It's Not Me, It's You

Yo baby pop yeah you

2011-12-28T20:59:00.000-08:00

I haven't been blogging because I have been busy with a kid. And facebook. And Pinterest. And drinking wine in all my spare time....including now. However, I am feeling like blabbing tonight and it is too late to call people on a school night and everyone is asleep so I can't perfect my chair routine to "Freeze Frame" lest I wake someone up and they want a bottle of milk or sex. So I will take it out on my poor laptop who is all, "I thought you were on vacation!" Never gets a break, this one.

Something that happened recently: I got fake eyelashes. I was getting my nails done and the lady who always asks if I want my lip waxed even though I don't have a mustache said, "oh, honey, you wan eyelash. only 80 dollar." and I was like, "what? i wan eyelash?" and after a few minutes of broken English and frustrated nodding on my part, I was laying down with tape over my bottom lids getting eyelashes individually glued on for an hour and a half. Having your bottom eyelids taped down for that long is scary as shit. You can't open your eyes and sometimes the lady doing the whole thing gets up to DO SOMEONE'S NAILS without telling you and you can hear her in the background criticizing someone else's mustache. When I was finally done and she gave me the mirror, I was in shock. I looked like this. I could hardly open my eyes and she gave me some bull about how I will get used to it and how I look very pretty. I have braided them and taped them to my eyebrows. Also, the whole "if i can't see you, you can't see me" rule does not apply. I found myself deliberately not making eye contact with people in hopes that they wouldn't notice the hungry spider vaginas peering off my face, but no such luck. Folks were like, "WHOA! Did you get fake eyelashes?" So, the moral of the story is, when you're having a bad day, it could always be worse. You could have made the decision to spend $80 getting false eyelashes put on and they look ridiculous and you have to walk around with that shit superglued to your face for 3-6 weeks.

What else...

My profession allows me to visit many different oil field locations in places like East Texas. Sometimes, when I get to talking to these good ol' boys, my grammar may slip a little. I may even say things like, "Whoooo doggie, them some hot coveralls" or something like that. I think it has to do with me feeling like I am back at home and I usually get a warm reception from the guys at rigs. So one day when I was at work, a cowboy actually told me my grammar was atrocious. He asked me if I even went to school. Now, I pride myself on knowing how to use proper grammar. That was the only class I ever aced in school. However, I tend to use creative license in every day speak and on my blog (gimmie a break I am drinking). Kind of like when I refused to name my kid Gladys or Hillis because I didn't want to put people in the position of using the s' or the s's. God forbid someone give me a homemade sign to hang in her room that said "Gladys's Toys". I couldn't live with it. Even though that may be the correct usage, who really knows? That is something I am not comfortable with and I am not going to subject my child to years of scrutiny when she is referring to her posessions.
ANYWAY, so this guy told me my grammar was atrocious and I have since set out to prove to him that my grammar is, in fact, amazing. He wound up friending me on our office instant messenger and I am finding it stressful. I am using complete sentences and expressing my feelings in actual words instead of emoticons or phrases like "i b chillin. what u doin?". Do you guys know how hard it is to end a sentence without a preposition??? So I have found myself using "with which" a lot. What makes me sound like a bigger douchebag? I finally broke down and told him the pressure he was putting me under (the pressure in which he was putting me?) and he didn't even know what a preposition was!!!!!!! fml.

So yeah, I have a kid. She just turned 1 last week and she is awesome. I am going to leave you with a music video she made to LMFAO's "Sexy and I Know It" because I have become one of those parents that forces people to stare at her kid. Yep.

Blogger won't let me embed it for some reason, so here is a link to the video. Warning: She has passion in her pants and she ain't afraid to show it.

Don't Make Me Cut A Bitch

2011-06-16T11:08:00.000-07:00

Amber, over at Everybody's Working for the Weekend, recently mentioned on her facebook page that she is hormonal and started crying when her pet bird bit a hole in her shirt. One of her friends commented, "When I was pregnant with Ally and Kelly Clarkson won American Idol I cried so hard and so long that I had to sleep in the next day and go to work late...and I had never watched AI until that night."

The point is, when you're pregnant, you really turn into another person. My opinion is that you're not allowed to drink or smoke weed or eat a bunch of sushi or whatever you normally do to cope...that, in addition to the fact that none of your clothes fit, you're experiencing fun things like baby elbows in your ribs, boob/crotch sweat and involuntary farting at work. All of that sucks so it is completely normal for your fat-ankled camel's back to be broken by several straws a day.

That reminded me of a time when I was 8 months pregnant. I had just finished teaching a class and I was tired and trying to get home. So I rounded a corner and there was a vehicle stuck in a ditch with a tow truck hooked up to it blocking the entire roadway. About 200 feet in front of them was another tow truck partially blocking the road and the lady tow truck driver was outside watching. I needed to turn around, but the only way I could do it was to pull into the driveway on the other side of the that tow truck and back up that way. There was still plenty of room between her and the ditched vehicle so I started to go and the lady tow truck driver flipped her shit. She started screaming at me and calling me stupid and at one point, she was like, "What the fuck are you doing???!" At that point, I decided it would be a good idea to put my truck in park and get out and start waddling over to her throwing my hands in the air and I think I said something like, "What are you going to to about it, bitch?" [Ed. note: this is kind of embarrassing for me to admit. I wish I was that gangster on a regular basis. Please keep in mind that if someone looks at me sideways, I make it my mission to either get them to like me by buying them things or showing them my boobs.] So she, obviously scared that a severly pregnant lady was about to attack her, screamed back, "You need to turn around, bitch!" so I started waddling faster because I will be dammed if she gets the best of me. I did not stand in front of a classroom for 6 hours and pee my pants a little bit every hour to deal with this crap. I was just about to go thug on her when I heard "BEEWOOOOP!" and turned my head to the left where a cop was sitting in his patrol car watching the whole thing. I had never even seen him in my blind rage. He didn't even get out of his car. He turned his speaker on and said, "Come on, ladies, get it together. Ma'am, get back in your car" and then he proceeded to give me directions on how to get my truck out of the area all via the loud speaker. He wasn't about to get out of his patrol car and enter into the danger that was a pregnant lady in a waddling rage. He wasn't ready for this jelly. Crystal Street Cred = 10.

After I got back into my car, I called my husband so we could talk smack about the lady tow truck driver together and he would make me feel better about the whole situation and we would giggle and then he would massage my feet when I got home because I'd had such a hard day. HAHAHAHA @ my silly expectations. I actually wound up getting an earful about how I need to be careful with his unborn child and blahblahblahsomeotherirrationalbullshitblahblahblah and I wound up hanging up on him and crying the whole way home.

Lessons to be learned: Lady tow truck drivers suck and men should always just smile and agree with whatever their wife says...especially if she is pregnant.

Bamail!

2011-06-09T10:45:00.000-07:00

I was going through some old emails and ran across this awesome one from my friend, Ba:

Hey, what do you think of my new goal: I bet a friend at work that I could say the word "bitch"
but have it last at least eleven full syllables. One syllable, of course, is the standard. Two syllables is f-cking child's play; every two-bit white-bread investment banker downtown says "beeyotch." Three syllables is elementary school crap: ever heard of "bee-eye-itch-nitch"? Of course you have. Even four syllables is ridiculously unchallenging: "bizz-nitch-ess-es" (this is singular; plural is "bizznitchesseses").

Anyway, I challenged myself to eleven got-damned syllables. This is a pretty tall order because I once tried nine syllables, and, with my entire firm watching, I crashed and burned. The medics and EMTs that were on hand had to use their fire extinguishers on me because at syllable number seven, I became engulfed in flames (but I was wearing an Evel Knievel-type white jump suit and a helmet). I was laid up in a hospital for about two weeks.

So yeah....

2011-04-25T10:15:00.001-07:00

I have avoided blogging for awhile. I was refusing to have a mommy blog...not that mommy blogs are a bad thing, but it is kind of weird to go from writing about mcribs and my husband's undescended third nut to cradle cap and stories about how I rushed my daughter to the doctor because I thought she had measles, but she only got bitten by an ant. I thought I'd have plenty of things to discuss besides the baby, but my entire life is babybabybaby. I frikkin LOVE the kid, by the way. She is, by far, the coolest person I have ever met in my entire life and she doesn't even talk! That's probably one of the reasons I like her so much - she lets me do all the talking.

However, I am trying to put off work so I decided screw it, I am going to blog. I will ease into it with labor. I got induced; 24 hours later I was pushing; 2 hours after that, the doctor decided that my hips were too small and I had to have an emergency c-section. I, of course, started freaking out and crying and then they gave me some drugs and I talked to the doctor about lord knows what while she was elbow deep in my guts. Literally. That is not a sexual euphamism. I was freezing. Probably because my insides were strewn about the OR. I thought about screaming "FREEEEDOM". Ha I am hilarious. So then, she sewed me up (7 layers of stitches!) , sent the baby off to the nursery with Ryan and wheeled me off to recovery. While in recovery, and still quite loopy, I had the same nurse that I'd had during the day and I noticed she had a mole on her chin. Only, I didn't know it was a mole and I said, "HEEEEEY! When did you get your face pierced???" to which she replied, "What?" and I said, "YOUR FACE! IT IS PIERCED!" and she looked at me crazy and then I said, "I'm sorry. I'm all fucked up." Then Ryan made it back to me at which point I said, "Hey! Aren't you glad our baby isn't black!?" and he told me to be quiet because there was a black family on the other side of the curtain. So then I felt the need to explain that the reason I said that was because I did not have sex with a black man, therefore, my baby turned out white and not black. Not that I would mind having sex with a black man, but I am married to Ryan who is white. Ugh. Shut up, Crystal.

Right up to the second I heard her cry, I was completely baffled why someone would go through this more than once. Why do people have more than one child on purpose??? Now I know.

So then a bunch of stuff happened that you probably don't want to know about and I got the kid home and got no sleep. She sleeps great, but I was in anxious mom mode and was constantly checking on her to make sure she was breathing.

She is pretty perfect though and is now sleeping 11-12 hours a night and rarely cries unless something is wrong. I am completely smitten.

The McRib is back. There is officially nothing to be upset about now.

2010-11-18T10:17:00.001-08:00

The McRib is back y'all!! It couldn't have come at a better time either because I don't care about my weight right now.

I have had two conversations today regarding this, both with men, both who said something to the effect of, "Real bbq is better" and since I haven't blogged in forever, I figured it was worth mentioning.

I have to admit that real bbq does rock my world. However, sometimes it is nice to slum it. It is kind of like sex. Sure, I prefer intelligent, clean cut, classy, professional men, but come on...sometimes it is nice to knock it out with some idiot west Texas roughneck who uses poor grammar like "we was" and "i ain't" and smells like sweat and tequila shots. As long as no one sees me.

For the record, I have never been with a roughneck before, but I imagine it would be shockingly similar to eating a McRib...in my truck in the back of a dark parking lot shoving it into my face as quickly as possible.

I'm hungry.

In other news, I weigh a lot and I waddle and sound like Isaac Hayes when I talk. This is a picture of my foot:

And this is how my foot used to look. Yeah. Just so you know and are aware.

Ricki Lake was naked and screaming

2010-08-12T14:43:00.000-07:00

Ryan and I Netflixed The Business of Being Born which was made, I suppose, in order to encourage women to give birth at home in their bathtub or squatting on the kitchen floor. Usually, I am very easy to persuade and pretty much just go along with whatever someone tells me to do. I also don't have many opinions that aren't based solely on the beliefs of others. That's what makes me so affable. I also have some sort of paralyzing fear relating to me being judged by the granolas. For example, I will probably be one of those people who puts a cloth diaper on over a disposable one when I go to the store and just tell everyone my child was born with a fatty butt. There are people like that, right? So I went into this movie thinking that I was going to come out on the other side insisting we hire a doula and invest in a living room sized baby pool.

So let me tell you something. And you listen good. Ricki Lake is in a bathtub naked and moaning in pain and I actually watched her child come out of her vagina. My first thought was, this woman needs a bigger bathtub and my second thought was are my boobs going to do that? and my third thought was OH MY GOD.

I am pretty sure I went into some type of traumatic shock at this point in the film and spent the rest of it with my mouth open and blinking very hard every 3 seconds.

Ok, so then after Ricki has her baby in a college kid's dorm room bathtub, we were introduced to a screaming woman who had her kid while squatting on the kitchen floor. When he started crowning, you could visibly see the mental stress on the vagina's face. It was shaking. It reminded me of how when my ex-boyfriend used to try to pick me up all manly like when we were washing dishes and his mouth would go into some type of trapezoid shape and his veins would pop out his forehead and he would shake all over like he was about to burst. (Not sexy, guys. If your girlfriend weighs too much, just skip that part.) Anyway, it was like the vagina was all "I am about to lose my shit guys. Seriously. I am doing my best here if you could work with me, I'd really like to keep some kind of poise in this situation" and then all at once WHAM the vagina spat the kid out on the floor like a wad of chaw. Not even kidding you, friends. This happened. And I was immediately like, "GET THAT FUCKING GIRL TO A HOSPITAL RIGHT NOW!"

Needless to say, this movie did not do a good job of convincing me that I should opt out of going to a hospital or taking drugs (LOL@ that ridiculous thought). In your face, hippies! Also, one of my friends had 36 stitches in her stuff. The End.

Bleh

2010-07-20T14:44:00.000-07:00

Hey dude.

