i eat the f-n pineapple now-n-laters

ryan and i have started netflixing "Lost". during disc 1, i was all what is all the hype about seriously this is kinda dumb and by the 5th dvd, i was all WE HAVE TO GO TO BLOCKBUSTER NOW because i couldn't wait 3 days. ryan noticed that after a month of being on the island, none of the women had hairy armpits. i don't know about you, but if i go for a week without shaving my pits, it looks like i am running a refugee camp for fancy hamsters out of there. HAHAHA.
so now that this is erroneousness has come about, i have had to convince myself that every one of those female characters had electrolysis at some point before they got on that plane. and i think about at what point in their life they decided it would be a good idea to pay someone a lot of money to electrolize that hair. and then i think about one of my friends who got her mustache and armpits done and she said that it felt like a bunch of rubberbands snapping you over and over and how it gets all red and you have to wait a few days. and then i have to rewind it because i just spent 10 minutes thinking about kate's armpits. also, i am becoming strangely attracted to john locke. he looks just like creed from "the office" and sometimes i will commentate, like i will say something like, "oooo creed gettin crayzay" and ryan will be all, "his name is not creed! it's locke! GOD." regardless, i like creed. he is kind of sexy in a weird don't-ever-touch-me kind of way.


best thing i've heard all week:

no, way! i am not letting you guys hang around to clean up my amniotic fluid!

best text i've gotten all week:

tell him to shut his fat old trap before i come over there and shut it for him!

1 scoop of creamy mashed potatoes, 4 peas

This one time my friend's mom worked in Human Resources and one of the secretaries was getting sexually harassed by this boss guy. So the secretary finally had enough and made a complaint and when asked to provide detail, she explained that the boss had asked her if she'd like to go fishing for a big trouser trout and my friend's mom said, "Is that a West Virginia fish?"

That reminds me, the other day when I was at a going away lunch for my very Christian, very sweet boss, he was sad about the fact that they won't have James Coney Island's where he is going. Then he said, "I like hotdogs. I like to call them tube steaks. I love eating tube steaks." Apparently, I was the only one at the table who'd heard the Wanna-eat-my-tube-steak joke enough times to quit saying yes. I laughed with my mouth closed. I didn't think a baby carrot could fit through my nose like that.

Thank you for being a friend

Thanks, Mom, for telling me about someecards.com.

Back when I got my phace surgery, I stayed with Stephanie. Since I couldn’t see and had to be on my back for three days straight, she looked upon this as an opportunity to brainwash me into becoming a fan of The Golden Girls. Remember that, Stephanie? That 72 hour marathon of Golden Girls DVDs that I convinced your boyfriend to buy you for Christmas because I thought I was being a good friend and then you turned around and used it against me? Remember how I was moaning and begging you to change the channel and you just kept piling the frozen food bags on my face until I was an inaudible pile of vegetable medley? Remember how your room automatically started to smell like mothballs and stale cookies baked with cathairs? And then! In a dramatic turn of events, remember how I developed Stockholm Syndrome and kind of started liking/identifying with that old slutty one? Well, that was 2 years ago next month and I tell you what. I am over it. I refuse to like them, alright? Then I got in a domestic altercation (which basically consisted of me period-ing out on my boyfriend) [Note to boyfriend: Don’t think because I admitted I was on my period means you were right] so I spent the night at your house a couple of weeks ago and, of course, it had to be the day Estelle Getty died and we went to sleep with a Golden Girls DVD looping through the night. By the third episode I wasn’t even begging for you to violently mash several bags of frozen peas on my face and head. Good times, my friend. Good times.

omg...homegirl is wearing culottes

This week, I earned my certificate for Sea Survival, Helicopter Safety & Egress. I had to take the course because I may be visiting some offshore platforms on my trip to Angola in October and if they tump the helicopter over in the water, they don’t want me flailing about frantically in the diluted solutions of urine and doodoofeces that will be shooting from my body like a sneezy whale nostril and getting on everyone else. What they don’t know is that I am calm and collected in all emergencies. Like one time, at prom, I forgot to pull my thong down and I wound up peeing on it so I didn’t panic. I just ripped the sides and went back to the dance sans panties like it was no big deal. It’s all part of being Crystal.

