Attacking Life with Comedic Jaws of Sarcasm. Recovering Dating & Relationship Blogger - Made it to Step 12 When I Got Married.

Month: August 2007

Tha Pao Stin Ellada

Translation:

Despite the fact that Greece is currently on fire, I am flying in to Athens tomorrow. Spending two weeks with my family is painful enough. But two weeks on islands sans internet connections and cell phones and avec women with mustaches? Oh boy. I’m bringing books with me to keep me from going stir crazy, and a bottle of Klonopin to keep me from killing someone.

James Joyce – Ulysses; Hemingway – For Whom the Bell Tolls; D.H. Lawrence – Women in Love; D.C. Noir – Various. Those are the books. If I finish all four, then you’ll know that I spent a lot of time away from the family, but more importantly, away from the Baklava. Christ, I doubled up on the running just in anticipation of all the fucking Baklava that will be shoved down my throat.

Besides not being funny, David Sedaris doesn’t do it justice. Greeks are fucking crazy. The Greeks have this phrase they say when a baby is born or christened. Na Sas Zisi! It means “May he/she live for you.” The irony here is that most Greek parents not only expect their children to live for them, they demand it. You all saw the movie. It’s sort of like that. It’s exactly like that. I remember the day my brother re-worded something my mother had said to him during an argument (an argument that spanned several years by the way and continues to this day) and he came back with, “So I owe you? For raising me?” My mom said yes. She doesn’t see anything wrong with that.

Growing up in Connecticut, everyone was either Italian or Irish. It was weird to have a background that is so rare. You don’t bump into Greeks every day. But when someone does, you will most definitely hear about it. “Oh, my doctor’s wife is Greek! She’s a nice girl!” Or, “Oh, there was a Greek guy down at the Dupont Market last weekend. What was his name? He had a funny name. Spiropolous? Do you know him?” No, you asshole. We don’t all know each other. But to a non-Greek, knowing a Greek is apparently as elusive but as claim-to-fameish as holding the winning Powerball ticket.

When I moved to the south, no one was Greek. No one was Italian or Irish either. No one was anything as a matter of fact. The south is where you find the people who have been in this country for so many generations that they can’t even trace their history back to one European country. Blasphemous! You mean to tell me that people intermarried? Savages! TI KRIMA! The Greeks didn’t even marry anyone from the next village. In church, my grandmother used to poke my father and his sisters (who I call Patty and Selma, not to their faces,) point at some other family and say “Don’t talk to them. They are from the next village!” My grandparent’s marriage was arranged. I think my grandfather was like 20 years older than her too. Score! Oh, wait, I guess that was scandalous. My grandmother was 17 when they got married.

I have never known anything other than that my grandparents all emigrated (cough, if you call jumping ship “emigration,”) from Crete and Andros. I am hoping now it will come full circle exactly why my grandparents chose to come to America. Though, I’m sure the stories have done it justice. I get it. We were poor. I don’t have to dine alongside rats and shit in a hole in someone’s backyard to understand how poor we were.

Life here was not a huge improvement over life on the islands in Greece. But here, there was opportunity – something lacking in a country historically torn by war and poverty; a country so geographically vulnerable that one day you may wake up to find your country was now occupied by the Turks. TI KRIMA! I love my family’s and ancestor’s relationship with money. They never had it, now they do and they stuff it in the bank when they get it and won’t part with it for anything. I’m the same way. It’s comical to me that there are so many people in this country who “came from money,” yet, they don’t have any. The American way. Spend spend spend. Why save? I mean really. You can file bankruptcy and someone will bail you out. That someone will probably be me by the way, and the rest of the immigrants who pay cash for everything and don’t incur any debt. Shit, my grandfather paid cash for his house. In 1930!!!

Greece is close to the Middle East. It holds its place in Europe only because Yugoslavia hasn’t let go yet. It is a couple hundred miles from Egypt. With hundreds of islands out there exposed in the Mediterranean, Greece has had to fight for everything. More irony, considering that most Greeks who come to the states end up fighting and hating each other. Just the other day my father started the story again about how the Greek Priest. Yessssss dad……..I already heard this story…….. like 100 times…….