I haven't blogged in awhile because I am pregnant and boring. I never realized how much time I spent drunk blogging/talking/thinking until I wasn't allowed to be drunk anymore. These are the only thoughts that run through my head now:

"..............."
"!" and
"chicken nugget"

and that is about it. Also, I don't want to be one of those people who only talks about being pregnant and then only talks about the baby and then all of the sudden, I wake up and I am one of those moms who publicly criticizes other women for feeding their children hot dogs and pop tarts (LOSERS). Of course, the time it takes to talk smack about other moms, I will undoubtedly need a babysitter and I will just hire the television. My mom says if anyone gives me a hard time about the way I am raising this kid, I should just say this: "Fuck you"

My mom is pretty awersome.

Wanna see my gut?

15 weeks - That is an A3 wife beater. My kid gon be punk rock. Or an emotional mess who paints his fingernails black and cries too much.

17 weeks - I am tired of just looking like I am chubby. I either want to look normal or pregnant. I am sick of this inbetween life stages thing.

I can't button my pants now...and even when I can, I wind up unbuttoning them by lunch. It makes my usual stealthy stranger groping slightly awkward.

Also, I got married! Whoohoo! I will show you some pictures later. I was really worried about fitting in my dress. This was the first choice:

This picture was taken 5 months ago.

So the dress came in 3 weeks before the wedding! I was really concerned about fitting in that dress and for good reason. It looked pretty gross on me and once it zipped up, I could barely breathe because my boobs kicked my lungs out the way. So I got a new dress. This is the dress at the fitting two weeks before the wedding:

In two weeks that dress also looked different on me. I will post pictures later, but be sure you don't have any children in the room. They may either start crying or become ravenously hungry.

Ok, since I am boring, you guys also get a picture of Stephanie's new ass tattoo.

RIP Rue McClanahan

BREAKING NEWS!!!!

2010-06-08T10:38:00.000-07:00

I pooped twice in 24 hours. It was amazing. I don't know if you know this, but pooping becomes a luxury when you're pregnant. Enjoy it now ladies. It is like sweet freedom. I'll never take it for granted again.

In other news, my brother will be marrying us (just so he can say he married his sister) and he plans on using a fart machine cleverly taped to the bottom of my great grandma's walker. He thinks he is clever, but he is really just being redundant.

Also, my dad emailed me today asking if, instead of the wedding march, if he could walk me down the aisle to the tune, "Assault on Preceint 13". All I remember from that movie is some little girl getting shot by an ice cream truck. The ice cream truck didn't shoot her. She was just standing next to it.

Ryan has named the baby Cheeto Elizabeth.

I don't often ask for prayers, guys, but if you could mention me to God at some point, I'd really appreciate it.

aaaaaand THAT happened!

2010-05-27T08:40:00.000-07:00

It is time for a frank discussion, yo.

One time, one of my friends got a brand new desk. It came unassembled so she dragged it into her home office and assembled it there. When it was time to move the desk to another room, she realized the desk was too large to make it out of the door. So she had rip her door frames off in order to get it out.

That is basically what is happening to my body right now except by desk I mean baby and by door frame, I mean my fragile taint.

What had happened was....

I have been on the pill for 12 years. Also, I am 31 years old so I figured my eggs were like some type of geriatric eggs and only came out of their home once a year to check the mail. So I missed a few pills when I was traveling.

And then Ryan took me golfing in his new golf cart and we drank some beer. And before I knew it, we were washing dishes on the 4th hole. I should have known! He does his best work on the golf course!

I found out on a Monday and freaked out. What is my dad going to say??? He is going to know that I actually do it!! Not only that, but he is probably going to know that at some point I said the words that gave permission to have STUFF released into my special purpose. I broke out in hives. My dad was cool about it though. It's kind of a family tradition.

Ryan and I initially had our wedding date set for August 28th. However, I did not want to be dragging my fat ankles down the aisle so we changed the wedding date to June 26th. Hopefully, I will be able to fit in my dress still. I am 10 weeks today. We shall see.

Awkward Conversations from Easter Weekend

2010-04-06T14:09:00.000-07:00

In the living room with Ryan and his parents.

Ryan's Mom: Hey! Remember when that doctor came to your gym class when you were thirteen and gave everyone physicals? He said your testicles hadn't dropped yet and was concerned that you needed surgery.

Ryan: Didn't happen.

Ryan's Mom: Yes, it did. I remember because we thought we were going to have to pay for surgery. Maybe just one didn't drop?

Ryan: No, Mom! It was that I have a third nut!

Crystal: It is ok that you were a late bloomer. I love you anyway.

Ryan's Mom: A third nut?? No, that wasn't it.

Ryan: Yes, it was! I still have a third nut! Ask Crystal! She knows!

Crystal: :-/

The next day in the car again with his parents. I sent Ryan a text message.

Crystal: You haven't texted me back.

Ryan: So?

Crystal: Ugh. I texted you something sweet and you won't even respond to it?

Ryan: I can say whatever it is back to you. I am sitting right here.

Crystal: Fine. Do it, then.

Ryan: Ok. You're sexy too and I want to bone too.

Crystal: :-/

Sharing is Caring

2010-03-08T22:22:00.000-08:00

Texas AG warns parents about chatroulette.com
by khou.com staff
Posted on March 8, 2010 at 4:57 PM******

AUSTIN, Texas—The Texas Attorney General’s Office is warning parents about a new online danger.

It’s called chatroulette.com, and it allows users to have live video chats with random people.
When undercover officers used the site, nearly half of the randomly selected users exposed themselves and conducted sexually explicit acts on camera.

The site requires users to be 16 years of age or older, but the rule is not clearly enforced.

KHOU had a news report on this website. The more the newscaster talked, the more I was all "WAIT! I need to find a pen!!!" (see sentence #3 above). Especially after they showed screen shots of the people who participate: An old man dressed as some type of leopard kitty cat and a tubby Asian dude wearing a bra similar to one I had when I was 16.

I think you know where I will be for the next few days.

Silly Grandma! Those are for Catholics!

2010-02-22T11:59:00.001-08:00

My great grandmother is hooking me up with all of her old china. I was going through the barrel with my Grandma Ann (her daughter) when she reached in and came out with a very old tiny brass cup.

Me: What is that? An old timey shot glass?

Ann: No! It is a communion cup!

Me: (pointing finger) HAHAHA! Silly grandma! Y'all are Methodist!

My grandma rolled her eyes so hard, I thought they were going to fall out of her head. (She actually smacked me in the head a few hours later when I told her I didn't know who the surgeon general was) What? I was unaware that most church folks take communion. The only time I went to church growing up was when my maternal grandmother would force me into hour long mass at the Catholic church where I would draw boobs on the hymnal and poke my brother in the gut with my half-pencil.

My dad was in the hospital with pnemonia last week and I went to visit. In the foyer, they have a statue of Jesus and I made my mom wait while I took a picture.

Seriously? Who freaking thought this statue was a good idea? As I finished snapping the picture, I told my mom, "I am going to hell," to which she replied, "Yeah, you aren't the one who just bought a bunch of Virgin Mary banks" and I immediately asked, "Where do you put the money???" and she said in the back of her head. But still. At least I come by it honestly. And at least my mom will be there to pet my hair.

Update on previous post:
While going through the pictures on my phone, I found that I apparently snapped a picture of the only black guy in the bar.

I also seem to remember laughing so hard I could barely breathe and exclaiming, "Steph! He have a pantyhose on his head! A knee high pantyhose!" which he most likely heard as I was yelling it across the bar. I really need to learn to drink responsibly.

It's too many holes in my socks and I'm ready to box anyone tellin me I need betta shooooes

2010-02-18T13:57:00.000-08:00

Steph and I went out on Friday night. We went to this sports bar that does karaoke. This is actually the same bar that had the booty contest mentioned in the previous post. We like to go there for a particular reason which I am not going to mention on here because what you don't know (don't know! don't know!) might hurt you. Yes, I did go all Expose on you. Steph saw an old friend there named SugaShane. She says it is in reference to some boxer, but after meeting him, I think it has to do with the huge lines of cocaine that he snorts off his crotch rocket while listening to Linkin Park and wearing dude jewelry. She asked me to take this picture of her and Shane and send it to one of our friends.

So I did and instead of making a comment about her hot booty which is what I expected, he came back with something like, "Looks like you need to watch your wallet around that guy." He also said that her ex-boyfriend's new girlfriend looked like an ass with a 5 dollar haircut. He funneh.

I got pretty drunk and wound up doing a shot with a girl I don't know. It was called a Mind Eraser and it was in a big glass with two straws. I do not do shots and I do not drink after people. Ever. I probably have hepatitis now. My liver hurts.

I also rapped to "Diamonds in the Back" by Ludacris and kept looking at the only black guy in the bar and saying, "You know what I'm talkin bout!" Embarrassing.

OH, LIKE YOU DON'T DO IT

2010-02-04T13:36:00.000-08:00

I got a voicemail from a friend today. I really need to figure out how to extract them so I can play them for you. I will have to color my words (nice descriptive words, Crystal! Thanks, dude!) so you can get a better feel for it. She sounded rushed and quiet and I could tell she was totally groping the phone with her mouth. I wouldn't be surprised if her kids come out with curly cords and downloadable weather apps. Anyhow, this is what she said:

Oh my God, Crystal. Why can't you ever pick up the phone when I need you??? I just farted so loud that everyone near my office heard it. You're never there for me. What the fuck???

And then she dramatically hung the phone up. Dude, passing gas at work is the best. I sit in a cubicle, so I know all about it. And it never fails that someone is going to walk in immediately after you do it and you have no one to blame it on. The friend I just talked about keeps spray in her office so at least people will be like, "MMmmmmm is that Bath and Body Works new scent? It's a lovely plumeria scent with lots of farm undertones in it." It is hard to camouflage, dude.

My most embarrassing experience at work happened here. I have to say that I am pretty proud of myself because I totally put my embarrassment aside to get the job done.

I will admit that one of my biggest fears is experiencing the sneeze/poot combo when I am in a meeting. It will happen eventually, I am sure of it.

My great grandma can't hear so she just lets it go mid conversation and pretends that she didn't just ruin our senses for the rest of the day. Just because you can't hear doesn't mean we can't hear, Grandma! GOD! or smell for that matter. My friend says that old people know what they are doing and do it on purpose. Like they have some evil plan to make us change their pants. Initially, I must say that I was like, "No freaking way. That is embarrassing." but then after I thought about it, I decided that wiping my ass is a chore I may actually not mind having off my plate. I can't wait to have grandkids. It will be lovely!

If my tongue was that dirty, I wouldn't keep it in my mouth either

2010-02-04T07:33:00.000-08:00

I have 915 posts on this thing! 915! Effing crazy. Especially considering I have the tenacity of a fat kid in gym class. I can only say that because I was the fat kid in gym class. Ok, maybe I was just lazy, but still. I would hit myself with dodgeballs so I would be the first one out so I could hide behind the bleachers and pick my nose. In the 6th grade during gym I went through Melanie Neiburger's purse and found tampons and I announced, "Melanie has tampons!" and someone else rolled their eyes and said to me, "Maybe she needs those. GOD." and I said, "But she told me she is pregnant with Travis Tritt's baby so she shouldn't need them!" I may not have been athletic, but I was smart. Anyway, I have decided that I am going to blog more so I can get to 1,000 posts. Tomorrow, I will probably change my mind and think that 916 posts is good enough. Story of my life. I still have no idea how I graduated college.

Steph and I hang out a few times a week and "play cards". Since we have both gained weight in the past few months, we started an initiative to get our bodies back in viewing-naked order by walking a mile prior to card playing. The first day of this plan, we decided to go to McDonald's and then promptly follow that up with cards, cigarettes and way too much wine. Steph has one of those good jobs where she makes a ton of money, literally, if they paid her in pennies. She is all professional and kick ass and has gotten 4 raises in a year and a half. Dirty knees!!!!! Hah. Just kidding. Anyway, when we went to McDonald's, I ordered and when I was about to pay, I decided to be an awesome friend and buy her food too so I told the cashier, "I'm getting hers too" and then the cashier rolled her eyes and let out a click and a sigh and called her manager over to override the order. The manager asked why and the girl gave Steph the stank eye and said, "she ain't got no money....pshhhh....broke" and then she shook her head. Awesome.

I Love My Job

2010-02-02T13:24:00.000-08:00

For my job, I sometimes visit a warehouse out in East Texas. It is like Louisiana peed on the top bunk and it ran down and got on Texas' bottom bunk and Texas tried to move over but got covered in pee on the whole right third of the state. Don't get me wrong. I love both Louisiana and East Texas, but I've also been peed on and it is a weird feeling. Don't ask. Every time I visit, I learn something new.

Example 1. I was speaking to one of the managers over lunch who told me he couldn't come to my wedding because that is the same weekend as the Annual Squirrel Scramble in which a bunch of people get together, drink Pabst Blue Ribbon, shoot squirrels and then barbecue them. When I gasped, he told me they taste like chicken. Just go to the grocery store and buy a chicken then! I also learned that some folks eat raccoons.

Example 2. One of the contract truck drivers is always trying to rent out his inflatable doll to everyone. Only recently, he has had to drop his rates slightly because he bit her boob off. Then he put duct tape on it. Good as new! He is renting her out at full price again.

Example 3. One time I went on a date with a guy from East Texas. You can read about that here.

Also, I got to see a dead cow that a guy brought to work in the back of his truck the other day. It was kind of cute.