The guy that was conducting the course was an older fellow who, in his free time, probably listens to Phish and smokes weed and surfs and entertains his friends with stories like this: “She said huh? And I was like, Really?, and she was like yeah and I was like no way! and she was like uh-huh and I was like you’re not serious! and she was like yeah and I was like Got any Doritos?” I would talk more shit, but I think he had something to do with saving my life that day so I guess I’ll stop here. Even though he was a total jerkface about it.

They drug us out to the pool and we got in and learned how to jump and use an immersion suit and stuff like that. There was also this metal cage waiting for us. It had 2 seats on the inside and one window next to each seat. I volunteered to go first because none of the guys were stepping up. My partner was this guy who spent half the day with a large and in charge booger on his face that no one would tell him about. So the instructors gave us helmets in which they had blacked out the face shields with duct tape. I almost asked if he needed an extra helmet for the booger, but his booger had a good attitude and seemed pretty resilient. We got in the cage and put on shoulder harnesses and lap belts, secured the helmets. Then they turned the cage upside down in the water. We had to wait 8 seconds, the hippie guy tapped on the cage and then we could undo our seatbelts and swim out of our respective windows. The second time, I had to follow my partner out of his window. The third time, he followed me out of my window. Easy, right? Being flipped upside down underwater and blind is completely disorienting. Your top becomes your bottom. Your right and left stay the same, but it doesn’t feel like it. The first time went off beautifully. The second time, I had to follow Chris and his booger out and it went terribly wrong. I waited my 8 seconds hanging like a bat in the dark and then I gave him an extra 3 to get out ahead of me. I unclasped my belt and felt for his chair, then felt for the window and then pushed myself hard and started swimming where I thought was “up”, but somehow, I wound up back in the cage and I couldn’t find my way out. I was terrified. Everywhere I swam I ran into a wall and nobody was coming to save me. My chest started doing that weird thing where it is involuntarily trying to suck in air only I wouldn’t open my mouth. I finally got out somehow. I have a feeling that old hippie guy was just going to wait for me to pass out so I would be easier to remove from the cage and if I was dead, he would get to use his brand! new! defibrillator! that he was so proud of. I couldn’t hold my breath any longer and wound up chugging and inhaling a lot of water. And then he promptly made fun of me. It was awesome. And then he made me get back in and do it over again. Let me tell you that holding your breath for 15 seconds is really hard even when you are not out of breath from ALMOST DYING.

I know that many of you are ultimately concerned about the fate of Chris’ giant booger. It was gone by lunch.

P.S. What is up with the sudden emergence of culottes? I counted three at my work today.

You are a china shop and I am a bull; You are really good food and I am full

1. Thank you everybody for the condolences on my parents splitting up. That’s pretty cool of y’all. I’m ok with it as long as both of them are ok. I was upset about it at first, but then… I don’t live at home anymore so it isn’t like I have to keep turning up the TV when “All My Chidren” is on. So I am ok. I just wish they both wanted the same thing. That’s all. As long as what they want doesn’t interfere with my “All My Chidren”.

2. The Alkaline Trio is coming to Houston in October. This time I am going to wear Velcro panties and try to fling and stick myself to the bassist’s fuzzy neck cheese and then try to simulate vigorous sex acts with it until security is able to pry me away.

3. My friend, Kat, met this IT guy while dancing and he was very shy and nerdy and white and then her friend left her there so she had to get a ride back to her car with this guy and when they got in the car, he turned up TuPac and started jamming out and then lifted his polo shirt sleeve to reveal a huge Tupac tattoo and then he grabbed her arm and started swinging it all over the place while repeatedly encouraging her to "Rock the Pac!". You just never know about some people.
When I was single, I got some weirdos, but nothing like that. Although, if I did meet a guy with my same level of passion for Mr. Shakur, I would have to have to ask him to muhrry me immediately.

4. Look what I found at Lowe's! When good marketing ideas go bad:

i will follow anyone that brings me to you...

1. my parents are breaking up. i secretly want to find that i have a half-sister due to an infedelity that has been hidden for many years. it would make it even more interesting if my mom hid the pregnancy from my dad and then had the baby discreetly in the bathroom on sunday while my dad ate vienna sausages and watched This Old House in his green fart chair (the one with the holes in it that served as a good spot for my brother and me to physically rub each other's faces in during fights "you smell dad's farts! smell them good!" which usually ended with the game "why are you hitting yourself?") and then maybe mom put the hide-a-baby in a basket and left it at the firestation. it would be very cool if my half sister wound up being my best friend, stephanie.

