Aaaaand that happened

I got lots of blogging to do. I got tagged twice! And I am going to knock it all out in the same post. BAM. It is what I do folks.

Amber D. said I am a Kreativ Blogger!!! I am supposed to write 7-10 facts about myself. I have done this one before here and here and here, where I have named 20 random/weird/quirky things about myself so I may come up short. It may be 5 or it may be 11 depending on how much thinking I can do this late. Besides, I like to walk the line. Exciting! Also, they may not all be about me. I have had a pretty eventful couple of weeks so you get stories. Ok, here we go...

1. I do not like clumpy things. I think it started back when I was researching something completely unrelated and this picture (or one similar) came up. It is debatable whether it is safe for work or not because technically, it is a very serious condition. On the other hand, it is a huge picture of an infected vagina. You decide. So it started there. Then, one time I was at the lake and Ryan's mom tried to kill this clumpy spider, but when she came down on it, all the clumps were actually babies and they all started freaking out and climbing everywhere. Ugh. Even when I see jewelry like this, I get pretty uncomfortable and I want to stomp on it or rub Valtrex on it.

2. Friday night, Steph and I went to a Halloween party at a bar. Our costumes had to be black and white so she was a witch and I was an 80's aerobics instructor. Steph has a voice that makes angels cry (in a good way, y'all) and so she got on stage and sang "Hit Me with Your Best Shot" while I got up there with her and did incredibly vigorous aerobics. I hear that I was such an amazing instructor because people in the crowd were doing aerobics with me!!! I didn't see them because I was too busy stretching and punching at the air. On the 16 measure break, Steph did them with me and then we marched in place for a few measures. At one point, this lady came up and was trying to dirty dance with me and I said to her, "NO! You have to do aerobics!" and she said, "Please just for a minute" and I said "NO!" and then punched the air some more.



3. Later, I noticed that the lady who tried dirty dancing with me was pregnant! I noticed this when the Humpty Dance came on and homegirl started grinding a chair. Her kid is gonna come out with plastic arms and cup-holders, I just know it. Grode. Please, if I ever get pregnant and decide to violently mount a stationary object, make sure my baby goes to a good home. I guess I should say if I try to violently mount a stationary object in public, then look to adopt my baby out. If I am in my bedroom, it is ok. For the real Halloween, I was going to go as myself when I was 5 in a homemade superhero outfit, but it isn't coming together as I would like it to so I may do the aerobics thing again only this time I am going to carry around a ribbon on a stick and a boom box like Get In Shape Girl.

4. Last weekend, Mom, Steph and I went to New York City to look at wedding dresses. We wound up dragging the very heterosexual, very masculine Ryan over at Sedated Gorilla all over the city and forcing him to shop with us. At Macy's, Steph and Mom went to the bathroom and Ryan and I went upstairs to make an appointment for me to try on bridal gowns. The lady behind the desk asked if he was my fiance and I said, "No, he is my gay" and she threw up her hands and said, "I should have known!" Ryan's face looked like this :/ and then she started talking about how she loved gays and how Sean Bean is loved by the gays and about how a guy that used to work there would try on dresses after they closed and how he looked better than the women and then Ryan, being a good sport and embracing his newfound gayness asked for his number. The lady said that Ryan is not his type as Ryan is a "straight-gay". I think he was about to kiss her. Hallelujah! You are a straight gay, Ryan!

5. We also went to the Museum of Sex! Holy Crap. I am going to have to do a whole nother post on that at some point, but I did learn about homosexual necrophelia in Mallard ducks. I am not even just trying to show off how many big words I know and how to pronounce and spell them. They have pictures of these acts! I bet my aunt's house would look a lot different had she known about this before she applied Mallard duck wallpaper to her entire living room. Also, did you know that dolphins do it in the blowhole?? Even more amazing is that I learned a new word for a dolphin vagina is genital slit! I know this is getting pretty gross, guys, but come on...let's find an ounce of maturity within ourselves to understand this as an educational lesson. Next post will be pictures of me and Steph laughing and pointing at a Bonobo chimps' huge hot pink balls.

6. I saw this youtube video on one of my good friends' facebook page and I can't stop watching it and laughing and saying "aaaaaand that happened" after everything that happens.