Small Town Saturday Night

2010-02-01T12:44:00.001-08:00

I grew up in a small town in Texas. My friends and I used to frequent this dancehall called Riverside in the neighboring town. Fun times. There was a country band called the Emotions, but they also sang songs like "Regulators" and "Baby Got Back". You haven't lived until you've seen a cowboy in Wranglers with visible nutcrampage breaking down some Warren G.

There was a band playing this weekend that my parents were going to and invited me, Ryan, Steph and one of our other friends along. Ryan couldn't go and our other friend was going to a going away party* so that left Steph and I to tear it up by ourselves. When we got there, we realized the band was for our parents generation and the young people were few and far between. There was also a lot of small town fashion. We spent the first hour there playing Punch-Vest-Made-Out-Of-A-Quilt, a newer rendition of Punch Bug. At one point, an older gentleman approached our table and asked, "Would either of you ladies like to dance?" Smooooth. Go for both of us. Steph wound up dancing with him. He was a good dancer and he smelled nice but he did have on a pair of khakis with huge pleats in them. If you squeezed him, some polka music might jump out of his pants. He is obviously single. Anyway, he came to sit with us later and the only seat available was next to me. He sat for awhile and my Dad sat across from him with his arms crossed staring at him. Apparently, my dad thought he was hitting on me and said, "He is lucky he got up when he did because I was about to tell him he was old enough to be your father and he had no business over here." Some things never change. My mom and dad danced so much. It was cute as hell.

My dad did teach me how to jitterbug and it was one of the best and most terrifying experiences of my life. I am sore. I think I have whiplash. I almost dislocated a hip. It was fun though and my dad is obviously way more physically fit than I am. My dad, who smokes cigarettes and then follows them up with breathing treatments and is 20 years older than me can whup me when it comes to stamina. Good feeling.

After Riverside, Steph and I were still wide awake and decided to go for a beer at a local bar in Burr (the population there is only about 50 people). We didn't have cash and they only took local checks (wtf! they don't even have a bank there!). So we were stuck. We were about to leave when the bartender told us to hang on and then screamed out, "HEEEY T-BOOOOONE! THESE LADIES AIN'T GOT NO MONEY!" I thought we were going to get our assess kicked, but then a cowboy came up and bought us drinks. His name is T-Bone. Ok. She may as well have yelled out, "FRESH MEAT!" because the amount of time it took us to be surrounded by men was maybe .03 seconds. I saw some people I went to high school with and got hit on by a guy who I later found out was a friend of mine's little brother who was just barely old enough to be in the bar. There was a set of twins there who were 24 and one of them hit on Steph. He put on his smart, mature hat and told her, "Eventually, I want to open a hotel in Hawa-yay cept for I don't wanna lose my US citizenship." She said, "You do realize Hawaii is actually a state in the US, don't you?" and he said, "Ok, maybe Cancun then."

* The going away party entailed a bar named Al's and a booty contest. I went through some pictures from that night on Facebook and found this one. The girl has obviously teed her pants or her asshole is crying. I am not sure which. Too bad we missed out on that.

I'm growin up

2010-01-20T08:50:00.000-08:00

Last year, we took a girl trip to NYC. We took a cab from Long Island to Manhattan. I was in the backseat with my sister-in-law and my 7 year old niece and I don't know if it was the insane driving or the overwhelming smell of Drakaar Noir, but she wound up turning green and telling her mom she didn't feel good. I bet you think you know where this is going and you're right about one part. She puked. And you know what my sister-in-law did???? She held her hand out so Kellie could violently dispense the lunch that had been festering inside her belly. Gross. Upon seeing that, smelling it and feeling the liquified chicken nuggets soak my jeans, I rolled down the window just enough to stick my nose out and started dry heaving. We still had a 30 minute cab drive to our hotel, which took a little longer because our cab driver stopped to help a stranded motorist and then stopped again to buy us pretzels out of the goodness of his heart. The rest of the weekend I kept asking my sister-in-law why she held her hand out. I was completely bewildered. She said it was just instict, but my instinct would have been to push the kid out of the car.

Last Thursday, Jeanie and I went to Target. It was rainy and cold and when we got into the store, there was a little white dog in there (we will call him philcollins). He was terrified and had obviously been in the rain for awhile. The Target "team members" were trying to catch him and dump him back out and he was running from everyone. I knelt down and he jumped right into my arms. He was covered in fleas and had a cut on his leg and was shaking so we took him home. It was almost 6 and we wanted to see if he was microchipped so before bathing him, Ryan and I took him to the Humane Society. He wasn't chipped. On the way home, Philcollins started doing this weird little dance. He looked like one of those inflatible tube men on top of stores that wave to get your attention and I was like ????????? and then I realized he was going to throw up and you know what I did??? I stuck my hand out. And he puked in it. There was an assortment of treasures in my hand including undigested weenie and popcorn and something plastic and Ryan pulled over so I could dump it and clean up a little. Thank God he didn't stop to help any Mets fans with bad batteries or decide it was time for a warm pastry.

When we got home, I bathed him in Dawn and treated him for fleas. Then I texted my sister-in-law and said, "I am going to be a good mom! I had puke in my hand today!!!" and she responded, "Great!!!! You will be!" and then I said, "Also, I scrubbed his butthole!!!" and she texted back, "Ok, you're crossing the line now." I suppose I should have told her it was Philcollins, but I liked her assuming I scrubbed Ryan's (*) . It makes me sound more mature.

I put ads out looking for the owner with no luck. I am having a hard time coming up with a name for him. Amber suggested Philcollins, so I am going to go with that for now. He likes to hump Ryan and Steph's dog, Peanut. Bogey likes to hump him. The other night, Ryan got video footage of some severe humping action between Bogey and Philcollins with his night vision camcorder and when I watch it, I expect Paris Hilton to show up and make a duck face. I would post it here for y'all's enjoyment, but I don't know how to work the video camera.

Any suggestions for names? He is twleve pounds and some type of terrier.

I took him to the vet yesterday and spent $260 on him and I haven't even gotten his nuts removed yet! So we will keep him for now. I am still open to finding him a kick ass owner though. We'll see. It may be hard to let him go. I think we did a little bit of bonding when he threw up in my hand.

Cancer is an Asshole, Dude

2009-12-16T06:20:00.001-08:00

I met this guy, Shawn, through blogging back in 2006. We were both single and shared male/female perspective with each other in order to dissect the dysfunctional people we met through online dating. And there were a lot! We both had dirty dating blogs to bitch about and make ruthless fun of our victims (or predators, as was the case most of the time).

In 2007, Shawn was diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer and started another blog here. He kept dating! He also kept going to the gym and playing softball and living life as normally as possible while fighting the battle of his life. He modeled for a colondar. At the bottom of that page, there are youtube videos of Shawn sharing his story. You should definitely watch. I am in awe of his spirit and his positive attitude. I regret not telling him that when he was alive.

Stephanie and I both ordered colondars from Shawn. In October, he signed them and sent them both to me. I kept forgetting to give Stephanie's to her. On December 13th, the day he passed (before I knew he passed), I put the colondar in the front seat of my truck so I could give it to her that day. And I forgot. I am mad at myself for that. Last night, Steph came over and she opened her calendar. The first line was "Steph, whenever we meet...." and went on to say some Shawn-type stuff that was hilarious. She immediately started bawling. She had gone to DC a couple of years ago for a funeral and decided, for whatever reason, not to meet up with him. She is mad at herself for that.

You know, it is weird, the people who affect our lives. I've never physically met Shawn, but we have shared friendship and swapped emotions and he has just a big of an impact on my life as any friend whom I see regularly. This has made me realize that I am not the friend I want to be. I don't let people know how amazing they are. He was so strong, I never thought cancer had a chance. Death can creep up on you and you are left with an ache and an emptiness. There is solace in knowing you've gotten to say goodbye, but all too often, we don't get that chance. I'm sorry, friend, for never telling you how much I respected you and for sometimes not answering IMs or emails or phone calls because I was lazy. Our last communication was on October 30th. We were discussing his treatment options and he remarked that he was afraid he may not pick the right one.

Cancer is scary to me. I have lost several family members to it and I think I have tendency to avoid the fact that people I love were/are terrorized by it. I have to quit being scared.

It is important to tell the people you love that they rock. Even if you have never had coffee with them or gone to a Pitt game together. Emotionally and spiritually, we are connected and that is what matters.

Oops I crapped my pants

2009-12-03T05:40:00.000-08:00

I was catching up on reading blogs this morning and I came across this one from one of my favorite bloggers. Holla Meshealle! So I was going to leave a comment, but it would have been waaaaay too long so I decided to post about it. Plus, I don't think I ever told Ryan this story and he may be slightly amused or completely disgusted. I'll take my chances.

It's about poop, y'all.

Back before Ryan discovered that I actually had bowel movements, we decided to go watch a UFC Fight at Jamie & Dave's. I kinda felt my butt falling asleep while I was getting ready, but I ignored it because I was running late and he was going to be there any minute. This apparently also happened before Ryan knew that I don't wake up with eyeliner on.

So he picked me up and we headed over. Then he did something completely outrageous considering my state. HE PICKED UP TACO BELL AND I WAS FORCED TO EAT A BURRITO. Immediately after the third bite hit my belly, I felt some creaking in my basement. This is never a good sign. By the time we got to Dave and Jamie's, I was in full on clench and breathe carefully mode. I was also sweating and shaking. I wasn't about to go drop a bomb in Jamie's bathroom so I text messaged Steph, please call me in 5 minutes. That was the longest 5 minutes of my life. Finally, she called and I had a fake conversation with her and asked Ryan if I could borrow his keys. He decided it was a good time to get inquisitive so instead of saying something that made any sense, I told him that Steph and I had been shopping and she left a bag in my car and I needed to go get it to her because she had a date and she had absolutely nothing else to wear because she hadn't done laundry in two weeks, ya know, busy with work and she has that volunteer thing that she does. It was completely obvious that I was lying, but he surrendered his keys to me anyway.

As soon as I was out the door, I was running like Fred Flintstone with my knees together and going as fast as my little ankles could carry me to his truck. My apartment was only about 15 minutes away. I kept verbally assuring myself that I was going to make it. I realized very quickly that I was not, so I pulled into the first gas station I saw (I loathe public bathrooms). It was ghetto. Like, there were bars on the windows and I went through a gauntlet of crackheads asking me for money. As soon as the clerk saw my face, he pointed to the bathroom. I didn't need to ask. The bathroom was in a part of the gas station that used to be a fast food place so it was dark and there was this long hallway. There was a homeless guy following me too, but I finally started to see the light at the end of the tunnel. The toilet looked clean! Praise Jesus! Then I realized something terrifying. The bathroom did not have a working lock. Aw, fuck. When I opened the door again, the homeless guy was standing there smiling at me. I really started weighing my options between going anyway and risk getting raped by a man that smelled like Old English and dumpster or not going and possibly having a disastrous accident in Ryan's vehicle.

I hate Old English and I am sure his balls hadn't been washed with anything besides his own saliva in the past two years. So I left. I made it to my apartment and, for some reason, what I am about to say almost seems too personal to share. Weird, huh? Anyway, I let out a moan that probably made my neighbors think that I was getting railed by a really hot guy in nothing but ankle socks. Like a moan with a twinge of defeat that said, "THIS IS AWESOME! but seriously?? ankle socks???"

I made it back to the party. I am sure I was glowing at that point. Ryan asked me if I really went to meet up with another guy. I kept with my original story. Sorry I lied. You probably wish I would lie more often instead of nowadays when I get up and announce "poop!" before leaving the room.

Aaaaand that happened

2009-10-25T20:32:00.000-07:00

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.....

2009-10-05T19:13:00.000-07:00

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

2009-10-02T10:21:00.001-07:00

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....

2009-10-02T09:33:00.000-07:00

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...

2009-09-18T09:18:00.000-07:00

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

2009-08-31T10:26:00.001-07:00

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

2009-08-28T10:29:00.000-07:00

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...

2009-08-22T22:37:00.000-07:00

FINE THEN.

2009-08-21T12:44:00.000-07:00

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...

2009-08-21T06:49:00.001-07:00

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

2009-08-10T08:54:00.000-07:00

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

2009-08-03T14:57:00.000-07:00

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.

2009-07-28T13:07:00.000-07:00

Dude, Amber totally gave me an award! When I read my name, I immediately thought that either the doctor hooked her up with some sweet ass street drugs for her broken arm or that her judgement has been severely compromised from getting to see Jordan Knight shirtless TWICE considering I have only been blogging once a month and it has been about such hilarious subjects as death and fart jars. So I have concluded that this is a pity award, so I will take it like the several pity dates men took me on in college only I won't guilt her into sex and then call her incessantly for the next 6 days telling her I might be pregnant.

Thanks, Amber!

I do have a few things to talk about today. OK, maybe just one for today. I will spread it out. I am the best spreader in 6 counties.

1. My brother is super smart and he knows everything about everything and if he doesn't he will make up something that sounds like it would work and I will believe it until I am in college and arrogantly expound infront of 15 people on how the foam in the river is snake spit so we should take extreme precaution when floating in foamy areas. Anyway, I had a conversation with my mother the other day that went like this:

Me: Travis is just so smart. He knows everything about everything.

Mom: You are smart too!

Me: Nu-uh!

Mom: Yes-huh.

Me: At what?

Mom: (long silence) well, you know more facts about deer/vehicle collisions than any person I know!

I am sure she is stoked that she spent over $30,000 on my college education.