2. the show was rad. then again, they could have been completely wasted and had head injuries to cause them to say ridiculous things that don't make any sense unless you have a head injury too and they could have not even brought any instruments and just made farting noises in the microphone and i still would have been like "WOOOO! Y'ALL ARE THE GREATEST BAND EVER!!! I WANT TO HAVE Y'ALL'S BABIES!!!" after the show, we went to speakeasy and saw this guy, Jonathan Terrell, perform. he's awesome. he had a guitar and a harmonica headgear and a great voice. ryan and i danced and then we walked about 2 miles back to our hotel. we just followed the river. and then he provided me with a hamburger to shove into my maw.

i heard everybody's voice cut out when you spoke, and i watched all the lights go dim when your eyes opened

I cannot wait for this week to be over! Saturday I am hanging out with my college friends and Sunday I am hanging out with one of my good friends from high school who was my first kiss in the backseat of a cutlass and I am pretty sure my mouth is still sore from that but that’s ok because I got a free movie out of it and I love free shit and so I am going to hang out with him and the three people him and his beautiful wife made. Then Monday, Ryan and I are hooking up with Gena and Brian and we are going to see the Alkaline Trio and I am going to dance and sing (which will probably traumatize Ryan into breaking up with me) and elbow people’s faces on accident. I haven’t been this excited since I learned I can pee without taking my tampon out. Are you fucking kidding me? That is awesome.

It has been an incredibly rough week. I have had some serious family issues and work issues and I came home last night to find that Bogey’s asshole had exploded all over the walls and the carpet and the crate and then he topped off his poopsundae with vomit consisting of 4 days worth of undigested food, half a sock and a dryer sheet and then he says to himself in a proud British accent, he says, “hmmm…I’ve developed quite the recipe and it does look quite comfortable! Perhaps I shall lay down in it and roll around a bit. Shall we? Yes, let’s! Oh, goody!” and then I imagine he clapped his paws thrice and dove in gracefully. I have never seen a dingleberry that is 5” in diameter before. It was like he had a waffle made of doodoofeces plastered to his backside. This incident was enough to make me swear off children forever. Or at least until the next time I see a cute one. Like this little guy right here who I caught popping caps in some asses at the skating rink:

I was eating some fruit snacks at work the other day and I am fairly certain that these grapes once belonged to some person who is probably very incredibly sad right now. Sorry I ate your cock, very tiny black man.





I bet this guy had a really pretty and cool girlfriend and one day he went to a wedding and he met this girl, and she was really hot and he wound up kissing her and so he told his girlfriend about it and she kicked him out of the house so he immediately went to this hot girl’s house and washed the shit out of her dishes and then right when he pulled his plug out of her sinkhole, he was like “Oh shit” and he went back home and she took him back but then he decided to be honest and he told her where he’d put his bottlebrush and she did this to his truck and he drove around with it like that for days because he was kinda proud in a sick way. The End.




Or perhaps he lost his testes in a terrible accident involving a monkey or a fence post or an errant lawn dart.



Which reminds me...last night I decide to seduce my boyfriend and being the mad temptress that I am, I jumped on top of him and started doing sexy things like growling and clawing at his pants and gyrating my hips. My boyfriend, who has said about 15 sentences since we started dating, immediately went into monkey facts. "Did you know that all monkeys bite?" "Common infections resulting from monkey bites include Bacteroides, Fusobacterium, streptococci, enterococci and Eikenella." "It is estimated that for every reported monkey bite, at least ten bites go unreported." So finally I stopped trying to get some and sat back, frustrated and he was all, "What? You said you wanted me to talk more."

Dolphins. Transformers 2.

The Only Two Suckers I Can Trust

1. I am a straight female with a healthy appreciation for boobs. I was cleaning up my bloglines and ran across this blog that I rarely read. It took me a second to realize why I stored it in the first place. It's written by this chick with very little personality and her posts were chock full of mundane shit that I couldn't care less about. So we have that in common. But every week or so she would post a picture of her boobies. Her jiggojugs are not great. They are just plain ol' smallish boobs, but I would always scroll through all her bullshit posts to see new boob pictures. Thought process: blahblahblah, scroll scroll, blah squirrels, blah blah BOOBIES! blah blahblah, george cloony blahlhah BOOBIES! blahblah blah shoes blah, scroll scroll BOOBIES!

And I imagine this is what it is like to be a guy talking to a girl at a bar.