7. Know what is awesome about me? How resourceful and kreativ I really am.... I am using this thing about myself to explain that I am going to use SPM's tag as my number 7. Resourceful? Lazy? Resourceful.

SPM tagged me on this. You have to answer these questions with one word. I LOVE ADJECTIVES! This is going to be hard.

1. Where is your cell phone? dunno
2.Your hair? messy
3. Your mother? perfect
4. Your father? awesome
5. Your favorite food? taco
6. Your dream last night? SECKS!!!!
7. Your favorite drink? shiraz
8. Your dream/goal? happy
9. What room are you in? living
10. Your hobby? frottage
11. Your fear? clumps
12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? living
13. Where were you last night? home
14. Something that you aren’t? smell like feet
15. Muffins? Bananas.
16. Wish list item? unicornhorn
17. Where did you grow up? Wharton
18. Last thing you did? laundry
19. What are you wearing? PJ's
20. Your TV? football
21. Your pets? BOGEY!!!
22. Friends? fanfuckingtabulous
23. Your life? ugh
24. Your mood? sleepy
25. Missing someone? always
26. Vehicle? smell like feet
27. Something you’re not wearing? rainbow
28. Your favorite store? H&M
29. Your favorite color? Personal
30. When was the last time you laughed? today
31. Last time you cried? Thursday
33. One place that I go to over and over? http://www.dicks.com/
34. One person who emails me regularly? Steph
35. Favorite place to eat? Cucos!

I realize that I did not follow the rules the whole time, but I don't smell like feet and my truck does. It's a goddamn mystery how that happened.

I'm picking out a thermos for youuuuuuu.....

I always think people who use "I was drunk!" as an excuse are full of crap because no matter how drunk you get, you always know what you are doing. I am changing my stance after last weekend. It depends on how much and what kind of beer you have. Like that one time when I went to Europe for work and I drank a bunch of Stella Artois because I thought it was a light beer and I wound up demonstrating how I push my erect nipples in whenever I rode the elevator at work because it was like a freezer in there. I literally took my thumbs, pressed in my nipples and counted with my eyes closed "1...2...3...4...5...6...7..." in front of my boss and several clients. Even though you may know what you are doing, the whole "is this appropriate?" question flies out the window and you wake up with inverted nipples smelling like cigarette smoke and shame.

Before I go on, I want you to know that:

SHINER BLONDE HAS WAY MORE ALCOHOL CONTENT THAN IT TASTES LIKE. MAYBE IF I WERE DRINKING KEYSTONE LIKE SOME PEOPLE, I WOULD NOT HAVE SAID SNATCH IN FRONT OF SEVERAL PEOPLE.

Ok, so yes, Amber posted about me. I am only linking to it because she says I have nice boobs. Thanks, dude! I have to say that both of you have excellent boobs as well.

Also, Amber, we played flip cup on the same team and we rocked the house at it. I remember totally wanting to kick your brother's broad's ass just because I am old and she is only 20 and that is not fair. I wish I could have stuck around for another game, but if I was any drunker, Ryan would have been very put out. He was already upset with me for rolling the window up and down with my toe the whole way home and eventually put the child lock on and ordered me a kid's meal (even though I didn't want one) very loudly to make a point.

I am honestly having trouble remembering some things. I do remember that SPM peed her pants while I was still sober. Also, regarding the Potato Head fiasco. Ok, I knew that hanging out with the kid was a bad idea, but somehow I was alone with him in the living room and we were playing cars and when I was having trouble not screaming, "fuck yeah! in yo face" when my car went faster than his, I decided it would be a good idea to go back outside, but he started crying and he is so damn cute that I couldn't go back outside. Then Kayleigh came in.... Kayleigh Kayleigh Kayleigh and was all, "Have you shown Crystal Kid Town??" Thanks, Kayleigh. So, he takes me upstairs. I love kids, mind you, and he is an adorable one, but my brother barely lets me hang out with my niece and nephews unsupervised because I have a dirty mouth. That's when he pulled out the Mr. Potato Head. I am just saying. I tried to remove myself from the situation, but it is all Kayleigh's fault. If she wasn't so likable, I totally would have started a nasty rumor about her.

As far as the Cutlass goes, Ambers, it was a Cutlass Supreme. I would have told y'all that night, but I didn't want y'all to be jealous.

