Marcia Brady ♥'s Davy Jones

Dear Diary,

Yesterday was the most horrible and awful day I could ever imagine. It was even worse than when I was at school and drew that picture of George Washington and then my friend Jenny wrote the caption "Mrs. Denton? Or a hippopotamus?" on it and I got blamed for it and then my first ever slumber party was nearly canceled! It was even worse than that time when Doug dumped me because "something suddenly came up" but I know it was because my nose was swollen from getting hit with a football. Yes, diary, it is worse than that. My one true love died yesterday. Davy Jones is gone.

I'll never forget the first time I saw Davy Jones in person. It was at the recording studio I sneaked into to ask him to sing at my junior high school prom. I was wearing my favorite knitted yellow poncho that Alice had made for me. You know the one? With the fringe on it? Oh, diary, it was so wonderful to stand there and watch him listen to his recording of "Girl." It was like he sang those words just for me:

Girl, look what you've done to me,
Me, and my whole world,
Girl, you brought the sun to me,
With your smile, you did it girl.

It was so neat. Or at least it was neat until that mean old manager of his yelled at me, "Who are you?" and practically pushed me out of the studio. I just wanted to speak to Davy Jones since I was the president of his Fillmore Junior High fan cub and he told me that if he was ever in town he'd be glad to help me out. I cried my eyes out after I left that studio because I thought I would never be able to show my face in school again since I had already promised everyone that he would sing at the prom. I quit crying though when I realized it was going to make my eyes all puffy and make me look like Jan does when she first wakes up in the morning. I'm pretty.

Well, since Davy Jones was an upstanding man, he heard my plea and showed up at my house later that day. He was wearing the dreamiest dark navy blue blazer with groovy stripes on it. I was wearing my favorite orange sweater that matched the pillows on my Mom's couch and luckily I had just put on a fresh coat of Pretty Pouty Lip Gloss. He gave me his record and then he agreed to sing at the prom on that Friday! And guess who he took as his date. Me!! Oh it was a wonderful night. We danced and he dedicated every song to me. I know I was the envy of every girl at the prom, but in reality that was the case even before I dated Davy Jones. I'm pretty.

Thank you Davy, for making the morning brighter
Davy, for making the night time nicer
Davy, for making a better world for me.

Thank you Davy, for making the winter warmer
Davy, for making the music softer,
Davy, for making a better world for me.

I will always miss you.

Love,
Marcia

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Dear Diary, It's Me Marcia Brady

Dear Diary,

Today at work was totally groovy. I absolutely love working for Mr. Haskell at the ice cream hut. I'm not supposed to eat any ice cream without paying for it but sometimes I can't resist a tiny taste of the Rocky Road! I'd better watch how much I eat though because I don't want to get fat like that cow of a sister of mine, Jan. She's so jealous of me. Anyway, today was much better than yesterday when my old boyfriend Doug came in and I poured a hot fudge sundae on his head. I don't care about Doug anymore. Today a new boy started working with me and he is totally dreamy. He has the cutest dimples and the curliest hair in the whole wide world. When I see him, I feel like I'm dancing on a rainbow and The Monkeees are playing "Daydream Believer" in my heart. When he first showed up for work, the first thing I did was run to the bathroom to apply a new coat of Precious Pouty Pink lip gloss and then I practiced my smile in the mirror. Too bad I was wearing my uniform of ugly blue pants today! Why couldn't he first see me in my terrific plaid mini skirt with my favorite ruffle shirt? Oh well. I went out and introduced myself to him. He said "hey" and I practically melted faster than the ice cream does when Mr. Haskell won't turn on the air conditioning. He seems like a great worker but I did notice that every time Mr. Haskell went to his office the first thing he did was eat a scoop of ice cream and make a call on the pay phone. He wouldn't tell me his name either, but I think it just adds to his mysteriousness. He told me to call him Bitchy Waiter. Sigh. Mrs. Marcia Bitchy Waiter. Mrs. Marcia Bitchy Waiter! I think I love him! He must be really shy because he never responded to any of my best moves. I tossed my hair, I giggled, I asked for help carrying a heavy box and I even asked him if he would walk me home from school one day but nothing seems to be working. At least I know he doesn't like Jan either because she came into to look at the schedule and all he did when he saw her was compliment her shoes. (Which used to be mine because Jan is the middle child and all she gets are hand me downs. Oh Jan. Poor Jan.) Towards the end of the shift, Greg came in to buy some ice cream for Alice to serve as dessert. At first, I thought Bitchy Waiter must know Greg because as soon as he came in, he went right up to him and told him hello. Bitchy Waiter couldn't stop staring at Greg the whole time he was there. He must have been admiring Greg's letter jacket or something. After Greg left Bitchy Waiter asked me all these questions about him and wanted to know if he had a girlfriend and what his hobbies were and what size shoe he wore. Finally, he was talking to me!! He does like me! I invited him over for dinner tonight since Alice was making her world famous meatloaf. At first he said he couldn't make it but then he asked if Greg would be there. Once I told him I was sure he would be, he decided to come! He asked me to call him if I find out that Greg won't be there though. Oh, Dear Diary, I think I am in love. He should be here for dinner any minute. I will keep you posted. (And Cindy, if you are reading this, stop it!)