2009-07-16T13:21:00.001-07:00

While looking through pictures for my grandpa's memorial, I found this. That is my grandma and my dad and Aunt Melody. Sometimes mamma just gotta drown a bitch.

That was tasteless. It is one of those pictures that I look at and think there are so many good captions for, but I am not clever enough to come up with even one.

My grandparents got married after knowing each other for 2 weeks. My grandpa always told me he did it so quickly because she wouldn't roll around in the bluebonnets with him otherwise.

Then I found these pictures of my grandpa when he was a young buck and I got some very awkward feelings that people that are related to each other should not experience ever. Anyway, I am pretty sure I know now why my grandma married him.

I wish I could have known them when they were younger.

Things that made me laugh yesterday

2009-07-02T13:40:00.000-07:00

1. Steph called me. She works in HR. She was laughing so hard she could barely get the words out and she goes, "I just got this email and it says, "Please inform me of the process for change my wife name from Anna Poopisuit to Anna Pisasuit". That sucks.

2.
Knock Knock

Who's there?

Not Michael Jackson!

Steph told that joke to Jenny and Jenny said, "Well, ok, who is it then???"

Father Eric made me do it

2009-07-01T11:45:00.000-07:00

Ok, so update on my cousin and then I will talk about fabulous things. First of all, thanks for all the comments! Some of them really got me talking to my family about stuff that needed to be talked about. The kid is adamant he had a boating accident even though the closest he has ever come to anything boat related was three years ago when he skied down a gravel road on a refrigerator door pulled by a pick up. He got an MRI and a spinal tap and everything came back clear. He hasn’t exhibited signs of depression; he still goes to work and school without being told and apparently likes to party (noted by the human teeth imprints left on his upper thigh). He just gets mad because he doesn’t want to follow rules and, apparently, has no conscience. He is in a psychiatric facility, but they can only keep him for 7 days. I am sure glad he made it so I can be pissed at him. Mad is always better than sad.

Jay actually left a ridiculously sincere comment so I know I am being way too pathetic and need to get back to writing about fart jars and gay men wearing leather while masturbating and smoking on youtube. Smoking cigarettes, people.

I went skinny dipping in a saltwater pool on Friday night. I don’t think I have done that since college. Wait. I may have at a party a couple of years ago but there was no water involved; just a couple of very embarrassed family members. I can’t talk about that here though. I also can’t talk about how the dog fell into the pool three seconds after I realized that my plug was missing (not a good feeling, ladies and gentlemen). The dog can swim, but I wouldn’t describe him as a confident swimmer, so basically what had happened is that the dog was trying to get his ball and fell in and immediately started looking at Ryan like, “HOLY GOD GET THE SONOFABITCH LIFE SAVING POLE AND WHILE YOU’RE DOING THAT, I WILL CONTINUE TO THRASH VIOLENTLY, THUS SCRATCHING ANYONE WITHIN 2 FEET INCLUDING MY OWN STOMACH WHICH I WILL THEN RUB ALL OVER YOUR LIGHT GRAY INTERIOR WHEN YOU DRIVE ME HOME AT 4AM” and at the same time, I was looking at Ryan like, “Where the fuck is my tampon?” and Ryan was like, “One crisis at a time, baby” and he swam over to the dog. I loves a man who take contro. I didn’t actually wind up losing anything, btw. I had it the whole time. Details get sketchy after a bottle of wine and the euphoria that comes from kicking a cocky dude’s at dominoes.

I keep getting in trouble in the horse class because I keep trying to make my horse run when the instructor is not looking and I get caught and yelled at every time. Probably because every time the horse starts running, I involuntarily go, “Wahoooooooooooo!!!” and draw attention to myself which I also get in trouble for. Apparently, you’re not supposed to scream when you’re on their backs because it freaks them out. Who knew?

So....

2009-06-23T06:09:00.000-07:00

I feel like I shouldn't be writing about this, but then maybe the statistics shoot up every year because it is such a taboo subject.

I have a 17 year old cousin who comes from a good family (brushin my shouldas off), drives a nice car, is popular, has nice clothes. He lives in a small town and has recently been fighting with his parents about curfews and drinking/pot...normal stufff that most kids fight with their parents about. Well, kids that don't know how to just do it and get away with it like me (just kidding, Mom!). Anyway, after a fight with his parents, he hung himself on Friday. His mom found him hanging in the closet by a ripped up pillow case. She cut him down and did mouth-to-mouth. He was life-flighted to Houston where he stayed in a coma on life support for about 30 hours. My aunt and uncle had no idea if he was going to make it or, if he did, if he would have permanent brain damage. Luckily, he woke up early Sunday morning. Since he was intibated(sp?), he was unable to talk, but communicated by blinking. They took out the tube yesterday and he was able to talk. He doesn't appear to have suffered any brain damage, but he is very confused. He told the nurse he was in a boating accident and almost drown. When I was there yesterday, he asked his mom if he was sick. He's got a huge bruise all the way around his neck and he feels absolutely miserable physically. It is going to be a long road to recovery.

This has been absolutely heartbreaking for my family. I hope that this will call attention to a very serious problem that is on the rise. More teens are committing suicide now than ever. Please be sensitive and watch for warning signs. They don't realize how precious they are.

Update: Psyche came to visit my cousin. He swears up and down he was in a boating accident and that his parents have some sort of conspiracy thing going on. He thinks the bruise around his neck is from the oxygen and thinks the doctors are saying what his parents want them to. They moved him to a regular room and have a 24-hour sitter with him. Does anyone know about this type of thing? Is his denial typical for this type of thing?

Fu Man Chu

2009-06-11T11:37:00.000-07:00

I went to get a manicure/pedicure last week and while I was there, I decided to get my eyebrows waxed. When the lady was done ruthlessly tearing out my eyebrow hair, she goes, "Wan me geh yo rip?" so I smiled and nodded becuase I can't understand foreigners and just agree with everything they say. I guess I assumed she was asking me if I was sleepy or wanted her to slather baby oil all over my body. So then she gets her little popsicle stick with wax all over it and started coming at my face with it and I was like, "Whoa, there! Where ya goin with that??" and she goes, "I geh yo rip" and then it hit me. She is trying to wax my LIP. SHE THINKS I HAVE A MUSTACHE. WTF. OMG, y'all. I told her no way, dude, because I know if I let her put that wax on my lip, it will grow back thick and black and I will look like this. So I spent the rest of the weekend asking people if they thought I had a mustache and severely judging them if they gave anything close to an affirmative answer.

Example:
Crystal: Do you think I have a mustache?
Friend: No
Crystal: Seriously, look at me in the sunlight
Friend: OK, you may have a tiny little bit of peach fuzz
Crystal: Well, you're fugly and your credit score fucking sucks

Not a good time for anyone last weekend.

Also, fried cauliflower is delicious.

ear wiggling awesomeness

2009-06-05T13:23:00.000-07:00

1. My mom and I went horseback riding last night. This is the horse I rode:

His name is Amir. I love him and I didn't want to leave. We had a great time. It was exactly like a date except for I didn't have to perform the obligatory thanks-for-the-cheeseburger handjob so he would leave my house early.

2. There is a photoshop contest at work and by photoshop contest, I mean the guys are so bored that they capture their foul body smells in mud sample jars and ask people to pull their finger and microsoft paint each other in precarious situations. I mean! They took this picture of me on a fishing trip and put Jason's head on it!!! Real mature, guys.

Nice tits, Jason.

These are grown men! Ok, so I gave in and this is my first photoshop:

One of the things I like best about the above photos is that there is absolutely no sign of any effort to make them look realistic at all.

I like my job today.

So there is this guy at work...

2009-05-28T12:50:00.000-07:00

...and I am pretty sure he wanted to do me until I threatened to kick him in the feelings a few weeks ago at the bar that "is tame before 7" (the long tiddied bar, the big fat liars). Well, 10 minutes ago he brought to me a jar that is normally storage for mud samples and I did not open it (Praise Jesus) as I found out later that it contained his fart. Since he doesn't want to do me anymore, he has obviously moved on to disrespecting me with his sour ass package.

I am still here, yo

2009-05-28T10:31:00.000-07:00

1. So last week I went to Midland/Odessa for work. My company gave me these fancy peen-pulling wheels so I can cruise around and pick me up some West Texas cowboys. The girl at the car rental place was like, "all we have ready is a minivan. is that ok?" and I was like, "No" and then she was like, "SIGH, alright, I will go clean one for you" and there was a line behind me and I was like, "fine" and then she gave me the keys and I was walking out to the lot and I was thinking, "Please don't let it be that one at the end. Please don't let it be spot #43". No such luck.

Once inside, I was impressed with the roominess, the side impact airbags and the 7 passenger seating and the fact that no other minivan has a higher safety rating, but I refused to like it simply because it would make me slightly less awesome to people who don't know how awesome I am for real. When I was a kid, our family had a ford aerostar which was not embarrassing at all and whenever my mom drove around corners, my dad would squeeze the armrests and go, "Goddammit, Sarah! THIS THING IS TOP HEAVY!" which was not terrifying in itself at all so I took the corners slowly. My dad would be so proud.

2. I got home from work a couple of weeks ago and leaned down to get my purse and then all of the sudden, Ryan's house ran into me. or maybe I forgot to put it in the "P" gear. So I jumped out and ran around to the front of the vehicle and there was no damage to my bumper. Whew! Dodged that bullet. Now no one will ever know! And then Ryan called me that evening when I was out and said, Did you run into the house? and I was like, What are you talking about?? And then he told me that the house looked like it was about to fall down.

3. I went to my friend, Audrey's graduation and following party. I made fun of every graduate that tripped on the stairs and then right after they called Audrey's name, I bolted and tripped on the stairs in front of everyone so that was awesome. Also, some friends and I made a whirlpool in the swimming pool by running around the sides of the pool and then I woke up inside a school bus on a wheel hump.

4. Friday night I went to another dildo party and my mom also went so that wasn't awkward. It especially wasn't awkward when the lady tied me up, blindfolded me, called me a bad girl and spanked me in front of her. Then we had to pass a giant rubber double dick from person to person without using our hands.

Monday, my dad called and asked if Ryan and I wanted to go to my nephew's baseball game. Our conversation went like this:

Me: I don't think so, Dad. I am getting a urinary tract infection.

Dad: Well, maybe if you didn't play with those double headed dildos

Me: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Dad!

Dad: It's ok. I have been to those parties before...

Me: Oh God

Dad: ...as a prop

Me: Dad! Grode!!!

Dad: Don't worry. It was a small party if you know what I mean.

So in addition to a urinary tract infection, I also have severe psychological trauma.

5. And just in case you didn't know...

6. I am spending the weekend in Fort Worth because Nanci is getting married! Wooooooooooooooo! Love me some Fort Worth. It is like Austin but with more cowboy boots.

2009-05-04T12:04:00.001-07:00

I got a new job, yo! Except for it is at the same company and I am going to be doing the exact same thing! The only difference is I am going to be closer to home. I am kind of bummed because I like traveling and I am pretty sad that I won't be getting anymore boudin anytime soon or dodging requests to look at a particular manager's balls or learning how to do the sexy fat man dance (hair toss hair toss, belly rub, shimmy shimmy). I will get to go to West Texas. I've never been there before, but hear I should take precaution because the dust storms there could break your skin and also I knew a guy from there in college who stole all of my camera equipment and syphened the gas out of my car so that should be exciting... Our company underwent a massive reorganization and 25% of people got laid off! How I convinced them to keep me is beyond my comprehension. I seriously have been so busy, I can hardly make a decent b.m. but if you ask me what I have been doing, I will just look at you all empty-like and ask you to repeat yourself, but use different words and then I will just get angry and change the subject to how uncoordinated you are or how you look like you've been gaining weight in your face.

We had a team meeting 3 days in a row last week. For this team build, we went bowling. Prior to bowling, I decided to meet one of my work friends out at happy hour. They tricked me into going into a semi-tiddy bar which I will probably have to post about separately once I recover from the memory of the longest boobies I have ever seen. So then I met my team for bowling and my new boss was carrying a pitcher of beer and he spilled a tiny bit on the carpet and this strange guy ran over to the spot like he was tracking an errant golfball at the US Open and pointed at it and started yelling, "You spilled beer! You spilled beer!" and so I went over to him and he started yelling about how it will GET ON HIS TOES! and how I am an AMATUER and how he plays for money, he doesn't come in and DISREPECT OTHER PLAYERS TOES. wtf. And that guy looked like this:

So I immediately thought, you know, this guy needs to get laid or something because that is really the only reason people are ever assholes and then I saw him go sit down next to this lady in matching clothes who was looking at him all cow-eyed so obviously he was hittin dat. I guess I would be mad too though if all I had to wear was cut off blue jean shorts and a ponytail and an American flag shirt with an eagle and a Harley on it.

I am showing you a picture of what Bogey does when he rides with me in my car. He gazes at me with such admiration, I feel like I'm It. Also, it appears that this 80lb dog is the same size as my ginormous hand.

Thank You So Much!

2009-04-24T10:52:00.000-07:00

Everyone who went and donated to Denise or offered her words of support or included her in your prayers, thank you so much! Johnny Virgil, Matt, Bronx, Nikki, Mop! I know a lot of you by blog names and not by real names so if you donated thank you thank you thank you!

It means a lot to me that there are people out there who care. We are all going to need help sometime. It's nice to know that we have people to lean on even if we have never met.

You guys are fucking RAD.

She is my friend...

