Back by Popular Demand

After a small, 4-month hiatus I’ve decided to return to The Birdcage in an effort to be less angry and more lovey. Plus, there’s one person who daily checks to see if I’ve posted anything and I hate to disappoint my fan.

It’s also possible that I forgot my username and password and have been locked out of my own birdcage for some time now.

But I refuse to admit it.


So, to begin I thought I would share this small exchange with you. By the end of the conversation, you too will agree: I am a jerk.

Please note: names and places of employment have been altered/removed to protect the anonymity of others. Besides, once “Coworker” realizes that I’ve shared this with the world, she will be thankful that I’ve done so.

Coworker | 1:41 PM
I’m golfing Wed with my rep from New York, my director and my manager. I wanted to look good so I went shopping which reminds me, here’s a capri story.

Tasha | 1:41 PM

Coworker | 1:42 PM
I bought a $50 pair (of capris) from Ricki’s clothing store, and wore them twice and will return them. The waist band stretches out too much.

Tasha | 1:42 PM
Wow. Good story. Short, but insightful and really engaging. I felt captivated the whole time I read it.

Coworker | 1:42 PM
I’m not done yet.

Tasha | 1:42 PM

Coworker | 1:42 PM
I was taking a breath.

Tasha | 1:42 PM
OMG. I am so sorry. Please, continue.

Coworker | 1:43 PM
Yesterday I bought a pair from Walmart for…wait for it….$12. Yep, and they are far superior in fit.

Tasha | 1:43 PM
Wow! Great ending. Worth the wait for sure. Total cliffhanger.

Coworker | 1:43 PM
I wasn’t done.

Tasha | 1:43 PM
Oh. OMG. I’m awful. Please, PLEASE continue.

Coworker | 1:43 PM
You’re not a very good IM listener.

Tasha | 1:43 PM
You’re right. It’s just that i’m sitting here on the edge of my seat waiting to hear ALL about your capri story.

Coworker | 1:43 PM
You’re a jerk.


A lesson in old

Legend: Nick – Tasha’s 14 year old brother; Alex – Tasha’s 12 year old nephew.

Nick: Tasha can we listen to something else on the radio? I hate today’s music.

Tasha: What? “Today’s” music?

Alex: Yea. Me too. Today’s music is awful. That’s why I listen to old music.

Nick: I know. I listen to the old stuff like Tupac, Biggie…

Alex: And Eminem’s early stuff…

Nick: And Mase…and Puff Daddy before he was whatever he’s called now.

Alex: I love all the old rap from the ’90s. Rappers today suck. And all techno music should go away to somewhere that no one can ever find it again.

Tasha: The old stuff from the ’90s? Seriously? I was listening to all that when I was your age.

Nick: We know. 

Alex: Because you’re old too. Like the ’90s.

Nick: And the rap we listen to. Old.

Tasha: <sigh>Damn kids.

Blang. Blang.

I seen you.

Lovers, never underestimate the power of the clearance rack at a Macy’s store. I can’t decide if their target market is rich old ladies or gangsta rappers. Either case, this baby is now a part of my wardrobe. All I need now is a pimp stick and some Ben Gay.

Everyone’s a writer

I always joke that everyone thinks they’re a writer. Especially people who ask me for stuff and then want me to change it all because they’d really like to see their name in there somewhere and could I possibly use the name of their brand 135 times in my 400-character descriptions for SEO purposes??


In any case, these keep popping up in my neighborhood and I think they’re cute so I thought I’d share. Enjoy your day, lovers. In fact you should enjoy every day. Life is too short.


New Year. New Complaints.

Helloooooo lovers. It has been a long time since I last spoke to you. Too long, some might lament. Far too long. And it’s not simply because I don’t love you, I’ve just been busy.

Busy hatin’.

Turns out blogging takes up a lot of time and since it’s really only something I do at work (just kidding, HR! Kiss, kiss!), I will make more time for it now that I’ve been cloned and my accomplice has been designed to do all of my work-related bidding.