I think we need to hang out more so I can build up a tolerence before my bachelorette party. I really don't want to be passed out by 9pm while all of you get to play with men covered in baby oil and wearing only thongs and ankle socks. I need to learn from the masters.

Also, Amber sang "I can feel it coming in the air tonight..." very loudly in front of many, many people.

Sometimes I have to kill a squirrel

I broke Ryan's pellet gun trying to shoot a potentially rabid squirrel that was harassing Bogey. Perhaps if I'd worn only boots and underwear, things would have gone more smoothly. Now I am going to have to squeeze his neck with calipers. So there's an idea.

I am also open to other suggestions....

Please advise.

I am nervous....

Amber is gonna do a post regarding behavior that I probably won't be proud of. I don't remember much, but I do remember teaching the other Amber's son about the awkwardness of storing things in your butt like Mr. Potato Head. I am probably never going to be allowed to hang out again.


Also, I have been in West Texas conducting an audit all week. The last night we were there, we decided to celebrate by going to this bar called Graham's. It is one of those places that has a bunch of bars in one building like a country bar, karaoke and a place called Wild Cats, which is West Texas' version of Cyote Ugly. Of course, my co-worker is a poon hound so guess where we spent most of the evening? Luckily, I was there to participate in the wet t-shirt contest.

By participate, I mean I sat there and yelled so basically that makes me a judge. I sent this picture to one of my frins and he wrote back complimenting me on my blue jean shorts. Thanks, dude. That girl actually got 2nd place....probably because when she stood under the shower she bent over and started humping the beer tap like a dog. She kind of reminded me of my grandpa's chihuahua who never missed an opportunity to display his disproportianely long wang and violently mate with his stuffed bear under the table at every family dinner. So I screamed for her because I wanted her to win. Lo, my screams were not loud enough because another girl with fake boobies won. Sadness. What is this world coming to???

I am still always trying to show off my panties...

When I was a kid, I had a friend named Eunice. Well, I should rephrase that. I am reluctant to call her a friend as we got in a fist fight infront of some hot neighborhood boys when I was 8 years old. And by fist fight, I mean she pushed my face into some stickerburrs and I ran home crying and my dad had to pick them out of my face and I could tell he was disappointed that I didn't even get a shot in. I was a pretty mean kid myself and got after my brother regularly with a wire barbecue pit brush grill scraper thing. For some reason, Eunice scared the shit out of me. For good reason, I guess. In high school, I was at a party in someone's trailer house and all of a sudden, there was this big BANG! and the trailer shook and I rushed outside to see if someone ran their vehicle into the house and realized that Eunice had taken one of the cheerleaders at our school and threw her face into the side of the trailer. She was a mean cheerleader and I gained a whole new respect for Eunice and felt a twinge of responsibility as I did not stop her from running my face into something when I was a kid.
Anyway.
So Eunice messaged me on Facebook and several memories came flooding back to me.
Like this one time, still at 8 years old, we had a bit of a drought and the creek next to us had a catfish swimming around in 4 inches of water and his little back was sticking out of the water so we decided it would be fun to shoot it with a bb gun and then make a fire and eat it later. We had a BB gun, but for some reason my parents had taken all the BBs away after my brother stealthily shot the neighbor kid in his penis. So we had to find BBs. Mom's nailpolish! Great idea! So I dumped out 4 bottles of my mom's nailpolish in the bathroom sink to get the bb's out (some of them went down the drain) and I brought the BB gun and the 2 pellets I scored to Eunice, but they did not fit in the gun. Good for the fish, good for the potential fire hazard and horribly bad for my buttcheeks when my mom got home from work and found her bathroom sink coated in several shades of pink.
I also remember when I finally got the balls to stand up to her. I was at her house in 4th grade and we were playing. Eunice had gotten a training bra and wore shirts off the shoulder so you could see it. I was wearing a miniskirt and I did a sommersault and she said, "You're always trying to show off your panties!" and I got offended and ran home and then called her on the telephone 4 hours later and said, "WELL, YOU'RE ALWAYS TRYING TO SHOW OFF YOUR BRA!". OOOOoooooOOOOO. BURN. I burned her so hard that birds were having tragic accidents in the sky that date due to not being able to see each other because of her plumes of smoke. Like she needs to stop, drop and roll. Like she needs to call the EPA file for a large quantity generator air permit.
Another time, we found an old refrigerator in some woods in the back of our neighborhood and Eunice pooped in the crisper drawer.
Good times.