2009-04-21T07:00:00.000-07:00

Prior to the job I have now, I worked for a major corporation. When I started there four years ago, I felt extremely out of place. There used to be this kid, Paul, in my 2nd grade math class and everytime the teacher asked a question, Paul would flop around in his chair like a dying goldfish and wave his arm frantically in the air make "OOOoooo!!! Oooooo!!" noises while I sat in the back of the class eating chalk. Working there was like working with a thousand Pauls. Denise was pretty much my first friend there...someone I could really trust and I spent hours in her office griping about boyfriends and work and plotting to jump people at 3:15.

Denise and I became very close and I started depending on her for her moral support and her blunt advice. About a year ago, Denise found a tumor in her breast and was diagnosed with a staph infection. It was really breast cancer and she didn't find out until 9 months later. So they diagnosed her with Stage 2 breast cancer. After another medical miscalculation, she found that it has spread to her bones (4 of her vertebrae) and possibly her liver and brain. This would put her in stage 4 which is terminal.

Not to get too personal here, but Denise is a contractor and doesn't have health insurance. Also, if she doesn't work, she doesn't get paid. Her options at this point are going to be very hard on her body, her emotions and will be very very expensive as well. Please check out her website and donate if you feel inclined. She needs all the emotional and monetary support she can get. Her co-workers are also throwing her a spaghetti lunch fundraiser in May here in Houston. If you want to come, email me here.

She is a very special, beautiful person who is too young and full of life to be facing this kind of obstacle. I never ask people for money (parents and boyfriends excluded), but this is very very important to me. If you don't want to or are unable to donate funds, please stop by her blog and offer her words of support. She needs as much positive energy as she can get.

Denise rocks the house, y'all!

Boudin Mmmm Mmmmm

2009-04-14T05:20:00.000-07:00

I had to come to Louisiana on the fly this week as one of my fellow HS&E Specialists had the need for some help and I am nothing if not helpful. I may take up a lot of time with random questions, but I am good at moral support. My dad bought my mom a t-shirt one time and it said, "I may be slow...but I'm good". I'm exactly like that shirt if you add "at hugs" to the end.

Anyway, this is what breakfast in Louisiana looks like. Fucking yum, right? So I was all, "May I have a fork and a knife?" because I am nothing if not a lady and the guy was like, "Just wrapa napkin round it and suck the meat out." Riiiiight. So I did and it is super delicious even though I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the window and it looks like I am severely enjoying a ripe turd. I had half a mind to break it up with a coat hanger first.

2009-04-08T08:40:00.000-07:00

1. This morning, I was walking into work with a guy who was telling me about how his 4 year old son had brain surgery last weekend for a tumor on his pituitary gland and I looked at him straight in they eye and was all, "That's awesome" That is NOT awesome. I seriously need to quit saying "that's awesome" to everything especially things that are obviously not awesome. To make matters worse, it is the same guy who makes the chemicals in my brain think it's the freestyle portion of the dance competition and I always wind up saying or doing stupid stuff.

2. I taught Bogey how to shake and how I did that was forced him to raise his paw and stuffed a treat in his maw and I did it, like, 56 times in about 20 minutes. I also taught him to get in the basket and how I did that was that I followed him around with a laundry basket and then I would place it on the floor in front of him and I would be like, "GET IN THE BASKET!!!!.....GET IN THE BASKET!!!!" over and over until he got in the basket and that took me about 4 hours. 4 hours that Ryan sat patiently and supressed his urge to turn my vocal cords into a lanyard keychain like they do at Boyscout Camp. Hot socks, those boyscouts.

I have to go eat now. K thx.

eloy is a four eyes fat kid hahaha loser

2009-03-27T15:18:00.000-07:00

I was looking for information regarding anatomy of the ear and ran across this Wikipedia page that some kids had gotten to before me. Click on it to make it bigger and LOL @ Sergio because he smells like pooop.

I am going to be traveling for at least the next 3 weeks so I probably won't be around much. Boooooo. I kinda miss my old job where all I had to do was blog and dodge requests that included doing any actual work.

2009-02-23T13:03:00.000-08:00

I know I have been posting about a lot of work things lately. It's all I do nowadays. It's not so bad, really. I spend way less time stressing myself out over what color order to eat my skittles in accordance with the side of my mouth I am chewing them on. On the other hand, I haven't accidentally rubbed my breasts against people who would be disgusted if they knew it was really on purpose in over three weeks. Sad.

I thought working at ExxonMobil may have increased my maturity level by at least a few percent. The other day, I was listening to a guy with no teeth explain the importance of safety glasses and he said, "This is what we don't do. This is what we do do." and I suppressed laughter for the rest of the entire presentation. Safety Joe said doodoo. LOL @ Joe.

I had to take an auditing class a couple of weeks ago. There are observations, findings and major findings and we had to look at some pictures and determine which one was represented. So they showed a picture of a guy on a scaffolding and I yelled out, "Fanny pack! Major Finding!" And nobody laughed and the instructor looked at me and said, "Um... no. This is an observation" and then he rolled his eyes like I am some box of rocks. First of all, that was fucking hilarious. Second of all, wearing a fanny pack in 2009 is a HUGE nonconformance.

OMG Y'ALL

2009-02-13T13:54:00.000-08:00

i just received a metric fuckton of horrible pictures that make the gunshot one below look like a papercut. not even from cardstock. or a greeting card. or even a greeting card envelope. like a papercut from kleenex. i am now conflicted about showing them.

however, i will still post the wire in the eyeball. please keep in mind that this is small potatuhs compared to what is sitting in my inbox right now. he only removed his safety glasses for a couple of minutes. this wire was lodged a half-inch inside his eyeball. this didn't happen at the company i work for, btw.

And I will leave you with a quote from a wise, wise man that I was subjected to every Sunday of my entire freaking childhood.

"Before we use any power tools, let's take a moment to talk about shop safety. Be sure to read, understand, and follow all the safety rules that come with your power tools. Knowing how to use your power tools properly will greatly reduce the risk of personal injury. And remember this: there is no more important safety rule than to wear these — safety glasses."

Valentine's Day and other stuff that's red

2009-02-13T08:28:00.000-08:00

Tonight we are celebrating Valentine's Day. I have no idea what we're doing, but Ryan says it is only a quarter of a mile from the house which leads me to believe he is taking me for a picnic in the mosquito farm/half finished park with nails on the ground and a whopper-jawed playscape. I am kind of nervous. He is pretty good at romantical stuff though. I think he knows that if I don't get a good Valentine's Day, he will not get a good March 14 . I hope he brings some Off.

In other news, I am freaking busy as all get out in my semi-new job. We had a training this week where I had to give 5 presentations. 5! I seriously think I am developing an ulcer. Although, I did get to say "suck it" in room full of people so that was nice. Since I am a safety girl now, I have access to all types of good stuff. It's been awhile since I posted something gross. Another safety specialist sent me this picture of his friend's shoulder:

It's a gunshot wound (both entry and exit, baby!) from a 25-09(?). If it wasn't so fascinating, I'd probably puke. I think this happened in Louisiana on a hunting trip.

I also have a picture of a guy who has a wire sticking out of his eyeball, but I will save that one for another day. I don't want to show you my entire bag of tricks on the first go-round cuz then you won't talk to me anymore and I will pretend that I don't care and then wind up drawing a cock-n-balls on your windshield in lipstick and keying foul names into your driver side door.

I got tagged

2009-02-03T14:56:00.000-08:00

by Sassy Pants Mama.

Here is the purse I am carrying. I got it when I went to New York with my mom and her friend who has a 23 year old son that speaks 4(!!!) different languages. He talked the guy in a hidden room down about $30 and settled on $25 and when he was finished, I was all, "Thanks for speakin oriental to that guy for me. Can I borrow 25 bucks?" So I got the bag. The fabulous fake Gucci bag that looks pretty real to me. I was all excited til I got home and realized people may actually think I paid $800 for a purse. I could hear their thoughts, "Why is she wearing red fake plastic Walmart crocs and carrying a Gucci bag??" "She should have spent that $800 on microderm abrasion instead of grossly priced accessories" So now I try to hide the label so that it is facing my body, but people still notice. Still, it is damn cute and I will work it.

What is in it?

1. My mom's friend gave me a bag from the Museum of Modern Art in NY and it is rad. I carry my make up in it.

2. Wallet

3. NoDoz - I can't sleep at work anymore. Damn cubicles.

4. A half of a leaf

5. Elkskin coinpurse that my mom got me from Norway. It reminds me of a kangaroo scrotum and it smells delicious.

6. 10 Zip ties. You never know.

7. A brush for my nap

8. A straw

Look at these boots I got this weekend! They are awesome.

I don't know a lot about boots. These are Lucchese boots. I had to ask for them at the counter and I said, "I got boots waiting. They are the Loo-cheese-ies" and she looked at me like she was trying to figure out if I was just trying to be funny or if I really was that dumb and then she said, "You mean, 'Lou Casey'?" Yeah, those. Good stuff, these things. I am going to wear them with dresses and hook up with drug dealers that I barely know in alleys on top of cars so people will quit threatening my family; drug dealers that I will subsequently hire to help me run my grow house.

He didn't say "Open Wide!" Boooooo.

2009-01-29T10:28:00.000-08:00

So I went to see Steph's hot doctor, who I found to be moderately-so-so-if-you're-into-that-kind-of-thing-cute. He did look like Enrique Iglesias cept for he was just a wee wittle man, which made him more of an adorable rather than a hot. I think, when rating a man's looks, you have to take into consideration what he does for a living. Like, of course, generally this guy gets more points because he is a young doctor. If he would have been a firefighter, he probably wouldn't seem as hot because firefighters are generally super good looking in their yellow pants and suspenders with no shirts and soot all over their bulging pecs. Know what I mean? And don't go calling me shallow or anything because guys rate chicks the same way. Like if you found out an average looking girl was a fighter pilot, she would probably get extra hot points for that, whereas if you found out she was a Hooters girl, she may get points knocked off because she is not as hot as you would expect a Hooters girl to be. It's all relative. And I have nothing to worry about because even though my looks are just under average, I am a Health, safety and Environmental Specialist and who doesn't want to put that notch in their belt?

Anyway, so I don't think I will be going back to this doctor and it's not because of his looks. It is because I have a twelve year old sense of humor and every time he said the word "vagina", I had to either suppress a fit of giggling or try not to break out in hives from embarrassment. DUDE WAS TALKING ABOUT MY VAGINA. TO MY FACE. Plus, since he was so young, it was like talking to my brother about my vagina. It would have been easier if he woulda been like, "Your hooha looks happy" or "That's a niiiiiiiice nonny." What. I know that's what he was really thinking.

And just in case you were thinking it, I never really talk to my brother about vagina cept for this one time, I was watching Platoon with my dad and they said pussy and I asked my dad what a pussy was and he got all embarrassed and said, "it's what's between your legs. now go get me some vienna sausages and crackers" and when I came back he had changed the channel. I thought the "your"in that sentence was meant as a general "you" and not a specific "you" so the next time I fought with my brother, I yelled out, "give me that basketball or I'm gonna kick you in the pussy!" and then he punched me in the face.

And that is pretty much the extent of vagina conversation I ever had with my brother.

I don't even care what you think! So there!

2009-01-29T09:46:00.000-08:00

I am reading the Twilight series. No spoilers here. Holy crap. I can't stop. I had heard about it from several different people. My big brother even read it and he comes from a place where it is perfectly acceptable for the dog catcher to carry around a .22 instead of leashes and where conversations after church consist of how to effectively catch & drown whatever rodent has made it into your barn. And, he read it in one night. He says it was because his daughter was sick and kept him up, but I know better than that. He wanted to know if Bella was going to do sex with Edward. So, after I read the first book, I dragged Ryan to watch the movie. I was kind of disappointed. If I would have seen the movie before I read the book, I wouldn't have read the book. Ryan even fell asleep. But let me tell you...and I am not one to get all pussy crazy over movie stars...and Ryan, baby, I love you more than anything...but holy crap the first time they showed Edward, I got all wet. And that was because my mouth hit my neck and drool started pouring out all over my t-shirt and I had to shove popcorn in it to plug it up. The deficit caused by cheesiness and lack of character development was compensated for by the good looking vampires. There were even some hot vampires for Ryan to scope out. Worth the $8.

I just finished the 3rd book and I am trying to put off buying the 4th one for awhile because I don't want it to be over.

Y'all need to read the shit.

don't normally look forwards to mondays, but...

2009-01-23T13:07:00.000-08:00

i have to go to the lady doctor on monday. my lady doctors have always been lady doctors. steph's lady doctor is a dude. apparently he is very hot. i told her, "how can you have a hot gynocologist??? isn't that a little weird?" and she said, "well, what did you do this afternoon while i was having my vagina probed for 30 minutes by an enrique iglesias look alike?" and i said, "what is his phone number?"

so i am going to see him. let the vagina probing begin!

another incredibly personal thing about steph that i know she will be very happy that i told my readers, mom and lee pace, is that i picked her up from her surgery a couple of weeks ago. she was very groggy still and i stood by her bed while the nurse gave me post-surgery instructions. steph was out of it and would pick up her head every now and then to whisper "where is my fallopian tube?" the girl was in another world. so the nurse says, "peri-rest (sp?) for 2 weeks" and i was all "what the heck is peri-rest?" and the nurse made sort of a fisting motion and said, "nothing inserted into the vagina for two weeks" and steph picked up her groggy arm to do a fist pump and whispered, "yessssssss" i asked the nurse if she could prescribe "oral rest" as well and she gave me a look like the old dude at home depot when i asked him where they kept the black caulk and then told him i don't care what kind of caulk it is, i just really need some black caulk. so, sorry steph, i tried.