Anyway, the quirks of my ancestry that I used to take for granted I am hoping to finally appreciate. Another tattoo will be in order upon my return. That is, if the fires don’t kill us first.

Someone keep an eye on the cops while I’m gone…okay?

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D.C. Cops Suck Ass Part, um…8 maybe? Still? Live and In Person!

I like when things I bitch about reappear in the news so I can give you updates:

Amy Winehouse: Apparently the trainwreck has canceled all her upcoming shows due to “health issues.” Oh? I didn’t know being an anorexic cracked out freak qualified for “health issues,” but fine.

Michael Vick: Officially Pleading Guilty. See, criminals always turn on each other. Once his boys started pleading out, there he goes. So we can stop with the “innocent until proven guilty” crap now, right?

The Police Meeting was last night: Let’s see. How can I sum this one up in words? Oh! I know, let’s do a David Letterman top ten!! YAY!!!

TOP 10 WAYS THAT LAST NIGHTS POLICE / CITIZEN MEETING COULD HAVE BEEN BETTER:

10) If the immediate response to “Where in the neighborhood do you live” question wasn’t answered with, “Oh, YOU’RE the blog lady.” Fuck me to tears RH, you are dead to me. No more cc’s on dog park emails for you, not because you told them, but because YOU FUCKING LIED TO ME ABOUT IT!

9) If the cops then didn’t tell me that RH specifically gave them the link and they have Velvet linked on their bookmarks because they are “checking for their names.” Boys, (and girls,) I am NOT going to publish your name unless you do something very very bad. Very bad. And utilizing your handcuffs on myself or my friends in a non-arrest situation that may or may not result in a hog tie and an orgasm doesn’t count because we like that sort of thing.

8) If officer, Juanita Graham, Badge number 3183 was there. I really wanted to see her in person. But, shockingly, she is not part of this district so not a lot is known by the V Street Station. (Makes me wonder even more why she’s driving down 17th Street by a known dog park to get to Shaw…) She is officially under investigation, however, so the other complaints about her MUST BE FILED.

7) If the smoking hot police officer on the loose wasn’t married. I already knew who I was going to set him up with until I spied the glimmer of a wedding ring. Damn. Fucking shit blinded out my corneas. The ring. Not the cop. Though, see “smoking hot” again and take your pick on the corneas.

6) If, because of item number three above, I didn’t show up looking like I crawled out of a gutter.

5) If they didn’t try to tell me that they don’t really eat donuts. No really. They told me. They said, “We don’t eat donuts.”

4) If there wasn’t “that guy” there. You know, the one in every meeting who totally misses your point to spout out typical agency documentation crap. Just because he looks like one of the Beastie Boys doesn’t mean that you won’t want to reach across the table and punch him in the face. Eleven times. (10 because he deserves it and 1 for good measure.)

3) If there wasn’t “that woman” there. You know, the one in every meeting who shanghai’s the conversation for their own personal agenda of lunacy. That person was not me. At least I don’t think so. It was the other chick. Yeah. Definitely the other chick.

2) If someone was there to hear the exchange when the officer told the Lieutenant, “She hates us,” and nodded at me, to which I responded, “Yes, I really do. I think a lot of your force is incompetent.” No sense in lying to the poor little fuckers.

and 1) If someone was there to hear them “joke” around about adding my blog to the terrorist watch list and to ask what kind of car I drive. See, police retaliation is what we all fear boys. That’s why people don’t file complaints and your officers wreak more havoc than Britney Spears in a bar with Cristal and an electric razor. What was that movie with Ray Liotta and Kurt Russell? Unlawful Entry? Yep. Gotta watch that again.

