing), but it’s fun to imagine. Even MORE fun to finally have an excuse to sit on my porch all afternoon with a paintball gun. 

We knew this day would come….

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I also like to imagine the original lineup of Guns n’ Roses getting back together. Another fantasy that will never come true. Guns n’ Roses is my all-time FAVORITE band. I got a rose tattoo on my stomach the day I turned eighteen….. It’s an “Axl Rose”. I know. Stupid….played. But hey, I was eighteen. Could’ve been a locomotive. Could’ve been a November raindrop. Could’ve been a rocket queen. My point: could’ve been sooooooo much dumber. So leave me alone.

I got my GnR tickets for the big show at Mohegan Sun Arena November 20 and I am officially PSYCHED! I’ve been getting a little flak from other diehard Guns fans because I honestly don’t give a crap that Axl’s the only ORIGINAL member on this tour. Big whoop. He was the main songwriter – we all know this. And yes, it sucks ass that they can’t reconcile, but much like we are never again gonna see Meg Ryan’s original face, we must come to terms with these new developments and move on.

Sure, it’s not the same. But it’s still AWESOME.

I’ve been in a rock band myself, and I know first hand how things can go south between band members. Of course, this is different in my case because we made little to no money and had little to no success. The only way we were getting booked at the state fair is if we joined 4-H. But I digress. I just mean to say I have equal sympathy for BOTH sides.

I would LOVE to see Slash, Duff, Izzy, and Steven onstage with Axl again, but let’s be real. GnR is gonna kick ass no matter what! Because those songs are timeless. And Axl’s bigger than life (which is also why he’s a complete f%#king whackadoo). But I love him. I put Kanye in the same category: you’re crazy, but you’re a genius and I love you. Crazy/talented/genius. I’m lucky if I get weird/slow-witted/follower.

So I hope to see you at Mohegan Sun Arena November 20! I’ll bring my 4-H pig. Name’s “Wiggly”. You can pet him. And if you see me down front, I’ll be the girl spazzing out to every song, trying to use my radio station laminates to get backstage (and by “radio station laminates”, of course I mean boobs).

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Check out that photo. WHO THE HELL WEARS THIS TO A PUBLIC PUMPKIN-PICKING PATCH? (I like alliteration – can you tell?) Perhaps this girl thought it was the “pubic” pumpkin patch. Either way, when we can see your patch…..your shorts are too short. Tip of the iceberg as far as this photo’s concerned.

In case you’re wondering – this is Courtney Stodden and Doug Hutchison (the 51 year-old creepenstein actor who married the 17 year-old fruitcake degenerate wannabe country singer). They showed up at a Hollywood Hills pumpkin patch over the weekend, and proceeded to passionately make out and strike various poses. Shockingly enough, PEOPLE COMPLAINED! I know – prudes, right?! I mean, folks should realize that when they bring their children to a public family place, there’s a good chance they might see a horny couple fornicating.

After several angry parents lodged complaints with the owners, Courtney and Doug were told to leave. Booooo! Poor things. Now they are horny AND pumpkinless. I am troubled by this. They were OBVIOUSLY profiled, because no one else got asked to leave that day – all THEY did was show love. And isn’t that what the holidays are all about? Love? Gross, inappropriate, disrespectful to your surroundings love?

Courtney’s parents say people are out to get her because they’re just jealous of how beautiful she is. They’re right. I know I’M jealous. I wish I had such a vast expanse of mental vacancy that I could show up at a family-themed business, dressed like a porn fluffer, and dry hump my wrinkly perv husband while children watched and see absolutely no problem with this. That would be suuuuuper. Cuz thinking is SUCH a drag.

Lemme know how I can make that happen. Til that day, I’ll sit here stewing in my hateful jealousy. Drowning in common sense. Writhing in respect for my fellow humans. Poor Lissa.

Poor, poor, pumpkinless Lissa….

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Thank you, Perez Hilton, for giving me this photo. Ya gotta admit - she's an expert poser! Sommmmmebody's been practicing in the mirror!

Well, me and Rihanna (it’ll make sense when you see the video for “We Found Love”, released this morning). She was just declared “Sexiest Woman Alive” by Esquire magazine (hell, I’ve been saying that for years) and this is my beloved Bajan at her best – a gorgeous tapestry of art, sexuality, and music. It’s a bit pulp, but if you know and love Rihanna as I do, you’ll dig it….