2009-01-15T06:42:00.000-08:00

I got tagged by SassyPantsMommy to list 10 things about me.

1. I just watched Donnie Darko for the first time. I loved it. In fact, I moved it to my top 3 favorite movies. And there wasn't even any nudity in it! I'm growin up.

2. When I was 11, I tried out for a singing and dancing chior in my school who sang such classics as "Chocolate, Give Me Chocolate!" and "Skateboarding Santa" and we had to sing "America the Beautiful" for try outs and after I sang it, Mrs. Bollom shook her head and told me, "You're lucky you can dance."

3. I like having my feet sat on.

4. Ryan grew a beard out over the holidays and holy crap was it the hottest thing I have ever seen in my life. Every day, he would threaten to shave and every day I would spend several minutes begging him not to. I curse the day he did shave it off. Well, actually the day after he shaved it off because I didn't even notice the first day but I miss it terribly and I am sure all the ladies that saw him at work and the grocery store do too. Oh well, a few less bitches I got to beat off.

5. Steph gave me some Mighty Mendit for my birthday and holycrap. Best. Birthday. Present. Ever. You should go by some I am not even kidding. It is awesome. And! It even comes with some Mighty GemIt! for free!

6. Every day, the guy in the cube next to me says, "Want some candy, little girl?" and then he pelts me with Hershey kisses over the cube wall. Anytime someone asks him how his day is, he says "Not too bad for a Monday!" even if it is a Wednesday or a Friday. Yesterday, he spent a good ten minutes telling jokes to some guy on speakerphone that didn't make any sense. "How do you bury an Aggie? Get a post hole digger and dig a hole that is 6 inches in diameter and 6 feet deep and then give the Aggie an enema" What? And the guy on the other line must have been a sales guy because he was just a hootin and hollerin and telling him how hilarious he was. I could never be a sales guy.

7. I am thinking of installing a bicep pull thing in my company truck like on Over the Top.

I will do three more later. Got busted

Hi there.

2009-01-14T11:39:00.001-08:00

1. I have already posted about my passion for toilets so I don’t need to go into how much I bitterly hate people who use their urethra like a lawn sprinkler. Come on ladies, it isn’t like we have wieners that get away from us when we aren’t paying attention. So I went to use the facilities at work the other day and I ran into this

I was so pissed, I whipped out my phone and started to take a picture when another woman came in and busted me. I bet she thinks I did it now. I bet she told everyone at the office that I was the one who had Wipefest 2009 in the ladies bathroom. The lady at the next cube to me was making farting noises, which I assume is a form of passive-aggressive taunting. So now, I have to find a way to prove to everyone that the mess made in the bathroom was not mine. I have a really hard life, y’all. This isn’t fair.

2. Lately, I have seen an abundance of nutsacks hanging from trucks. I am all for the balls, but this is a little too much. I am pretty sure this only happens in places like Texas and maybe Arkansas and Louisiana and maybe a bit in Oklahoma oh and some parts of Alabama. Do they think they are better than me??? Is that what it is??? Because I have not assigned gender to my vehicle in the form of bright blue plastic ballsbags??? When I see it, I get angry and pull up next to them and scream “I’m gonna kick your ass, you son of a bitch!” I have to quit doing that though because now I am in a company truck and I saw this girl write down my license plate number. However, if I do get fired for this, it will be well worth it.

Not today, asphalt!

2008-12-30T16:14:00.000-08:00

I am writing from the hospital because yesterday my dad got into a motorcyle accident. A pickup ran a stop sign and my pops swerved to miss him and laid the bike down and then he laid his ribs and shoulder and head down on the street and when I say he laid them down, I mean the road knocked the shit out of him. He is alive, but he has 4 broken ribs (2 of them in 2 places) and his lung is bruised. Yeah, my dad is hardcore. What.

The accident happened in the morning, but I didn't find out til the afternoon so when I saw my brother, I was all WTF, Trav? and he was like, "If I woulda told you before I found out he was ok, you woulda been all dramatic and started freaking out and crying." and I was appalled that he would think I would react so emotionally. Nobody prepared me for what I was going to see today so as soon as I walked into the ICU, I was all, "DAD WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO YOUR FACE?!" He looked like king of the chipmunks. He looked like he was hoarding tennis balls in his cheeks. So we found out that it is because he has crepitus, which is when air releases into the body and it doesn't have any place to go so it just makes your face and body look like hot air balloons or like Violet from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory only my dad is not blue or insufferably annoying. If you press on my dad's skin, it feels like he is filled with rice crispies. It is awesome.

I am totally putting this on my Dad's MySpace page:

P.S. I also got to see an angry black man's very large testicles swinging gaily beneath his hospital gown (which he had pulled up) in the waiting room at the emergency room yesterday. Come to think about it, he kind of reminded me of Mr. March. He was angry because he refused to put on his unnerwears until he saw a doctor. He saw a doctor quickly thereafter. Please learn from this that if you are ever sick of waiting for something, you can just take your panties off and be sure to receive prompt service.

P.P.S. My friend, Dave sent me this blog. It is one of the funniest things I have ever seen, including angry black man testicles.

Hi Blog

2008-12-29T11:30:00.000-08:00

I hope everyone had a good holiday. I sure did. I got a lot of great gifts. I got a TomTom for my truck so that I don’t get lost on the way to work anymore. Also, I got some earrings that look like sperms and a trip to California and a Ped Egg (effing awesome – my grated footskin looks like parmesan cheese!! I should have taken a picture – coming soon!!!), but my favorite present is one I got by default because nobody else wanted it. It was cast to the side and I snatched it up before it got tossed out with the torn wrapping paper and the 35 tasteless diabetic fudge balls I made for Ryan’s Nana (I made 36).

Anyhow, check out my new calendar and tell me you are not insanely jealous. I hung it right up above my computer.

This is Mr. February. Actually, since this calendar came from a Mexican restaurant in the valley, his name is Senor Febrero, but with balls like that, I just call him “Hey Handsome”.

This is Mr. March. He looks angry. Maybe because he already had to have one knee replaced and the other one keeps slipping out of socket every time he walks and his balls just start crazily running into things. Like his knees.

This is Mr. May. He looks like a bull we used to have on our farm when I was a little girl. He was cleverly named Boy and he kept 50 of our cows satisfied and also the neighbor’s cows too.

Also, I found a picture of a fat mouse that I think you would enjoy.

Attn: Ryan; This post contains "Filter" information. You should stop reading now.

2008-12-12T14:06:00.000-08:00

I am learning about filters, guys! There are all kinds of filters. Coffee filters, oil filters, blowing pot through a downy sheet so your mom doesn't smell it filters (note: does not work with cigarettes).

According to Jamie's husband, she has an alcohol-soluble filter. Haha. Dave is funny.

I am seriously lacking in the filter department. For some reason, my subconscious feels like everyone around me should know everything about me. This really isn't a Gucci bag, I bought it in New York in some back room from some creepy Asian dude for 25 bucks. Sometimes my undertitty smells like an Astros game. I sharted. I hate the fucking alarm in that goddamn truck you gave me. Don't you hate it when you are sitting in a chair and you fart and it doesn't have anywhere to go and then it gets trapped in your p-ssy??? (Ok, that last one was Steph, but that is why I love her). Corn comes out like it goes in...on the cobb. Your balls smell like cornflakes.

I also tell Ryan lots of stuff he would rather not hear like, "So today at work, I let a guy vigorously rub his junk on my backside so that he would give me the form for business cards and even though I thought it was going to be gross, it was kind of cool." What? I needed business cards and he wasn't that ugly. Would you rather me let an ugly guy do it? Would you rather me just let him do it without giving me the form? For nothing? So you're calling me a whore. I hate you.

That didn't really happen. I would at least need something like a jump drive or a can of air to clean my keyboard with. I can get a business card form on the Intranet.

Ryan wants me to stop telling him about certain things that happen at work. So now I'm all, well when do you want me to tell you something? Some things are downright comical and, heaven forbid, what if they are serious enough that I need him to punch someone in the balls? I am having issues with that.

The guy that I work with doesn't have a filter. At all. These are some of the things he has said to me in the past 2 days:
1. So are your tits real or are they fake?
2. Have you ever had anal sex?
3. How many times do you masturbate in an average week?
4. That girl over there? We almost had sex in a bathroom stall. Her husband hates me.
5. I like titties.

Awesome.

2008-12-05T08:18:00.000-08:00

Someone emailed me this news story today and I laughed so hard I blew a snot rocket that half went on my computer and half went on my co-worker's backpack so I had to share it with you guys.

when old men try to flirt......or get free haircuts. i dunno.

2008-12-03T16:49:00.000-08:00

I have been crappy at blogging and reading blogs lately. I have been so busy with this new job even though I really can't tell you what all it entails aside from ROCKING MY EFFING WORLD. I think just getting away from ExxonMiserable made me feel less like a tired asshole (literally and figuratively). I went to a smaller company and guess what??? I heard the eff word like 25 times today! And also had a conversation regarding the gravitational effect short running shorts has on men's balls! It's like heaven here and shit.

I am in Lafayette, Louisiana right now. It's my first trip. I have a class tomorrow. This is the first time I have driven over 2 hours by myself and let me tell you how much it rocked. I can hardly talk because I sang/rapped and talked to myself about stuff, like, the entire way. One thing I don't like is, well, it is the South and I have found myself into even more redneck territory than Houston if you can believe it.

Anyway, some of the people I have run into are complete gentlemen even though they speak in a language made up of vowels and D's and G's ONLY. It's kind of endearing most of the time when I can follow them. So I was wearing this jacket tonight

and an older dude in the hotel lobby said, "id dat a werk codume, gir?" which translates into "Is that a work costume, girl?" and I said, "No, this is my incredibly fashionable cool-weather coat." and then he said, "huh. thod you wudda here-cudder" ("huh. thought you was a hair cutter.") and then I looked in the wall mirror and was like, holy spit! this jacket do make me look like a here-cudder! Dude, I walked around New York looking like a very confused yet confident hairdresser or maybe even a hair-client gone AWOL! What if Jake Gyllenhaal was walking his dog and saw me like that???? Close fucking call right there. It is the only coat I have and it is going to be 38 degrees in the moanin and I am going to go to a work meeting and now I have to wear it and I am all self conscious.

I am slowly but surely catching up on reading blogs. I miss it. I only have 2,469 new posts to catch up on, according to my bloglines. I need to shape the eff up and get my priorities straight here!

Delicious

2008-12-01T13:09:00.000-08:00

1. So I got a new job. I took two weeks off inbetween the old one and the new one so I could play on the internet and talk on the phone and sleep which is pretty much all I did at my old job anyway. So I spent one week cleaning and cooking (I made a muhfkn roast! What.) and the next week I spent with my lady friends up in San Marcos pretending I was in college. Only this time I didn't spend the time pouring sweet-n-low packets in the mouths of hungry men. Was fun. I want to live there.

Anyhow, my new job gave me this:

because apparently they haven't heard that i got Worst Driver in high school because I drove my truck into a ditch and nobody could get it out. They probably also haven't heard about my lack of depth perception and the fact that I have had 8 cars in the past 12 years but whatever. I will rule the road in that. And it also comes with a gas card and an expense account. Holla! I am going to be tearing up South Texas. I may also get a sticker that says "Cowgirl Up" and one that says "Silly Boys, Trucks are for Girls" and then hang those fake plastic testicles (which I will buy in pink) from the bottom part of the truck. So cool.

2. I am a dirty girl. I am a filthy, dirty girl. I found that out at Ryan's parents' house over Thanksgiving. Have you ever had your ears candled?? Srsly. Best thing ever. What happens is that you stick this cone candle thing in your ear and then you light it on fire and it sucks all the earwax out of your head. Magical. Here is Ryan's mom candling one of his ears.

This is what came out of my ears! How awesome is that?? I am done with Q-Tips. Done. I had way more wax in my ears than Ryan. (OOOOO. INYOFACE QUEEF). I am proud. I can also hear better. Plus, I am sexier. I can feel it.

Everyone is getting earwax candles for Christmas.

3. Ryan's family celebrates Thanksgiving on Thursday and mine celebrates on Sunday so we stayed the weekend with Ryan's folks. I was charged with bringing a cake to celebrate Nov/Dec birthdays for my family on Sunday and since his mom is some sort of cake making genius, we made this cake together:

It is all edible guys!

The bow! The tag! Everything! Although. I wouldn't suggest eating the tag because I used a lot of spit on it because I was too lazy to walk over to the sink and get water. I figured it would just make the cake sweeter.

God, I am lame.

Since I am so proud, here is another picture.

4. While researching cake ideas, his mom showed me this cake:

The cock and balls is made of rice crispies and then covered in fondant(thanks John!). Ryan's mom is awesome.

Ryan's Dad: Nobody's balls are that symmetrical!

My great grandma: Aw, that's a pretty baby!

on art and flying tiddies

2008-11-06T10:35:00.001-08:00

1. When I was in college, I went to visit one of my guy friends at another college. Both he and his roommate were art majors and one of their friends sang a very romantic song about how he loved his girlfriend's thighs using adjectives like "cottage cheese" and "hail damage". Lucky girl. Anyhow, the roommate had a very serious art project going on at the time. Women would come to the apartment, he would apply ample amounts of glow in the dark paint to their bare breasts and then have them press against his bedroom wall. Then they signed their name underneath. You couldn't tell until he turned the black light on and you became surrounded in tiddies of all shapes and sizes. Note to men: Women are way more willing to get naked for you in the name of art.