I promise

I will stop talking about wedding stuff soon, but I figured I should show you guys the ring.

I am starting to understand why brides FREAK OUT so much

I am generally a pretty laid back person when roaches and Gatorade bottles are not involved. I thought.

I went to try on wedding dresses and we had this lovely lady named Jennifer helping us. So Jennifer goes away comes back with this very very small corset bra contraption with 85 hook eyes all up the back and this petticoat thing. I couldn't get my sausage into the casing, if you know what I'm saying, k, so I had to have my friends come in and help me and they had to see my boobs and my tropical-print granny panties and they were all jerking on my stuff trying to get it to compact into an abnormally small space and the only thing that seemed to give were my lungs. So I am finally all buttoned up and I can barely breathe and Jennifer brings this dress to me that weighs probably 75 pounds and I can't tell if I need to step into it or have it go over my head. For some reason, probably due to lack of oxygen to my brain, I decided that over my head would be the best way to go about it. Dumb. After getting into a violent altercation with the dress and my friend and Jennifer inside a 4'x4' dressing room followed by severe tugging and tightening and more exposing myself and pulling on my stuff, I was finally in the GD dress. I came out of the dressing room and Jennifer spent a couple of minutes putting a veil on and then decided I needed a different veil with that dress so Jennifer skips off in her cool little skirt with a breathable elastic waistband and Hanes-Her-Way loose cotton t-shirt without 5 bobbypins jammed into her scalp. Bitch. Must be nice, JENNIFER. Must. Be. Nice. So I was standing there waiting. I had only been out of the dressing room for a couple of minutes and I hadn't had oxygen in about ten minutes and sweat was actually rolling down my thighs. I never knew my thighs could sweat. Perhaps my ass was crying. I don't know, but something suddenly came over me and I was all (in a whispery growly voice), "Where the fuck is JENNIFER???" and my friend was like, "She went to get you a veil. She'll be right back" and I was like, "Fuck this dress. You go get that JENNIFER and tell her to fucking forget it. I am taking this off" and the whole time Jennifer was standing behind me with the veil and I had to apologize. It sucked.

I have been keeping a secret...

FINE THEN.

Work has been kicking my butt these days. People can’t seem to keep their fingers attached to their hands (I will spare you the pictures) or the oil in their tanks. So, after putting in several hours of overtime and having a 5 hour meeting with people who work for the state’s regulatory agency, I was sort of stressed out. I came home late last night and Ryan was watching tv and I started asking him questions and then you know what he did?? He did not answer me. And so I asked again. And he still did not answer me! And then I kind of sort of, well, I lost my shit. I hate being ignored and so I got up and threw a pillow in his direction and went to bed.

I was laying there thinking how I shouldn’t have done that and going through the conversation we would have once he came to bed. It went like this:

Him: I can’t believe you threw a pillow at me!
Me: I don’t even care!
Him: That is so disrespectful!
Me: Well, mister, it is disrespectful to ignore me!
Him: You’re right. I’m really sorry.
Me: I have already accepted your apology in my mind, but I am glad you were able to verbalize it.

This is how the conversation actually went:

Him: I’m sorry I made you mad.
Me: I’m sorry I threw a pillow at you.
Him: You spilled my Gatorade
Me: Did it get everywhere?
Him: Yes
Me: Did it get on the recliner?
Him: No.
Whew! Having to clean up Gatorade off the floor is one thing, but having to scrub fake suede makes a huge difference.
Me: (Remembering that I was mad and trying to get back on track with my imagined conversation) Then what’s the big deal?? Do we not have more Gatorade in the fridge? GOD.
Him: We do.
Silence.
Me: Well, I am sorry you made me so mad that I had to throw a pillow and spill your Gatorade.

Then he just got in bed and cuddled me. I am pretty sure that is exactly what I needed all night.

I did apologize this morning for being so dramatic, but I did it very quickly and then changed the subject immediately.

I am too old for this shit...

The reason I am deleting my myspace account:

I know I am too old for this now because when I look at my friend requests, I'm all, "What the hell kinda language are kids speaking these days?"