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My closet has no less than EIGHT pairs of spiky platform stiletto heels – all over six inches tall! Not kidding. I’ve worn exactly two pairs. One for a photo shoot, and one for a costume party. So basically, I only care about being sexy if I’m getting photographed or pretending to be someone else. How telling. After each experience I wanted to kill myself and be buried in a fleece-lined moccasin. So why do I keep buying these things? Am I stocking up for the inevitable day my DJ career goes in the pooper and I hafta turn tricks to pay bills? Hopefully not. Am I afraid there’ll be another Northeast Pennsylvania flood and I’m VERY concerned about my heels being much much dryer than my toes? Do I think I’ll be accosted by Playboy photographers, begging to take my impromptu picture, but ONLY if I can prove I’m centerfold material by brandishing slut shoes and boycotting the usage of three syllable words? Or am I just crazy?

I think we all know the answer.

No chick needs this many stilettos. Correction: no chick WHO IS ALREADY 5’7” AND ISN’T A HOOKER needs this many stillettos! So I gave away five pair. I tried not to offend my girlfriend when I offered them to her – cuz how do you say to somebody “Hey! I think you’re trampy enough to wear these on a regular basis! Could you give ‘em the mileage they deserve?”  

But actually, she was thrilled. She’s only 5’2”. And doesn’t have any extra money for hoochie shoes – so there ya go.

A good deed was done. A closet was purged. And my ten little piggies breathed a humungous sigh of relief. But I reserve the right to whip out at least ONE remaining pair for Halloween (aka Slutty Girl Christmas). Cuz it’s supposed to be a scary holiday. And if you can think of anything scarier than trying to walk whilst under the influence of alcohol and wearing six inch hooker heels, fire away. Unless you’re Stephen King, you ain’t got sh!t.

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I swear to God sometimes my neighborhood is a testing grounds for sociological experimentation. It’s like “how many ghetto stereotypes can we cram into a five block radius?” What’s a normal neighborhood? Ten or fifteen? If so, I think we can crack thirty! Yeah! We’re number one!!

But now in addition to my enchanting human potpourri, I’ve got VERMIN! Yay!

I freaked out when I first saw this mouse Friday afternoon. I was supposed to be napping, but I couldn’t sleep knowing he was near me. I set four mouse traps and proceeded to lie there awake (with the covers carefully piled on top of me so they didn’t dangle off the bed) til I heard a *SNAP*!!

I ran over to check it. Sure enough, dead mouse. Happy Lissa. Kay. But then……ohhhhh then…..um….who’s gonna dispose of this thing? I texted my dad – “Daddy!!! I just killed a mouse in a snappy trap! When will you be over to collect him?”  Of course I was being foolish cuz my parents live in Michigan, and they’re obviously not driving to PA just so their nutjob daughter doesn’t hafta touch a mouse trap. But he texted right back “Ha – on my way”. Oooo. Smartass.

My mom texted a couple “Fred Bear” references (wouldn’t Nugent be proud?) and told me to just throw away the whole trap, mouse and all. So that’s what I did. I put on rubber gloves, used plastic tongs to pick the damn thing up, and threw it in the trash. Then I threw out the tongs AND the gloves and placed my trash immediately on the curb. I’m still having trouble sleeping in my house. Varmints gimme the heebie jeebies! I can’t shake the feeling that they’re setting up little villages in my walls. A whole colony of heroin addicted drunken slut mice. Ah well, at least they’re quieter than the human ones.

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What a fun Saturday! I got to spend my morning at McDonalds on 315 in Pittston for Child Safety Day! The Pittston Township Volunteer Fire Department was there with freebies for the kids, safety tips, plus the big firetruck parked out front, which they were kind enough to let us crawl all over. I LOVE this crew! They were SO fun! I told them I was going to intentionally torch something, just so I’d get to hang out with them again. They laughed……but I think they were just being polite…..(Memo to Lissa – jokes about uncontrollable open flames in the presence of fire fighters may NOT be well-received. Duly noted.)

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Hey Ma! They lemme drive the firetruck!....God help us all.

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Why am I flexing? Jackhole.

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McDonald's owner Pat Stella with her AWESOME crew!

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Me with my McDonald's peeps! Pat (the owner) went on the air with me today too - she's a natural!

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Me with the hot firefighters. I lied and said my camera didn't have zoom....everybody scrunch!.....closer......cloooooser.....haaaa...

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