Love,
Marcia

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Bitchy Waiter + Marcia Brady = LOVE

Today is August 5 and a day that we should all brush our hair a hundred strokes before bedtime, practice our cheer leading skills and guard our noses from flying footballs because today is the birthday of Marcia Brady herself, Maureen McCormick. In honor of this special day I want to imagine what it would have been like for Marcia and The Bitchy Waiter to work together at Mr. Haskell's ice cream hut. We know that she worked there very briefly until that bitch Jan came in and stole her job away from her, but what if... Behold, a page from Marcia's diary:

Dear Diary,
Today at work was totally groovy. I absolutely love working for Mr. Haskell at the ice cream hut. I'm not supposed to eat any ice cream without paying for it but sometimes I can't resist a tiny taste of the Rocky Road! I'd better watch how much I eat though because I don't want to get fat like that cow of a sister of mine, Jan. She's so jealous of me. Anyway, today was much better than yesterday when my old boyfriend Doug came in and I poured a hot fudge sundae on his head. I don't care about Doug anymore. Today a new boy started working with me and he is totally dreamy. He has the cutest dimples and the curliest hair in the whole wide world. When I see him, I feel like I'm dancing on a rainbow and The Monkeees are playing "Daydream Believer" in my heart. When he first showed up for work, the first thing I did was run to the bathroom to apply a new coat of Precious Pouty Pink lip gloss and then I practiced my smile in the mirror. Too bad I was wearing my uniform of ugly blue pants today! Why couldn't he first see me in my terrific plaid mini skirt with my favorite ruffle shirt? Oh well. I went out and introduced myself to him. He said "hey" and I practically melted faster than the ice cream does when Mr. Haskell won't turn on the air conditioning. He seems like a great worker but I did notice that every time Mr. Haskell went to his office the first thing he did was eat a scoop of ice cream and make a call on the pay phone. He wouldn't tell me his name either, but I think it just adds to his mysteriousness. He told me to call him Bitchy Waiter. Sigh. Mrs. Marcia Bitchy Waiter. Mrs. Marcia Bitchy Waiter! I think I love him! He must be really shy because he never responded to any of my best moves. I tossed my hair, I giggled, I asked for help carrying a heavy box and I even asked him if he would walk me home from school one day but nothing seems to be working. At least I know he doesn't like Jan either because she came into to look at the schedule and all he did when he saw her was compliment her shoes. (Which used to be mine because Jan is the middle child and all she gets are hand me downs. Oh Jan. Poor Jan.) Towards the end of the shift, Greg came in to buy some ice cream for Alice to serve as dessert. At first, I thought Bitchy Waiter must know Greg because as soon as he came in, he went right up to him and told him hello. Bitchy Waiter couldn't stop staring at Greg the whole time he was there. He must have been admiring Greg's letter jacket or something. After Greg left Bitchy Waiter asked me all these questions about him and wanted to know if he had a girlfriend and what his hobbies were and what size shoe he wore. Finally, he was talking to me!! He does like me! I invited him over for dinner tonight since Alice was making her world famous meatloaf. At first he said he couldn't make it but then he asked if Greg would be there. Once I told him I was sure he would be, he decided to come! He asked me to call him if I find out that Greg won't be there though. Oh, Dear Diary, I think I am in love. He should be here for dinner any minute. I will keep you posted. (And Cindy, if you are reading this, stop it!)

