Only in the Mile High…..

As spotted by Norbert today, a dude riding his bicycle complete with a full bar on the back.  Only in the Mile High City, voted one of the drunkest cities in America, would you see s**t like this….


Celebrating Being An Obnoxious American!

It is amazing to me how fast time flies when you are wallowing in your own shit.  I am working on a post today about a recent trip to Denver – recent, as in SIX weeks ago.  I guess I got a little side tracked hunting down Pimp-Mobiles, my bad……

I wanted to give a shout out to Heather and Travis for letting me stay at their cute little place and for allowing me the luxury of using their car while I was there, which gave me the freedom to visit all you fine m*ther f**kers out there.  I am grateful to have been able to celebrate not one, but two new marriages among friends – although my therapist did point out that I was nuts for doing so…exact words, “so you went back to the scene of the accident and watched people get hitched?!  You like to ask alot of yourself don’t you?”  I told her, “well, I love my friends, what are you gonna do?” And then she continued making my martini.

As I sat and sipped on the wonderful cucumber and lemon vodka sugary goodness she concocted, I reflected on my visit with appreciation of how many of you are near and dear to my heart and how much I miss the s**t out of you guys these days!

Good to know that if I ever get arrested in Denver, I can make a collect call to any one of your cell phones to come bail me out – so glad that our local Law Enforcement system has joined the 21st Century, now if we could go back to the good ol’ days of actually having to remember phone numbers, then I would be able to ring one of you up.  But, alas, I can only remember how to search for your NAME in my phone, thus you can exhale a big sigh of relief……(and no, I didn’t tag the damn bench)

Now that I am older, I have learned that if we have had one too many martinis together, I will just pass out on your front porch (like this douche trying to make his good first impression upon meeting me at Jazz in the Park, big thumbs up on that one, dude….) instead of getting a DUI – that would be no bueno (isn’t my Spanish coming along nicely?)


If, however, you see me out on the dance floor with this woman who was indeed going to celebrate the 4th whether any of the rest of you bastards want to join her or not – do take me home immediately, throw me in an ice cold shower, and put me to bed!

This reminds me why I rarely go to Elway’s and why I do not want to be of Cougar age, any more, ever…..

Post Office A-Holes!

The guy who bought my old place reported to one of my old neighbors in the building, he is still receiving mail for me. I know it is normal when you move that your crap-tas-tic catalogs will still be mailed to the old address for eternity – I remember receiving mail periodically for a person who had lived in my unit some 8 or 9 years prior to me. However, I was led to investigate further when I received a notification from the Elections Commission that my voter registration was no longer valid. Upon contacting the elections office they informed they had received documentation that I submitted online for my change of address, but when the confirmation card was sent to the new address, it was returned as undeliverable. So, they mailed me a post card, again to the new address, to update my information. That one arrived, however – hence my confusion…..

I dug back through my old emails (Thankfully, I rarely delete the important ones. I mean, you never know when you might need to blackmail someone someday, right?) I had submitted a change of address request back on May 4th and received a confirmation with a tracking number. I went online for an update and it showed they are still processing it – TWO months later….so I called the USPS. They suggested I call the local post office – yep, did that, they don’t answer their phone, and they don’t have a voicemail system to pick up so that you can leave a message – why??? Because THAT would make sense and we don’t believe in logic here at the Post Office – we believe in chaos, insanity, and all things mayhem.

Thus, I called Big Brother instead. They opened up a case to investigate why the Capitol Hill Station in Denver sucks ass – a case, I am sure will never be solved, but I have a little confirmation number so that I can now sleep better at night. Since I had an actual live person on the phone – and that took me months to track down – I asked her to look into my previous case of stolen mail. She said that they sent me a form to fill out to retrieve the lost mail – yep, did that. She asked had I sent it back in – yep did that too (was this question really necessary or do you think she was just effing with me?). She said, okay well then the case is closed. Um… it isn’t dear…..I haven’t receive any of the missing items. So, guess what they are going to do in order to alleviate my angst? Open up a case! I have another case # now to look into the old case #. Maybe I can take both of them to Vegas and double down to win a trip to sleep on a cot near a roadside in Bangladesh! Who’s with me?!

It gets better – the follow up letter on the case of stolen mail came from the post office in a plastic bag with an apology on it that it got chewed up. They are sorry, but they don’t follow up on missing mail cases…..lesson from the universe: I didn’t need the shit anyway.

I did call again today to get an update on the change of address, now almost three months later – and it is still being processed. I would like to reason that they are reforming their transportation methods from car to horseback, but honestly – even if they walked my mail from the old address to the new address – it would have been there two-and-a-half months ago! How hard it is to forward mail from Denver to Littleton for fuck’s sake?! Damn you, Post Office A-Holes, now you made me go and drop the F-Bomb!

F U Laura! Regards, the United States Postal Service, Denver, CO

Soooooo Denver, you finally got your revenge from my previous blog post, via the USPS…..

Backstory: I had sent a package, on April 25th, to my mom before I moved out of my condo.  It was full of odds and ends things for her to enjoy, like the silverware I received when I got married, salt and pepper shakers too, chargers for the china set (that matched the silverware) I had also shipped to her the week before, perfume, a few books, a meditation statue, CPY t-shirts to burn the crap out of, some cat toys, dog shampoo, and dog spray – everything a girl could ever need was to arrive by May 2nd, right?