Also, that middle kid is making a kissy face.

Update:
Amber's comment reminded me of this that someone sent me in an email:

Thanks a lot, BOGEY

I was sitting in here in the living room working and I heard this "splat!" and I looked up and a HUGE tree roach had apparently fallen from the ceiling.

Ok, I hate roaches more than anything in the world. Sometimes these huge tree roaches get in the house (not because we are dirty, but because we have trees and it happens) and I flip out and scream and annoy someone until they kill it for me. Which is usually Ryan. With the exception of a couple of weeks ago when one was in the garage and he made me kill it because he was too busy doing something completely unimportant like rewiring lights. I still haven't forgiven him. So I got HIS shoe, and I started screaming and running at the roach. And then I threw the shoe and the impact sprayed about five inches of guts on the cement and you know what I did? I didn't even clean it up. I just stepped over it. Because that is disgusting and I am not going to clean up roach guts. And then I came back in the house and said, "Thanks a lot for helping me kill that roach you asshole." I was being sarcastic. But not about the asshole part.

Then, I was in the kitchen one time at 4am and I saw one and I didn't want to wake anyone up so I got a shoe and threw it and it landed on top of the roach and I just left it there and put a note on the shoe that said, "HEY. There is a roach under here. Please clean it up and have a great day. Thanks." and Ryan's dad was staying with us that day and he found the note and he had to clean it up and when I apologized for it, he said it was ok. He was wondering what had happened because at 4am he heard screaming and slapping. I thought I was being quiet, but apparently, my roach rage knows no boundaries.

So, today, one fell from the ceiling. The hugest one I have probably ever seen and it immediately gets on its tiptoes and starts trying to creep across the living room tile and I was like, "hell, no" and I told Bogey, "Get it! Get the roach!" and I was pointing, but he just kept sniffing my finger and I was like, "No, get that roach!" and he finally got what I was saying, and started pawing at it. So he had the roach cornered and you know what he did???? That dog decided it would be a good idea to lovignly RUB HIS FACE on the roach. WTF. Useless animal.

So I had to kill another roach with Ryan's flip flop. And it is laying there and everytime I get close to it, my pumpkin oatmeal comes up a little bit in my throat. Grode. I am not cleaning that up.

Tequila makes me social

For Valentine’s Day, Ryan planned a 6 day trip to Riviera Maya Mexico. Our schedules didn’t align until a couple of weeks ago so we left on a Sunday morning (our flight departed at 7am and since it was international, we had to be there at 5). So I met this couple in line at the refreshment stand and they seemed nice enough at the time…even offered to pay for my food when I realized the place didn’t take credit cards. We wound up sitting in front of them and some guy who must have eaten a child or some other heinous act which God thought sitting next to these two would be sufficient penance. We listened to this couple talk and laugh loudly for 2.5 hours on a 7am flight. I am sure the husband owns a crotch rocket and a wolf shirt and one of those helmets with the fake Mohawk on top and wears a gold chain and does lines of cocaine off the dash of his Preferred Stock drenched Ford Tempo. Example:

Husband: We saw your wife in the terminal. We were like DAMN! She is BIG!
And then we saw you and we were like DAMN! He is BIG too! But that’s ok, because you are a big sexy black man and I am a little sexy white man and that is the way we do!

What?? What is the way you do? He was getting all gangster on this poor guy just because he is black. And talking about their size?? He also kept calling the guy “brotha”. We were pissed when the flight attendant forced us to remove our IPODs 30 minutes before we landed.

The fourth night we were at the resort, we ran into the black guy and his wife at dinner and we started talking and then we started drinking and I am sure I was on my loveliest behavior after several tequila shots.



Here are several sweaty pictures I don't remember taking:

I had to crop this one so it would be SFW:

The next day, I was going through pictures and I said, "Who are all these people??" and Ryan said that I had personally befriended each one and brought them all back to our table. Apparently there were more than this even. I have no idea what I am doing or what I am sitting on but I look like I am the life of the freaking party at this point.

I also had several mysterious stains on my shorts because apparently I fell in several unfortunate places. I am an embarrassed cow. When we got back to our room, I lost all modesty and passed out nearly naked on the bathroom floor, mouth open, drool running out and Ryan decided to take pictures. Awesome. I can't wait to show our kids.