2. My friend, Ryan, had a post today that reminded me of this girl I used to hate - more on that later. So I commented and he drew this picture:

Lovely moon, Ryan. Very orange-slice like.

I requested Ryan draw:

flying tiddies with a knife through the right breast and a moon shaped like an orange slice to represent the detriment that the objectification of women has on today's youth.

...which gets me back to the girl I hated. There was this girl named Emily. She was my first long-term boyfriend's ex-girlfriend. I never met her. But I hated her. I hated her because my boyfriend was obsessed with her. He had an Emily suitcase that he kept all of her old letters and junk in and she was this really pretty blonde artist girl who would make ridiculous art and then say it stood for something ridiculous. Like she would draw a huge donkey stepping on a roller skate and she would be all, "This represents the malnutrition and abuse that children in Sudan endure on a daily basis" and my boyfriend would be all "CLAPCLAPCLAPthat!!! is!!! amazing!!!!CLAPCLAPCLAP! Omg, she is so deep and inspiring". There was never a more retarder reason for feeling so inadequate while I sat there with my handheld Yachtzee not really giving a shit about the starving kids in Africa.

I am sure glad my current boyfriend finds my boobs and my knack for kicking his ass at Guitar Hero inspiring.

3. Since we are on the subject, I feel it necessary to look back at a poem written in the comments section of one of my posts from a long time ago regarding one of my best friends crazy boobage. Freaking hilarious.

So I Been Thankin

2008-10-30T11:13:00.000-07:00

1. I have been thinking lately about blogging more anonymously. Like I should probably take pictures down and go back to using Sexy Love Pits instead of my real name. I have pissed many a folk off writing this thing and plus I need to start thinking about my family and friends who don't want their name associated with farting and boluses of stool and errant sperm missles and stuff like that. To start, I changed my avatar from my real picture to this one:

When I first started blogging, I couldn't come up with a fake name. I suck at that kind of stuff and everything I thought of was already taken so in an act of utter frustration and defiance, I firmly hammered out sexylovepits on the screen and, lo and behold, it was accepted. I have very deep armpits. My ex-boyfriend could put his fist all the way inside of one of them. We were like a self-contained side show. A week ago marked the 4th anniversary of this blog and I am WAY more mature than I was 4 years ago and I am kind of embarrassed that my favorite part of my body was my freakish armpits. Ok. So they are still pretty rad.

2. So I got the job. I put in my two weeks. I am thrilled. I can't wait to pack up and leave. There is only one problem. I am freaking the heck out. Ok, here's the deal. One of my friends spends a lot of time with Mary Jane and I wound up crashing on his couch a few of weeks ago. So I got up at like 5am and decided to be a good house guest and make some coffee so I bumbled around in the kitchen and wound up making some crappy tasting coffee - which, by the way is not any different - i always make crappy tasting coffee. I had about two cups before my friend woke up and after tasting his coffee said, "You didn't clean out the coffee grinder, did you? This coffee tastes like weed." WHAT?! EXCUSE ME?! Not that it's a big deal if I wasn't in the works for getting a new job. So I went to take my drug test today. I was relieved because the pot probably would have been out of my urine within a couple of weeks since I never do the stuff. I spend all this time being miss goody two shoes and then I accidentally drink the stuff. It wasn't enough to make me feel anything from it, but I am still nervous. So I went and peed. No big deal. And then they cut. my. hair. They are testing my hair. Does any body know anything about that?! I'm flipping shit yo.

i put my hand up on your hip

2008-10-24T12:41:00.000-07:00

Brandi tagged me and the only reason I am doing this is because she is rad. The rules are that I am supposed to list 7 weird facts about myself. Seeing as how I have already named 26 weird things about myself here, here, here and here, I have decided to change the rules. I can’t possibly be 33weird know what I’m sayin so I am just going to write whatever the eff I want.

1. Ryan had to be on a jury (am I even allowed to talk about this?) and the lady on trial was contesting a ticket she got for speeding in a school zone. She decided to represent herself. You know this is going to be hilarious now, don’t you? The prosecuting attorney asked if she’d gotten her speedometer checked recently to which she responded, “I get my speed thermometer checked every three months! Don’t talk to me about speed thermometers! My speed thermometer is checked!” and continued to use the word “speed thermometer” for the remainder of the trial. Then she presented a bunch of pictures that contradicted her own story. When I asked Ryan what the verdict was, he cheerily replied, “We hung that biatch!” How come I never get picked for jury duty?? This blows.

2. I am quitting my job. I got another job so I probably won’t be spending as much time blogging and sleeping and stalking people on myspace and playing washingtonpost sudoku and crosswords puzzle games and wearing my butt pads to work and bending over in front of potential OMC’s. Speaking of myspace, one of my friends on there is actually my 15 year old cousin, Kelsey. I go to her page every now and then just to be appalled at the things 15 year olds do these days. Like I wasn’t trying to show my day-of-the-week panties to any boy who would look at me sideways when I was 15. Anyway, I went to her page the other day and saw this:

Spunkmuffin?! Spunkmuffin???? That kid is fucking clever.

3. I used to have this friend Shelli but then she made out with my boyfriend Romeo and he told me and she lied to me about it so I 3-way called her and got her to admit it to my other friend and I was all “AHA!” and so then she got mad at me and we weren't friends anymore and me and Romeo stayed together for like 3 months after than because I had absolutely no self respect until he pulled out his bent wiener and stuck it on my leg and I freaked out because I was like 14 (ed. note: I can appreciate a bent wiener now) and then she moved in with my friend Nicole and whenever Nicole and her would get into a fight about the dishes or taking out the trash or something, Shelli would reach into her petri dish vagina and pull out whatever algae she was growing at the time and try to spread it into Nicole's eyeballs, mouth or nose. I don't remember where i was going with this, but the moral of the story is Shelli never had to do the dishes or take out the trash. And I am really sick of doing laundry.

4. I never get sick of this picture. Ever. My friends probably do since I attach it to any email I ever send ever.

5. I wear tapered sweatpants as often as possible.

6. When I was around 19, I ate plastic all the time. I ate straws and keychains and Barbies. I am not kidding. I didn’t really like the way it tasted most of the time and I would get constipated. One time I didn’t GO for almost a week and a big black doctor wanted to “stick his finger in my anus and fish around for a nice bolus of stool” and I promptly told him to eff off and die and drove two hours so a nice, small lady doctor could stick her finger in there but when I got there she just gave me some Fleet Phophosoda to drink and I expelled all the plastic within 15 minutes. Anyway, my point is, I knew that eating plastic would cause me to have problems, but I did it anyway. I’ve stopped eating plastic and have replaced it with listening to Dr. Laura Schlessinger. She makes me so angry but I can’t stop listening to her. She is a horrible woman. Like some girl called the other day to ask her a question and she didn’t even get it out. She goes, “So, Dr. Laura, I am living with my boyfriend…” and Dr. Laura was like, “WHORE!” and then proceeded to call her a whore 5 more times before getting off the phone with her and never letting the girl even ask her question. She makes me so angry sometimes, I hate her.

7. Steph is dressing up her cat for Halloween. He wanted to be a fisherman this year.

Is it too late to change New Kids?

2008-10-21T11:03:00.001-07:00

I don't want Jonathan anymore.

Why do I always wind up with the gay ones, LANCE BASS. I am changing my new kid to Jordan. I don't even care if I have to wait in line or if he had to get his stomach pumped because it was filled with so much sperm. Too bad I have a boyfriend or I would be hitting that.

P.S. how could i not know jonathan was gay?? look at that jacket! he should be on youtube with the other gay men masturbating while smoking cigarettes and wearing leather (hot - you should look it up)

HAHA!! Steph has to do it with Donnie!! Grode.

2008-10-16T13:13:00.001-07:00

The New Kids on the Block concert is tonight. I would go, but I have gained like 100 pounds since Jonathan saw me last. I want him to remember me the way I was.

Thank God for Composite Sketches!

2008-10-13T10:12:00.000-07:00

Baby Dangled Upside Down By Feet Outside Vehicle During Carjacking

This is the guy who did it. He is still at large. I can't speak for everyone, but I am sure glad the Orlando Police Department took the extra steps to ensure their sketch artist had access to a Magnadoodle so he could make a realistic unibrow and several pimples/pock marks. Either that, or this dood escaped from my cookie monster toybox.

This guy is a serial burglar in Beaverton.

It is good to see such an excellent description of the suspect next to his sketch. I am surprised they didn't add a bullet that said "Cooties". I wonder if my sketch ever came out, they would put bullets next to it that read, "severe armfat" and "looks pregnant but really isn't. she just carries all her weight in her stomach. i know we totally thought she was pregnant too" and "dresses like 1980's prostitute" next to it.

Still, nothing is better than this sketch from Newberg, OR - that I stole from The Lein Girlz.

That's Awesome

2008-10-13T07:02:00.000-07:00

i am starting to annoy myself. i say, "that's awesome" like at least like 50 times a day at least and such and whatnot. i say "that's awesome" when things are good, when things are bad, when things are really not awesome at all. like this one time i was on a plane and i paid $1 and got some headphones. just so you know, high altitudes make me gassy. so i was watching movies and cracking ass and not even paying attention until my friend leaned over and said, "crystal, not everyone around you has on headphones.... or clothespins on their noses." and i said, "that is awesome" (obviously not awesome, obviously embarrassing) and i spent the rest of the flight in clench mode which is very exhausting. i need to replace it with something. maybe i could throw a duece or something. this, this is bigger than me though. i am going to need help.

one of the things that is bad about living in texas is the constant sound of country music coming from everywhere. don't get me wrong, i will cut a fucking rug to it. srsly. i am awesome. don't tell anyone. but the thing about it is that country music makes me cry and not just a little bit, but like face contorting boohoos that are very unattractive and the whole time my inner monologue is yelling at me like full metal jacket calling me a twinkletoed c*cksucker and saying the P word repeatedly and telling me to quit crying. it's uncomfortable, really. it's like when you are on a rollercoaster and you're like, okay, self, this time i am not going to scream at all on the big loop thing and then when the big loop thing comes, you can feel it building up inside of you and then all of the sudden, you're like AHHHHHH HOLY CHRISSSSSST!!! WE'RE GOING TO DIIIEEEE!!! that's how it is with country music. i hear a ballad, and i feel it rising up and then i turn into a sobbing mess. this morning, i heard a garth brooks song on the radio. i don't know why i left it there, but by the time i got to work, i looked like a mama racoon. boooooooo ihateyougarthbrooks booooooooo.

2008-10-08T13:14:00.000-07:00

one time when i was a teenager, i got an online boyfriend sort of thing. it was right when we got the internet and instead of doing homework i would frequent chat rooms (one time a guy started fingering my asshole in the chatroom and i was so offended that i never went back to the galactic grotto!!! the fucking nerve of that one) anyway, i would go to these things and i wound up talking to this 17 year old guy every day named harley and he was pretty charming and so it evolved to the point where we decided to move our relationship to the phone level and when he called me he was obviously a 45 year old man with cerebral palsy and he kept asking me what color my underwear was. not a good experience but i felt kind of bad for him so i let him jack off to my voice and changed my phone number. damn my niceties.

by the way...

2008-10-07T06:22:00.001-07:00

you can view pictures from new york by clicking on the flickr box in the sidebar

Up in the 212

2008-10-06T14:13:00.000-07:00

I spent the weekend in New York City. When my mom first invited me two weeks ago, I was all "I guess. I'm gonna hate it because of all the rude people and roaches and I'm going to come back smelling like urinade, but I guess I will go because it will be a good mother-daughter experience." Then, because I am such a positive person who can always look at the bright side of things, about 4 days before the trip, I started giving myself reasons to look forward to it. "I might see someone looking at me hungrily while jerking off on the subway! or! I could get violently groped while waiting for a cab! and maybe I could even get some pictures of real live hookers!" Let me just tell you. I loved New York. Srsly. I want to live there. I want to drive a carriage or sell my freestyle CDs to people on the street and then yell at them when they ignore me because they are obviously afraid of white people. The people there are not rude, the food is fabulous, the city is beautiful and there is so much to do! I didn't even get to see any masturbation or hookers and I still loved it. I met my mom's lovely friend and her family and I want them to adopt me! I really heart the crap out of Manhattan.

Mom and I went to Central Park to see if we could see some gay guys doing it in the bushes (AHEM) to no avail. We walked by 3 Asian caricature artists that draw people with big heads and tiny bodies. They displayed some of their work on a big board and I thought it was cute that everyone they drew looked Asian. We sat down on a bench about 10 yards behind them and eventually the one on the end came up to us and started delivering all of these lovely very sincere compliments that I am sure he has never told anyone in his life trying to get us to spend $20 on a picture. My mom was encouraging me to do it, but I declined. Everytime I have gotten one of those stupid things, it accentuates the size of my face and my freckles look like chicken pox and my eyes look like fleshy butts on either side of my nose and then I go home and cry because God forgot to make me pretty and I have to get by in life on my personality and God forgot to give me one of those. It's horrible, really. But then we were watching this poor guy and nobody was sitting at his station and then we started feeling bad and my mom told me how she gave Diet Cokes to this one homeless dude all the time and I started feeling bad and then Mom said she'd pay for it and I started wondering how I would look if I were Asian. I'd probably be pretty damn cute. So I agreed and my mom paid for it and we walked over and I sat down and William started drawing and it felt like I was sitting there forever and William kept making me look at him in the eyes and he looked like the guy off of Lost. Mom was behind him doing cartwheels and making faces and trying to get me in trouble with William but I stayed strong for him because I could tell he was a good person. And this is what he came out with. He even gave me some thick ass cleavage that wasn't there to begin with. Bonus!