I actually didn’t go to the meeting planning to talk. But, once I was pointed out and named as “Velvet,” I couldn’t not talk. (Thanks for that RH, again, you will pay dearly, don’t let me see any blonde chicks with headbands exiting your house again or I will tell them that you’ve given half the neighborhood the gift that keeps on giving, and don’t think I won’t do it.) Fine. Identity revealed. It’s a small price to pay to clean up the cops. Though, irony will probably bite me in the ass. Now, some poor schmuck who I once maligned will find me out, break into my condo and attempt to kill me while I simultaneously dial 911, who, in this scenario, will actually dispatch the cops (unlike any other time you call them) only for the cops to realize it is me, and that I’m banned from any benefit of public service due to my ongoing series, D.C. Cops Suck Ass.

Oh, one more thing. Fuck you RH. In case you didn’t get that from the above.

D.C. Cops Suck Ass Part 8 Revisited Squared – The Investigator Needs Your Help & I Met the Sarge!

First, I despise linking to my own posts, but I have to. The Investigator who is handling the incident that transpired at the Dupont Dog Park is asking for your help. He left a comment on the last post in this ongoing situation with the following information:

URI : http://www.policecomplaints.dc.gov

Comment:
If anyone witnessed the events referenced in this post concerning the dog park at 17th and S Sts., NW, please contact the DC Office of Police Complaints at 202-727-3838 and ask for Investigator Curcio. Thank you.

I ran into the woman who this happened to, and she said that she had her meeting with Investigator Curcio Friday afternoon. I must admit, all of us were skeptical that a cohort of Juanita Graham was going to investigate this. But the victim was very impressed with how he handled everything and they are really pleased that they are being taken seriously. So, Investigator Curcio, we thank you for this.

Second, a little humor before I proceed into the next police diatribe, still related to this case. I’ve been alerted that there is more than one Velvet, stalking the streets and documenting police incompetence. I would like to franchise this operation and hire Velvet / Jimmy Justice’s in other cities. Any takers?

Finally, it seems that Juanita Graham, Badge 3183, has struck again. Last Saturday, she approached a man in the dog park who was alone and playing ball with his Golden Retriever and wrote him a ticket. When he said “Give me a fucking break,” she called in for backup. Six officers. SIX OFFICERS came to the dog park to help her. Are you people kidding? You still haven’t solved the Swann Street murder of a year ago, and this is how you choose to spend your time? Harassing civilians? After encouraging him to file a complaint, I decided to do a little investigating and visit the V Street station myself. My visit resulted in sending this letter out to the dog park email community:

All:

You may have heard recently or been a victim of harassment by a 3rd district police office with regard to your dog being off leash. After hearing that a woman was approached in the park by an officer who removed the leash from her dog just to justify writing a bogus ticket, then going further to accuse the woman of being a terrorist and not being legal in this country, many of us were outraged. Imagine though, that that same officer committed this offense again with another person in the dog park. The M.O. seems to be the same:

  • Approach the dog owner when they are alone and have no witnesses.
  • Exaggerate the dog owner’s reactions justifying the citation and/or call for backup.
  • Telling the citizen they must have i.d. and are not to walk the streets without id. ยท

In the spirit of full disclosure, the officer in question is Juanita Graham, badge number 3183. I believe she is targeting people, harassing them, and lying to justify her position. She appears to have a vendetta. Both victims I have spoken to felt targeted and discriminated against.

Many of you may know that I am no fan of the D.C. police. I have witnessed countless occasions where they block 17th Street during a.m. rush hour so they can go get coffee and chit chat with the workers in 7-11. I’ve had very unpleasant experiences where one officer blocked my car so he could go get breakfast, then when I asked him directly if it was his car (he was washing his hands behind the 7-11 counter) he looked away and would not answer my question. Anyone get the irony here that I’m trying to go to work so I can pay taxes to pay his salary and he’s blocking me in? I tried to file a complaint but, surprise, they had NO IDEA who the officer was.

I’ve been asked to attend the monthly police/citizen meetings. While admittedly I have not done this, it is because of my impression that the best officers show up and the problems are shuffled out or have that day off.