Love,
Marcia

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I Heart Marcia Brady

I had to re-post this one because it combined two of my favorite things of all time: the Brady Bunch and Paula Deen getting hit in the face.

Oh, My Nose

Y'all, I only have one more Thanksgiving post and then I promise I am finished. Thanksgiving was four days ago and by now we are all sick of turkey sandwiches, turkey pot pie, turkey and eggs, turkey soup and any other way you tried to eat that tired leftover fucking bird. But I think I found a new Thanksgiving tradition that I shall look forward to each and every year. From the cornucopia of traditions we find marshmallows on sweet potatoes and cranberry sauce slices that came out of a can, but I proudly suggest this new rite that we shall do the fourth Thursday of November from now on: throw a big fucking ham into Paula Deen's face. You have probably already seen the video and loved it like I have. You are probably also wondering what the hell this has to do with the Bitchy waiter. Well, honestly, not much. Other than there was food involved. And they were serving it. I guess, Paula was at a food shelter dolling out about a million pounds of meat that she was donating. They were having some kind of ham tossing party when one rogue (Sarah Palin) ham went AWOL up against Paula Deen's nose. Luckily for Paula, her face was covered in butter and grease from the Lard and Sausage biscuits she had inhaled for breakfast and the ham gently slid right off of her face. I'm surprised she didn't just catch that ham in her mouth and eat it like my dog does when I throw him a piece of Boar's Head. Thankfully, Paula was not seriously injured. She put a raw steak on her nose to maintain the swelling but she accidentally ate the steak and then whipped up a batch of peanut butter, butter and bacon bars. She laughed the incident off as pigs across America high-fived one another. The rogue (Sarah Palin) ham has not been seen since the encounter and it is assumed that it went into hiding and is shopping around a book deal.

My Brady Bunch obsession peeks out yet again as the whole pig in the face is completely reminiscent of the time Marcia Brady was hit in the nose with a football (also known as a "pigskin"). Marcia and Paula should totally get together and discuss what it feels like to have the shit knocked out of them by a piece of meat. Thanksgiving is officially over for me.

click here to see Paula Deen get hit in the face

click here to see Marcia Brady get hit in the face

Oh, My Nose!

Y'all, I only have one more Thanksgiving post and then I promise I am finished. Thanksgiving was four days ago and by now we are all sick of turkey sandwiches, turkey pot pie, turkey and eggs, turkey soup and any other way you tried to eat that tired leftover fucking bird. But I think I found a new Thanksgiving tradition that I shall look forward to each and every year. From the cornucopia of traditions we find marshmallows on sweet potatoes and cranberry sauce slices that came out of a can, but I proudly suggest this new rite that we shall do the fourth Thursday of November from now on: throw a big fucking ham into Paula Deen's face. You have probably already seen the video and loved it like I have. You are probably also wondering what the hell this has to do with the Bitchy waiter. Well, honestly, not much. Other than there was food involved. And they were serving it. I guess, Paula was at a food shelter dolling out about a million pounds of meat that she was donating. They were having some kind of ham tossing party when one rogue (Sarah Palin) ham went AWOL up against Paula Deen's nose. Luckily for Paula, her face was covered in butter and grease from the Lard and Sausage biscuits she had inhaled for breakfast and the ham gently slid right off of her face. I'm surprised she didn't just catch that ham in her mouth and eat it like my dog does when I throw him a piece of Boar's Head. Thankfully, Paula was not seriously injured. She put a raw steak on her nose to maintain the swelling but she accidentally ate the steak and then whipped up a batch of peanut butter, butter and bacon bars. She laughed the incident off as pigs across America high-fived one another. The rogue (Sarah Palin) ham has not been seen since the encounter and it is assumed that it went into hiding and is shopping around a book deal.

My Brady Bunch obsession peeks out yet again as the whole pig in the face is completely reminiscent of the time Marcia Brady was hit in the nose with a football (also known as a "pigskin"). Marcia and Paula should totally get together and discuss what it feels like to have the shit knocked out of them by a piece of meat. Thanksgiving is officially over for me.

click here to see Paula Deen get hit in the face

click here to see Marcia Brady get hit in the face