Today's post title comes from perhaps the funniest spam subject line ever. I've been getting them all damn week...penis enlargement pill spam with subject lines like, "loser with a small penis" or "could you be any smaller?" Today's variant: what's up aiken If that was intentional? Brilliant. If I had a penis, perhaps I would actually read the email. But I don't so I won't. Meh. Anyway, I'm getting ready to leave on my loooong car drive, just as soon as my dear, sweet, put-upon assistant gets to the office. From a funeral. Her grandmother's funeral. Yes, I believe of the Top Ten Shittiest Things Your Evil Boss Can Do, guilting you into coming to work after your grandmother's funeral has GOT to rank pretty highly. (Ok, I exaggerate, she offered. She'd rather be in the office than at a funeral reception all day. So it wasn't my idea. Although I probably shouldn't have jumped at her offer like a kid near a big pile of birthday presents. Yeah.) So I'm all set for the drive. I've moderated my liquid intake, eaten a lovely and kind-on-the-stomach lunch, and gone to the bookstore for some books-on-tape so I won't get all... Read more →

HAAAATTTTEEEEE. Haaaaaaaaattttttttttttteeeeeee. That's directed at no one person or no one thing in particular. Just a nice, general feeling of loathiness. I'm tired. I'm still (STILL) on Vegas time. I've had a headache for four days straight now. Unbelievable deadlines at work. Memorial Day weekend traffic started on Tuesday. Clomid. Cicadas. Crazy Haiku Smackdown drama. (Yes, really.) (But don't even ask. Seriously.) Anyway, I need to pack tonight because I'm driving to Philadelphia tomorrow night. Like every other idiot in the whole blessed world. Months and months ago, I bought Phillies tickets for my dad and I, which is cool. I did not flip the calendar page, however, to realize that I bought tickets for EFFING MEMORIAL DAY WEEKEND. This is not cool. But what can you do? Welcome to Bigdumbassmoronville, population: you and seventy million...cars. And here I sit, staring into space, wondering what the hell I planned to write about a whole 10 minutes ago, because I have completely forgotten. Something about...hate? Maybe? Read more →

Dudes, I am sooooo tired right now. So you know how I always say you should probably do the opposite of whatever I say? I mean it this time. Except for what I just said about doing the opposite of what I said. Don't do the opposite of that. Or maybe you should. In other words, the advice column will be fairly short this week. Dear Amalah, First I want to say that I wish you were around when I was growing up, because Dear Abby and Ann Landers were on crack (but just part of the time). You ROCK! There is a supervisor where I work who wears an nauseatingly obscene amount of cologne. The stench is so strong that you can smell him before he gets out of his car. I believe his odor of choice is "Smell me and die but don't forget that I'm a REAL MAN" by Pepe LePew. He must marinate himself in it! Dogs wail, plants wilt and paint peels in his wake. However, the upswing is that you can smell him before you see him. That gives you time to get off the internet and look like you're doing REAL work. My... Read more →

Many insincere apologies, but today's Wednesday Advice Smackdown post will not be available until sometime this evening. Besides being shitstormingly busy at work today, I also left the majority of questions on my laptop at home. So d'oh. Speaking of the New Hotness Grand Duchess Carmichael Judith Light Machine, I have discovered that she is capable of ripping my TiVo'd shows from the TiVo and onto DVDs. Oh my god. All I need is to buy some connector whatzit video capture thingie (yes, that's seriously what it's called). And then burn, baby, burn. In other news, Jason bought me these. Possibly as part of a Bring Back the Cherries Theme campaign of some sort. What do y'all think? Time for a revamp? Time to see what the Judith Light Machine is capable of, graphics-wise? (And no, I will NOT incorporate a picture of my ass in those panties, so I don't even wanna hear it.) Anyway. Advice column tonight. Tell your friends. Spread the word. Set your TiVos. Read more →

Look! An update! Update! Update! Update! So I am happy to report that I am not dead, maimed, depressed, on hiatus, kidnapped or eaten by zombies. I did have a killer attack of writer's block though, followed up with a secondary infection of work. Work work work. Because believe it or not, I'm vaguely important at work and many important tasks depend on me. Like whining about things and the occasional memo. I wanted to update today, and even started writing an entry when the power went out. (And because that entry is lost forever? It was probably the funniest and most brilliant entry ever, never to be repeated.) But for real, I mean the power went OUT. Total blackness. Turns out some drunk construction worker drove a tractor into a transponder/transformer/transexual or something and knocked out the entire power grid. Poof. So we all waited around for awhile. I retrieved my soup from the microwave and tried to think of non-electrical ways to heat it up. I discussed last Sunday's whacking on the Sopranos. (Verdict: sad!) I texted some peeps I know. I carried out my recycling and inventoried my pens by the light of my cellphone. Finally it... Read more →

Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. My grades are in. I got an A in both classes. And it turns out I DID make them slut finals my bitches. Hardcore bitches. 98% on my Communication & the Law final. NINETY-EIGHT PER-FUCKING-CENT. The professor asked if I was considering a LEGAL CAREER. And THAT is how you make a final yo' bitch, people. And for the Negotiation & Conflict Management one? 99.5%. I missed a single half point, even though I thought I was making shit up left and right. It was the highest grade IN THE CLASS. Behold! I wrecked the curve and I am FUCKING PROUD OF IT. As for that last-minute anxiety-dream paper that I had to write in like, six hours, I got an A minus. And I am PISSED about that fucking minus. But anyway, I'm officially smart and officially all graduated. I skipped commencement (was last Saturday) as Vegas won out over boring speeches and a dorky cap by a very large margin. Too bad I wasn't smart enough to not lose money at blackjack. Maybe I should take a class. Maybe I should get my Master's. Maybe I should shut up. Read more →

Read Parts One, Two and Three right heah. (Hmm, I’m starting to get into the realm where maybe I should consider making up names for these people. I mean, I know there are septeventy billion Joshes in the world, but I prefer not to get sued by the one out there who knows how to Google and maybe happens to be a big lawyer or something.) (Although I know for a fact that this Josh is not a big lawyer, because I know how to Google. But more on that later. Plus, Miss Doxie will be my lawyer and she will kick yo’ass to the curb, boy.) Anyway. It was sometime during eighth grade that Josh asked me out. And unlike every boy I’d met up to this point, he meant it. He wanted to go OUT. On a DATE. And he CALLED ME. On the TELEPHONE. Swoon. My parents? Were not too thrilled. Josh was in ninth grade. He looked older than that though. He worked out. His bedroom was actually the entire finished basement of his house. He had a fridge down there. And couches, plural. His own phone line, television, VCR, etc. He was cool, cats. But... Read more →

This week: five more questions, five more semi-not-answers. I seem to be maxing out the funny at five questions, so if you don't see your question answered, there are a few possibilities as to why: 1) I couldn't think of anything funny right now. I will hold on to your question in case I do later. Check back next week. (And sorry if your question was of the "My hair's on fire, what do I do?" variety. You'll just have to wait.) 2) Your question scared me and I forwarded it on to the cops. Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you people? 3) Your question was really hard. I mean, whatever, I'm not getting paid to think that much. Softballs, people. Softballs. But keep sending your questions! It's not like the question queue is backed up for weeks or anything. I'm just arbitrary and shit. So send send send to amy[at]amalah.com. Subject line: Desperately Seeking Sanity. So after all that ado, on with today's life-changing advice! (Confidential to Michael: 1) Yes. 2) There's a 20% tax consequence for all early 401(k) payouts. And I'm not aware of any tax deductions you can claim for hookers. Sorry.) Dear Amalah,... Read more →

Well. Go on, then. Read more →

Yes, I am back. We took the red-eye back this morning, so my whole sleeping-eating-not-walking-into-things equilibrium is all kinds of effed up. But let's see if I can recap some Vegas highlights. Monday through Thursday afternoon: Work. Blah. Thursday afternoon through yesterday: Fun. Haaaaa. Jason flew in on Thursday, the workish convention thing ended, I got out of my suit and put on cute clothes, including a fluffy miniskirt that resulted in me being promptly manhandled in the casino by a very drunk and very sunburned shirtless man. It was a drive-by skirting. A crowd of decent-looking yet creepily-overly-involved senior citizens witnessed it and pointed out the skirtlifter to me. Jason marched off to confront him while I was all, "Oh my god, tussle in the casino! No!" But then I got PISSED and reported the jackhole to a nearby security guard who was very bored and very pleased with the prospect of a good skull-cracking. Jason came back laughing -- the guy already had a HUGE gash in his nose where he'd obviously been punched before, and the ladies he was drunkenly trying to mack on were NOT impressed by hearing of his skirt-lifting antics. The security guard was... Read more →