It’s enough. We pay taxes. We do not deserve this treatment. Today, I visited the V Street Station to talk with the boss of one officer Graham and other officers who may be on this rampage of harassing dog owners. My platform was simple:

I understand that we as dog owners are breaking the law when our dogs are off leash. I am not contesting that. I have an issue with officers targeting and harassing people when they are alone. The stories are the same, no one is in cahoots here, there is a problem with this officer. The dog park community is a strong one, and we are the eyes and ears of this community. Many of us are also on the lookout for crimes, reporting them as they happen, and with the exposure of being out with our dogs at least three times a day, the officers shouldn’t be making enemies of us. Finally, many officers have shown up at the dog park at peak attendance times to ask for information to help them solve their outstanding issues. If they continue to harass, we can suddenly stop helping the police too. If the dog park disbands, it will go back to being a haven for derelicts and drug users. Their choice.

Sargeant {redacted} is who I happened to speak with on my arrival. He listened as I made our case and had the glimmer of recognition and laugh when I said the name Juanita Graham. I’ve heard this is the standard reaction when this officer’s name is mentioned. That indicates to me that she is a problem.

Sargeant {redacted} provided me with his work and cell number. He is in charge of the area where the 17th and S park is, and told me several important things:

  • There is NO INITIATIVE on the part of the D.C. Police to ticket dog owner’s with dogs off leash. If an officer decides to do it on their own, that is their own business, but this isn’t a new program of any sort.
  • We DO NOT need to walk the streets with I.D. no matter what Officer Juanita Graham tells you or any other officer for that fact.
  • Sargeant {redacted} prefers that you speak to him about any issues like this before filing a complaint. Officer Graham is off today, but he is going to speak to her tomorrow.

If you have a complaint or issue, we all should follow the same procedure when we file that complaint. If everyone does something different, they may not recognize there is a trend here and get to the officer(s) in question.

First, call Sargeant {redacted.} His work number is {redacted} and his cell is {redacted.} He is incredibly reasonable and wants to solve this problem.

If you cannot get in contact with him or are not happy with the result, file a complaint. You may file through various methods.

  1. Visit the local station. V Street between 16th and 17th.
  2. Call Office of Police Complaints (OPC) at (202) 727-3838.
  3. Call the OPC 24 hour hotline (866) 588-0569.
  4. Online at policecomplaints.dc.gov
  5. Visit OPC at 1400 I (Eye) Street, Suite 700.

You may file anonymously and you may also file if you are a witness. You will be notified from both the department and the OPC when there is a result to their investigation. OPC only handles complaints of excessive force; harassment; use of conduct that is insulting, demeaning or humiliating; discrimination; retaliation for filing a complaint and the officer failing to wear ID or refusal to provide name, badge number when requested by a member of the public.

It is time to take the neighborhood back. Don’t let them get away with it anymore. File file file. Let’s get the bad officers off the streets.

If anyone has any questions, I’m happy to answer what I can and find out what I don’t know.

Obviously, if you need his name and cell, email me. The letter to the dog park folks generated some response and discussion. Someone, who has an ear in the community but who will not be “called out,” offered the following:

You can call me a Badge Licker if you want, but I have the official line:

There is an Internal Affairs investigation regarding that incident. Officer Juanita [Jones] is not assigned to Dupont but is in the 3rd District. She drives through Dupont to get to her lower Shaw area. Sgt. Harris does have Dupont. Yes, there is no crack-down on dog laws. Lt. Dignan tells me that officers are asked to only enforce them when there has been an incident such as a biting. He is going to have a talk with Juanita Grahams lieutenant.

And my response to that?

You and I will never see eye to eye on this issue. I know that. But you have just said something very interesting.

If that officer Juanita Graham is NOT assigned to our neighborhood, but she comes down 17th street to get to Shaw, then I’m even more concerned. On my stupidest day, I would never leave the station at 1620 V, come to 17th, and drive south to get to Shaw, which is EAST of 11th Street, stopping to write citations on my very circuitous route to work. This proves harassment even more so. The woman is driving out of her way to come by a known dog park so she can write tickets. Come on.