2. I went to buy a flat screen television this weekend to surprise Ryan when he got home from San Antonio. The manager at the electronics store told me I had lovely blue eyes and then proceeded to knock off about $400 off my total. When Ryan got home, I told him and he immediately pointed to my boobs. "You think he gave me the discount because of my boobs?! What about my lovely blue eyes?! What about my charming fucking personality?!" and I stormed off only to return a minute later and then I was all, "Ok. So maybe it was my boobs." And Ryan nodded his head proudly and looked at me like I just figured out that life was not entirely about shoes and make up (it is also about video games and beer). However disappointing it may be, I have learned a valuable lesson. 1. Men are sad creatures. 2. Men are easily manipulated. 3. Tight shirts = discounts. 4. I wish I would have shown that manager my uterus. TV's are expensive, yo.

life ain't nothin but bitches and money

I went to lunch today with Denise and on our way out of the restaurant, this little dog came bounding up to us in the parking lot. There are some fairly busy streets surrounding the restaurant. We scooped this little thing up and sat in Denise's air conditioned car and tried to find the owners by calling the name on the tag. I was kind of pissed when we found them. I wanted to keep her!


The dog had very bad breath. Even looking at this picture makes me be able to smell it.

She belongs to the sweetest old black couple I've ever met. I couldn't understand a word they said, but I could tell they were very happy to have her back.

Bogey needs a girlfriend.

Can you believe that Tiger?!

1. Ham had an 80’s roller skating birthday party on Saturday. It got off to a rough start. When I was supposed to be leaving, Jesus started crying – as Ryan says – and his tears were so plentiful that within 10 minutes, our street was flooded. When I looked out the window, a small burst of flames swooshed by my ear and I realized that I’d set my hair on fire on a candle. I smelled like a bad perm and burnt self-esteem all night long. It was pretty gross.



I finally made it to Ham’s. Sailor Jerry was there and not only made me feel a lot better about my Michael Jackson incident (how 80’s of me), but also made me feel super sexy until I had the opportunity to look in a mirror. Nikki and I went to get some food from Taco Bell. Nicole went to the bathroom and I was sitting by myself when this group of guys three tables over started cat-calling me. I was mortified and tried to ignore them. Nikki FINALLY got back from the bathroom and told them to knock it off because I was hers. About half-way through the meal, one of the guys came up to me.

Guy: So can I get your number?
Me: How old are you?
Guy: Um, 16.
Me: That is illegal. I am old enough to be your mother! (if I was a major slut in middle school)
Guy: Yeah, but it’ll get me ten bucks. Come on.

So I gave a 16 year old guy my number and I am pretty sure he was 14. I know. Not my proudest moment. But the look on his face when he skipped back to his little friends was priceless – like he just scored a new GI Joe Desert Wolf Ranger with kung fu grip(!!!), so it was worth it.

The skating was fun. I didn’t fall, but that was probably because I skated as little as possible. I didn't want a repeat of last year when I was standing prefectly still talking to these two guys about how good of a skater I am and how I never fall and mid-sentence, I was on the ground, panties up trying to figure out what the hell just happened until my boyfriend skated up and helped me. He's like Superman, that one. Anyway, on Saturday, one guy ran into the wall with his FACE within 10 minutes of putting his skates on. Good incentive for me to just sit there. I like it when people fall, but I don’t like people to slam their faces onto things. Bleh.

I will post more pictures later. I don’t have many with me at work.

2. I am going to Angola in September. I have been saying I am going to Africa “next month!” since I started working here and I have not gone. So I am not holding my breath. This time, though, they seem super serious about it. I will get to go offshore (!!!), so I have to take a helicopter training class just incase the helicopter doesn’t explode and just winds up falling into the ocean. This safety class consists of blindfolding me and safety-belting me into a helicopter with some other folks, then turning the helicopter upside down and submerging it in water. I have to stay calm and remove myself. HA. I get freaked out in the shower when the drain is a little clogged. I will probably just start screaming and flailing my arms until my lungs fill with water and I successfully knock out each of my lucky classmates. Then the teacher will have to jump in and save me. I hope he is hot.

3. Since both my boyfriend and I have the same sense of humor as an ADD-riddled adolescent, he sent me this picture the last time he went to a work conference. Every time I see something like this, I wonder if the company did it on purpose and, if yes, I would love to be there for the advertsing company's sales pitch. Reminds me of playing with Cale's dimpled balls.