Wrong!  After much deliberation, the USPS (Capital Hill Station, Denver, CO) decided that she didn’t really need 3/4 of these things, and sending a box that weighed slightly more than a small child was just asking too much.  Hey USPS it’s called weight lifting, try it some time, it will do wonders for your life expectancy as well as your ability to do your JOB!  

So, they broke my box open, and emptied out the contents.   All of the heavy items were replaced much lighter items, placed back in the box.

Finally on May 9th, the box arrived at my mom’s house.  Immediately, she knew that something was askew, when the box was wrapped in tape, plastic stripping, and a big fat sticker on the top that said something about the box being damaged on May 3rd.

I guess it takes a week to empty and repack a box…..again USPS I salute your efficiency….it took me two weeks to pack up my entire condo I had been living in for 7-1/2 years….I am currently unemployed, so if you need someone to train your people on how to pack boxes, I would be more than happy to have you hire me on a consulting basis!  Maybe then, the Audit Service for the Unemployment Office would get off my ass then, too.

The label requested we fill out Form 3760 and send it on down to Atlanta, Georgia to the Mail Recovery Center – where all the lost and lonely mail goes when no one claims it.  Then, once a month they put all of your lost items up for auction where you have the chance to repurchase the items that they misplaced of yours – isn’t that so thoughtful of them?  🙂  Instead, I got on the phone with the fine individuals at their help center, and said, “Help! The mail I sent to my mother has been stolen and someone else’s contents have been placed in my original packaging!”  I had to speak to three different people before I finally spoke to someone who understood the issue, and opened a case with the Postal Inspector.  Next, I called a different number to request Form 3760, because when you call 800-ASK-USPS they can’t send the form, the local management office has to mail it out to you.  They also don’t house the form on their website, to assist with creating ease during this cumbersome process.

I would say this is government working at its optimal level, but the USPS is now privately owned….and I really can’t find a company to hire me right now?!  Maybe I need to start acting like a dipshit, too, and I might secure some meaningful employment right quick.  

Fortunately, my mother has a friend who works in the Jacksonville Main Post Office, so she got on her handy dandy little Facebook page, and sent him a message (finally Facebook has proved itself useful!).  He suggested opening a case on the Postal Inspector’s website directly (which the USPS keeps hidden at the bottom right corner of their webpage), and also with the Inspector General – yes, they are different.  I submitted complaints on both websites, and received emails back summarizing “thanks, we’ll look into it, but don’t call us, we’ll call you.”

Then, his assistant, Ms. Tammy, contacted me to discuss what items were missing from the package and what items they had been replaced with, so that she could call both the Denver Distribution Center, and the Jacksonville one, to see if any of these items were located in their lost and found (but….I thought all lost mail went to Atlanta).  She then emailed me a copy of Form 3760 (fancy that!), I filled it out and sent it back with as much information as I could.

In the meantime, Form 3760 arrived to both me at my new address in Littleton (Attn: Laura Briggs, but whatever), and to my mom in Jacksonville.  The request being to fill the form out (check), mail it to the recovery center in Atlanta (check), and include pictures of the missing items if possible.

Pray tell, who takes pictures of their mail?!

My mom then received a second envelope from Ms. Tammy with a label included to send the items that were not ours to the Mail Recovery Center (children’s clothes, little kids winter coat, Red Sox jersey, and a hockey jersey – all of which I am more than happy to get rid of), along with a handwritten note…..half of which was missing…..there seems to be a theme here.

Some kid is pissed right now, I am sure!


Ahhhh….the sweet smell of Denver!

It was so great to see all of you in Denver.  I am reminded of why the rest of the country thinks we are all one of two types:
1.)  Pot-Smoking Dirty Hippies, or
2.) Horse Riding Cowboys

We seem to live up to our reputation in full force.  Not only do we love our completely state legalized medical marijuana, but we decided to host an expo for it!  In case you hadn’t heard the Kush Expo is happening this month.  A view of from my former condo (sad face) highlights the billboard on Colfax of the Kush Expo – this is why the country thinks we are all actually just idiots, BTW.

If you really want to buy tickets (you know who you are), go to

And you really have to love the shopping center on the corner of 8th and Santa Fe that features one-stop shopping for the elitist stoner.  I have to give kudos to the owner of said strip mall – pot, donuts AND Chinese?!  I must have smoked myself into the third level of heaven (or was that Zelda? I forget now….damn side effects…no short term memory).

If this doesn’t have you convinced yet that we may need to realign our priorities, then maybe some lovely photos of the fashion you find people who are so high they can’t properly dress themselves look like…


I wonder if he is going to the Kush Expo?
This is the most high fashion red-neck we have here in these parts!

Unfortunately, I couldn’t get a picture in time of the guy walking down 13th Street in Denver (because I was driving, talking on my cell, and trying to dig in my purse for my camera, while flipping off CorePower’s Grant Studio – yes the WHOLE studio – as I drove by).  He and Sonic the Hedgehog hair-do and neon green zebra print pants.  Not only did I miss the opportunity then, but he had also served us drinks the night before at El Diablo with sparkly eye shadow.  I had no camera with me – two chances, both failed to achieve launch!  Grrrrr!