I’ll come to the meeting next Tuesday and I invite anyone on this email to come with me. But, right now many of us have zero respect for that department. They need to handle this issue, and quickly at that. In the name of the goodwill of the community, Officer Graham needs to be made an example of. And by “made an example of,” I do NOT mean put on paid leave for a couple months, as tends to happen with the DCPD. Swift and immediate changes are in order. Graham should be fired. The rest of the police should band together and invite the citizens to the meeting Tuesday by coming to the dog park and talking to us about it, and fostering the goodwill themselves. They have to earn our respect. They don’t just get it because they wear blue uniforms and carry nightsticks and sometimes respond to 911 calls.

So, guess who is skipping her favorite class at the gym to go sit in this meeting on Tuesday night? Grumble grumble. If my ass gets fat, I’m going to blame the boys in blue for that! “Remember when I had to skip Mike’s class…”

Stay tuned. It took 8 installments of this series, but we’re finally getting somewhere.

When it Comes to Compliments, Women are Like Ravenous Blood-Sucking Creatures, Always Wanting More, More, More! ~ Homer Simpson

I had another typical old-school Velvet style weekend. The “old-school” weekends are a serious reminder of how fun life can be. I got reacquainted with an old friend who was not available to me for the better part of a year because someone borrowed said friend and held her hostage! Okay, he didn’t so much hold her hostage as I just didn’t ask for her back. My precious autographed copy of And the Winner is…Brianna Banks is back in the house! Much like the old Velvet, that link is not safe for work.

Brianna Banks is hands down the best sucker of cocks in the business. Spit. Stroke. Suck. Spit. Stroke. Suck. Pay attention to the balls. Back to spit, stroke, suck. Deep throat. Her cock sucking repertoire is so unbelievably phenomenal that you really can’t look away. Sniff. She taught me everything I know and there is no reason she can’t teach you too. Err. If you’re a girl.

Aversion to, or poor execution of oral sex on either partner is just a shame. Watch a movie, write it down, practice, practice, practice. It’s important, and those who don’t do it probably don’t because they aren’t good at it. And they probably aren’t good at it because they don’t value their partner’s enjoyment in the sex act. And they probably don’t value their partner’s enjoyment in the sex act because they are selfish immature “I don’t suck cock/munch carpet” protestors. You know you’ve done well when you hear, “Wow, you’re really good at that.” We girls like compliments.

Anyway, so a few years ago, Brianna was stripping in Baltimore. I hate leaving the city, but I hauled my ass out to witness this event. My friend and I ended up being the only two girls there – surprise. We waited in line to get a picture and so I could just coo over her and inspect her boob job up close. Coming from someone with zero bi tendencies, she is every bit as hot in person as she is on camera.

Brianna is stripping and camera flashes are going off everywhere, so my friend and I decide we could probably sneak a few pictures. I snap some, get away with it, and snap some more. Next thing you know, there is some meathead bouncer on top of me and a bunch of guys who were formerly hanging out with us, now on top of the bouncer. I’m at the bottom of a man-pile and not in a good way.

My friend later said that when I walked out of that melee holding the camera still, she was thoroughly impressed. I had the choice to delete the pictures or be kicked out. They eventually demanded both. What the fuck ever. I pretended to delete a few, and we left. I love that when we’re walking out the door the bouncer says, “You can come back another night.” I’m like, “Dude. Look around you. You are in BALTIMORE. And I would come back because why?” We left. After a few minutes with photo rescue software, I recovered the precious pics, much to the delight of all the boys at work.

So back to present day. Friday night I only got three hours sleep because of that stupid movie and something important I had to attend to. I cruised through 18th Street in Dupont around 3:30 a.m. Much like I would never go to Baltimore again, I’m so sick of the bridge and tunnel people (nod to Steve Rubell for that term, may he rest in peace,) who think the D.C. is “soooo cool.”

The only reason the city is cool is because the people who live in the city make it cool. Write that down, burbies.

Speedracer and I mowed down some overly dressed ‘burbans in their sunglasses, blazers and cocktail dresses. I shook my head in disgust at all the drunks getting into cabs, stumbling for cars, littering the streets with whatever loot they smuggled out of the place. Christ, can’t you go back to your group house in Herndon and litter the streets there? Or do the soccer moms report you?