Today’s complaint: Katherine Heigl.

I’m not sure when it happened, but sometime in between my shooting forth from my mother’s husband-hole into the arms of the doctor and that silly Grey’s Anatomy show , Katherine Heigl got really popular. And I don’t understand why. Her crappy movies are all the same! Ahem…

Katherine Heigl: I am a strong, independent woman who works a really good job, and I don’t need a man to complete me.

Annoying man: I am a man. I do REALLY annoying man things that Katherine Heigl hates.

KH: I hate you, annoying man.

AM: I also find you annoying, Katherine Heigl but I will do everything imaginable to ensure that our paths cross in totally predictable situations – like get you pregnant after a one-night stand or be a popular douchbag on your TV show or use your day planner that I found in a cab we shared and be there every time you bitch and moan about owning 27 bridesmaid dresses.

Editor’s note: it should be indicated at this point that my knowing any of the above is because I was FORCED to watch these movies. F!O!R!C!E!D!

KH: I still hate you, annoying man but I am slowly falling in love with you despite hating your annoying, but loveable charms…and McDreamy blue eyes.

AM: I love you too, KH.

KH: You do?

AM: I do.

KH: Me too! It took some time and about 90 minutes of non-hilarious scenes to make me see that you really have a heart of gold even if it is wrapped in a plastic douchebag. As a result, I will quit my high-paying woman-empowered job so that I may spend my days lowering my IQ so that we can be together forever. Finally, I am complete!

End story.
Also, end complaint. Except to say that I despise Katherine Heigl movies. All of them.

Happy 2012, lovebeans.

Bah Humbug

So this weekend, I made my way south of the border with my ladyfriend who shall remain nameless in order to protect her anonymity – despite our ridiculously long relationship that now spans 70 lesbionic years – to take part in a ritual enjoyed by many Canadians who like to shop.

Wait. I may have given it away.
Hm. We went shopping.

I won’t bore you with the details of how I bought a shirt that I am wearing right now that makes my “girls” look so ridiculously perky and jauntiful that I’m not entirely sure that they don’t belong to someone else and tomorrow they’ll turn back into the titties that are still really nice to look at and touch and…hm. Let’s just say I have great tits.

What the hell is this post about?! RIGHT. So, we end up at Macy’s and the first thing we see when we’re in there is this:


A freakin’ Christmas display, people. Say whaaaaa? Now I know that there have been commercials airing for the last couple of weeks for the holiday nonsense, but COME ON! It’s not even Halloween yet!! WHAT THE COOTER?!

Happy birthday, Jeebus. Several. Months. Early.

Headlines that make my head explode

Lovers, I have not nor will I ever claim to be very good at writing. I only do it cause a) someone seriously pays me to do it all day long like a hooker who’s super good at BJs and has the jaw muscles to keep at it for 8 hours at a time; and b) because I like to hear the sound of my own voice even if it’s not heard at all, but simply read.

Either way, today I found a headline that uses puns and bad grammar so tragically, that I had to share it and then complain about it before the vein in my head explodes all over my monitor and then I can’t see what I’m typing. Also, this is from a website I would never normally go to simply because I have better taste in music than this particular site will ever showcase. Ahem. But I digress about things that make me better than most.

Today’s VIBE headline?

“For The Stans: Baby Bump Bey Out With Hubby Hov Looking Like The MILF To Be That She Is”

I added the photo in case you had no idea who I bey talkin' 'bout.

Ok, WHAT?! First of all, who is Stan? And secondly, THIS IS AWFUL. Ok, I get it “Bey” out. Cause it’s Bey-oncé and her belly “bey” out and she “bey” with her hub-bey (aw yea, VIBE. You don’ missed that “bey” opportunity right there, yo!). And I’m sorry, but this headline suggests to me that Jay-Z is lookin’ like the MILF to be that he is. Doesn’t it??

GRRR. Can I please get a witness?