Monica Bielanko
That's What She Said
Just A Junk Drawer Dream
You can also find Monica's writing here:
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You Bring The Cupcakes!

How come when we were little, when it was our birthday, how come we had to bring treats for the elementary class? What's that all about? It's my birthday, little motherfuckers. My day! You should be bringing cupcakes for me.

If I drink enough beer to drown a toddler, but I always wait until 6PM to do so, am I still an alcoholic?

Engaged and Underage. An M-TV reality show that makes me want to pluck my eyeballs from my head and hide them under the couch until it's over. But I watch. I can't help myself. Engaged and Underage is the latest in a long line of programming pandering to the 21 and under crowd that the 21 and over crowd religiously watches. So I'm watching this 19-year old, married 3 weeks, talking about how her sex life has, like, totally lost its luster.
Like, it's so boring and stuff.
Are you thinking about bringing in a third person to spice things up, her friend, who looks like she can't yet legally drive, wants to know. It was bizarre. The concept of such corrupted youngsters reminded me of that Dave Chappelle bit about the baby standing on the street corner in the ghetto at 3AM:
Chappelle: Hey baby! Go home man, it's three o'clock in the morning, what the fuck are you doing out?"
Baby: I'm sellin' weed bitch!
Chappelle: Stop sellin' weed, you got your whole life ahead of you!
Baby: Fuck you, bitch, I got kids to feed.

Chappelle never tires me. But M-TV does. Fresh-faced 19-year old brides considering threesomes because their sex lives bore them. Shit. Actually, there's hope for married teens already bored with all the marital fucking. My sex life at 30 is much better (more creative and comfortable) than it was at 19. Sex just seems better when you're younger because you're hornier and touching someone's naked body is so illicit. Getting your boob grabbed by your husband while your dog looks on indifferently just doesn't carry the same drama as getting felt up in the closet at your best friend's make-out party when her mom could walk in at any moment. "Oh my gosh! Was it over the bra or under? Did he touch your boob? Bare skin?"

Was wondering. How come we have to turn down the radio volume to find an address? Do you do this? Crank your tunes and as you near your destination you turn down the radio so you can look at street signs and apartment numbers? What is it about the radio that inhibits our vision? Yesterday I was looking for an address. Because I'd just finished jogging I was still listening to my ipod. As I zeroed in on the coordinates I reached for the car radio knob and twisted it left. And then was surprised when Johnny Cash continued to lament about Folsom Prison. I spent a good 5 seconds thinking my stereo was broken before I realized I was still wearing my ipod. Which got me to thinking why did I need the music turned down to find an address? Strange.