Saturday, I had early plans with some friends. I would have liked to revise the start time based on my delayed bedtime, but I wasn’t allowed. I was rewarded with the most hilarious sight though. One FreckledK, with a zero tolerance for taking bullshit (cough, in most cases,) manhandled a thief. She pulled the perp, a yellow labrador, about 3 feet tall and 65 lbs., by its collar and yanked a ball out of his mouth. I would forfeit sleep any day to witness that again. I’m no longer the only asshole at the dog park! Yay!

The moral of the weekend has something to do with balls in the mouth, but I just can’t come full circle with it yet. Let me watch the Simpsons and maybe it will come to me.

D.C. Cops Suck Ass Part 8 Revisited – Kicking Ass and Taking Names

If you missed my last post on what atrocity the D.C. cops have committed now, you can read that here.

Officer Juanita Graham from the Third District, badge number 3183, turn in your badge. You are a racist and a disgrace patrolling our streets trying to keep us “safe.” If I have a choice of protecting myself over any more of what you are doling out, I’ll take my chances with my pepper spray. The nerve you had to call a woman a terrorist and demand her green card for no reason other than that she was playing ball with her dog in the park is despicable. I would like to remind you honey, that none of us are from here, unless we can trace back to Native American roots, which few of us in D.C. are able to do.

If I catch you at 7-11, blocking 17th Street to read the paper and eat donuts, I will put your picture up here too. If you can harass civilians, then we can harass you too. Welcome to our world.

They Tried to Make Me Not Be Ugly But I Said NO NO NO!

I’ve never been one of the music snobs, scouring the net for the “next big thing,” talking about it on message boards and driving ridiculous distances to see some band no one has heard of. Most often the next big thing to me is boring. Give me some Metallica, Offspring, and The Cult and I’m good. When something new that everyone is talking about hits mainstream, I never jump on the bandwagon. (Harry Potter anyone?) But, I do want to know, why this person? Why did they make it big? So then I investigate.

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you my newest case study: Amy Winehouse – The ugliest chick ever created by the music industry. Why is she famous? I know some of you like her (well, you did throw her CD at a metrobus driver) but still. Why is she famous? Didn’t this disaster prove that this chick fucking sucks? Gee, maybe if I sing like a drunken sailor on morphine who just got run over by a truck, twice, people will think I’m dark, edgy and cool.

amy winehouse 2.jpg

She didn’t used to be so ugly. By genes alone, she isn’t cute, but still. There was a time where she wasn’t the poster child for anorexics who hide bird nests in their hair. I wonder if she looked in the mirror and said, “Gee, how can I make myself uglier? Here we go. I’ll put some various household items in my bouffant to hold it up higher, then seal it off with a birds nest. When the birds come looking for a new home, I’ll let them hover around me. People will think I’m all dark, edgy and cool.”

I suppose this whole image thing had to penetrate into the rest of her life too. A typical photo shoot for Amy Winehouse:

Photog: Amy, sing like you have a cock in your mouth.
Amy: I do have a cock in my mouth!
Photog: Then, pretend the cock is bigger. Yeah…that’s right. Now, pretend his balls are in there too. No, no, hairy balls! There! THAT’S THE EXPRESSION I WANT!”

CLICK!

amy_winehouse.jpg

She looks dirty to me. Not good dirty. Dirty as in, “I haven’t washed my hair in two weeks, I’m wearing the same underwear from last Monday and I’m pretty overdue for some waxing” dirty. Now this chick says she just wants to quit her career and get married and have babies? Christ. First, she is really a role model, huh? Work a couple years, then get knocked up. Even Britney Spears worked longer before she let the spawn of the devil enter her coochie. Second, ugly people should not have children. (See: Nancy Grace.) But, okay, if your reproduction means that we get no more “music” from you, then, I’ll take this one for the team.

amy_winehouse married.jpg

“When I get pregnant, I’m going to carry the baby here in my head!”

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