2008-09-29T11:20:00.001-07:00

1. This is my friend, Gena’s, cat:

Her name is Pauline (like Paw-lean, get it?) because Gena is awesome and clever. Gena likes to chase Pauline around the house because the cat’s gimpy stump hits the wood floor and makes a lovely hollow beat. It’s not mean though. The cat likes it. The next animal I get is going to be special needs; preferably an amputee seeing as how we already own a semi-retarded sock-and-dryer-sheet-eating-underwater-ball-sniffing dog. He is rad. I’m a good mama!

2. I was looking for a restaurant and an ad popped up. It wasn’t one of those ones where it has the girl in the white pants dancing (I will watch that for several minutes nonstop before I feel like I am being inappropriate and click away from it). This one sold clothing. I am assuming they are the outfits in a bag that you can find at the Megaplexxx. Apparently, this is plus size:

I really liked this very tasteful outfit and was considering purchasing it to wear to Ryan’s Granny’s 90th birthday, but there was no section for behemothfattycakes on the website.

3. Last night, I hung out with my ex’s parents. I haven’t seen them in two and a half years. The mom just got finished with chemo in June and her hair is just starting to grow back and she looks beautiful!! I want to shave my head now, but I will probably just look like a Pachycephalosaurus. Anyway, losing them was the hardest part about breaking up with that guy. As soon as I walked in the house I remembered why. The dad had on a shirt with this:

maybe it's the menses?

2008-09-24T12:44:00.000-07:00

i think i have a tumor in my brain. or maybe i am pregnant. maybe my hormones are in overdrive. maybe the lack of electricity is interferring with all that is sound and good in my life.

lately, i have been having these completely irrational thoughts that seem completely rational at the time.

example 1. "i am going to use my lunch break to go adopt or purchase a spider monkey." and i totally believe myself too. i believe in all my heart that i am going to come home with a brand new exotic animal without consulting the dood i am shacking up with. i do my research about their diet and calculate diaper usage and such and whatnot. i work so far out that there's no way i'd be able to make it to the shelter and back and the possibility of me even finding a spider monkey in the state of Texas is next to nothing. yet. i know that by 5pm, i will have one in my hands. like i am pippi longstocking or sth.

example 2. "i am going to create a huge bug collection and use it in order to acquire newshoe money." what? i don't even... ok, there was a lizard in my office the other day. hanging out on my purse and i screamed so loudly that my work husband shouted "bless you!" because he was trying to pretend it was a sneeze because he didn't want to have to come over and help with whatever "crisis" i might be having at the time. 5 minutes later, both my boss and my work husband were in a tangled mess on the floor trying to catch the lizard with a coffee cup so i could take it outside. yet, i want to start a bug collection?? a high yield bug collection?? and i can't even grab a lizard?

example 3. "i am going to give birth to a black child!" all i am going to say about this one is that if i told my dood i was pregnant and he went to lamas classes with me and kissed my belly every night for 9 months and went back to the store for me three times because i kept changing my mind about what ice cream flavor i wanted and when we got to the delivery room and black child popped out of my poohnanny, he would be pissed. racism, ladies and gentlemen.

i used to get ideas like this all the time in college when i smoked pot and decided i was going to market mayonaise and frosted flake sandwiches. but i am not doing any drugs. and i get ADD and forget my idea until i come across my extensive research a week later and then realize the flaws in my thinking.

it reminds me of that episode of grey's anatomy when the guy came in and he was petting a bear cub and the momma bear came out and killed his relative and the guy knew better because he's been camping all his life and he also was a millionaire and married a waitress who came from a trailer park after knowing her for only three weeks and meredith deduced that he had a tumor that created irrational thoughts in his brain and then he died.

i am hoping it's my menses.

2008-09-22T13:49:00.001-07:00

September 13, 8am

Check out our lushness in the backyard. Bogey's peetree stayed up and its leaves don't even look tussled, but the neighbor's tree came crashing down on top of our fence behind it. Ike was nice enough to help remove the porch roofing which Ryan was wanting to replace anyway. We spent much of last week cutting down trees and dragging them to huge piles. It is a Heavy Pickup Day Trashman's wet dream out there or I guess the people who aspire to and eventually become heavytrashdaypickupgarbagemen. Nearly every pile in our neighborhood is taller than me. I hate to admit this because it displays my pathetic gauge of funness, but it really wasn't so bad. It was actually a pretty good time. I got new gloves. Yay for gloves! We barbecued and socialized with our neighbors that are either a little scary or a little too friendly. I met a lot of people who I am desperately tempted to make fun of, but I'd feel way too guilty because their weird matched their nice. Maybe in time...

This is our tenth day without power. We're not supposed to get it back until at least Thursday. I know we are fortunate relative to what happened further south, but damn! This is depressing! I spent an hour and a half washing dishes on Saturday. An hour and a half! I am talking about the chore kind of dishes and not the sexy kind of dishes. I can't even imagine what hand washing clothes is going to be like. Maybe I will take the advice of my imaginary childhood friend and start turning my underthings inside out to get an extra wear out of them. Hey! It wasn't my idea! It was Friendy's! I started The Book Thief yesterday and finished it today. Yes, I am bragging. That book is like 550 pages and you all know how well I read even when I am armed with a fat pencil and my armskin. It's one of the best books I've ever read and I keep looking at it and wanting to hug it.

2 years ago today I met my boyfriend and he won my heart with the line, "You don't want to know how tall I am; you want to know how big it is." I was appalled. I am not that kind of girl! What does he think I am?? Some kind of slut?? So I took my panties and my assortment of rubbers and I rolled out of the bed of his pickup and ran down the road in the rain looking for my friend who was blowing his friend in the back of another pick up.

I am just kidding about all that. Except for he really did use that line on me before he changed tactics and tried to lure me to his house with ketchup and mustard and various other condiments. However, I resisted. The next day when he called, I yelled at him for thinking I was a slut. So he asked for a date and I reluctantly accepted and when he dropped me off from a very nice dinner, he barely even kissed me and I was all WTF??? He doesn't want to hit this??? and so began Us. We're not going to celebrate right now, but I felt like I should bust his balls in a safe forum that my grandmother, my mom, all my friends and co-workers read.

My hair looks awesome

2008-09-19T08:36:00.000-07:00

So we had this storm last weekend. We were going to get out of town, but decided to stay at the last minute. We're about 20 miles from Galveston Bay where it hit land. I slept through the whole thing because that is just the way I roll. We didn't have too much damage (a tree came through our fence and the roof was a little messed up), but we had a lot of cleaning up to do. We are very, very fortunate!! Today is the 6th day we are going without electricity. I came to work today and feel a little less like a pioneer, but it's kinda sad that I would much rather be hauling tree limbs and raking than working. I miss my Chi. Booooo.

Know what sucks about raking and bagging an entire yard covered in leaves and sticks? There are hidden piles of doodoofeces waiting to surprise you and then get on your gloves which you use to wipe sweat off your face. Grode.

Also, we are getting to know our neighbors very well. So well, in fact, that one of them wanted to show me his "teepee" last night. He thinks his wife is cheating on him and he wanted me to look at it and tell him if anything is wrong with it. Um...Inapprope! So I told him that it probably wasn't his body as much as it was his personality. I probably should have taken him up on it. I haven't seen a stranger peen since that old guy asked Jeanie and me for directions and had his shiny bumpy weiner laying on the bottom of the steering wheel and I didn't notice til after I gave him directions and we called 911 and gave interviews, thus becoming members of the San Marcos Junior Police. Rad.

May 20, 1992

2008-09-10T12:15:00.000-07:00

I found a paper that I’d written when I was thirteen about where I’d be in ten years. It was written on an old Kaypro. I got a 98.

In ten years from now, I will be twenty-three. I can’t exactly predict my future well but these are my dreams and I will work hard to get them.

I hope to be in my sophomore year at Texas A&M majoring in Engineering – minoring in Astronomy. I’d like to be an engineer – chemical or genetic – because that’s where the money is, and I want the challenges. I would also like to be an astronomer because I’m always reaching for the stars and that’s one way to become more familiar with them.

Chemical engineering is hard, I suppose, but still a sophomore at 23? I guess I have always been slightly behind the curve, like this one time in 1st grade they put me in gifted and talented math with Mrs. Kalina and I could barely count to twenty. She went around the room and called on each one of us and we had to count aloud and I knew I was in trouble because I could barely get past 8 so I took my fat pencil and tried to write/carve the numbers into my arm so I could cheat by the time she got to me. When she saw me looking down confusedly at my scratched up arm trying to decipher if that was a “1” or an “L”, she got up and marched me to Mrs. Bucek’s room and on the way over, I said, “Is this because I don’t read well?”

Reach for the stars??? No wonder I didn’t have any friends in the 7th grade.

I doubt I’ll have a husband when I am twenty-three because that’s just too young. I’m getting married when I’m 26 to a guy with brown hair and sparkling green eyes. He’d be 6’1 which would be nicely average for my height of 5’4. And he is going to have to work, not only around the house but in a good job because I am definitely not going to support a guy who sits on his lazy butt in a chair all day watching football and guzzling beer.

Right on! Even back then I knew men were trouble! Unfortunately, I am the one who sits around in chairs all day guzzling beer. Also, I am 5’7. I remember being in 7th grade and my friend had really big feet and I wanted big feet sooooàooo badly. I wanted to be 5’4 and have a size 11 shoe. What I didn’t know was that my unattractiveness would be directionally proportional to how hard I would be to knock over.

Our home will be a Kenmore home. You know like on that one commercial when everything was nice and white.

I forgot that I don’t like to clean. I have since amended this dream to a dirt-and-junk-mail-colored home.

I love animals so I hope to have lots of them. Two dogs; full bred. They’d be a Pekinese and a German Shepherd. There’s going to be a wall aquarium with exotic fish swimming around happily along with a turtle. I also hope to have two rabbits – Skeeter and Thumper – and they’ll probably be mini-lop ear. I think they are so adorable! I also hope to have a female ferret.

Ferrets stink and I am way to cheap and lazy to own a wall aquarium. Once I bought my ex-boyfriend a turtle and an onion for Valentine’s Day and he named him Rico and he stunk up the house so my ex-boyfriend let him go in the yard and Rico got run over by a car. He kept the onion for as long as I can remember though. Good times.

Looks. I am going to have the same grey and navy blue eyes. I would like to be rich (who doesn’t?) so I can buy a wardrobe to suit all of my moods. Beachy. Elegant. Plain and wholesome. My freckles will probably disappear and return only while I’m in the sun.

Notice how I cleverly used the word “suit” and even bolded it when discussing clothing. HAHAHA I am hilarious.

I will most likely helping the environment and endangered animals. SAVE THE WHALES!!! I might be working with Greenpiece. There is one thing I’m sure of, though and it’s the three R’s: Reduce, reuse and recycle. I’ll also paint: relaxing things like mountains with snow sprinkling the top or rain forests with little endangered animals playing in the streams that would run through the trees. Things like that.

It’s funny because I don’t remember being this much of an activist when I was kid, but wound up majoring in Environmental Science and getting a job doing environmental & regulatory compliance for Africa. I like how I was so passionate about Greenpeace that I misspelled it. And apparently, I watched a little bit too much of Bob Ross growing up.

I’ll have three cars. Each, like my wardrobe, will run for each of my moods. I’ll have a jeep for the beach. An ISUZU. A regular Ford for my wholesome mood. That would be for the store and it would have to be white. I’d also have a black convertible coupe for the elegant one. That would be for the opera or a night on the town with my mom. My other two cars will be really big so that we can carpool. Very conservative. STOP POLLUTION!!!

An Isuzu?? My dream was to have an Isuzu? I’m still pissed that I haven’t gotten one yet. And wholesome! I guess that was written the year before I started wearing miniskirts and doing somersaults in front of any boy that would look in my general direction. Also, it is very conservative to own 5 cars. Very conservative.

Of course this is all a fantasy life but this is my dream. Even though I probably won’t get it, I’ll try my best and reach for the stars and once I catch them I’ll reach for the sun.

Riiiiigggghhhhht. She should have given me a double 100 for that brilliant conclusion.

2008-09-09T09:58:00.000-07:00

The guy on the second row in the stripes - his name Dickie and he is a cop now. The guy in the stripes on the top row told me that his mom ran outta hair gel so she put crisco in his hair. I was sitting on the floor and the girl in the plaid pants on the front row was in a chair and she peed on my hand. The cute little kid on the far left in the plaid shirt - we called him Booger Boy because we were assholes. He's adorable! How could we do that?! Kids are so mean. The white girl with the brown hair - she cried one day for three hours and when a teacher asked her what was wrong, the kid with the Crisco head said, "she lef her pitchas on da bus" and the little girl thought that sounded so lame but she was really crying because her dad helped her do the pictures (which was rare) and she left it on the bus and she cried for so long that they stuck her in the cafeteria and let her drink chocolate milk with the cafeteria lady. This same sensitive girl got sent to the office on a regular basis for calling this one kid roscoe p. coletrain and pushing him out of his chair.

1982

2008-09-09T09:43:00.000-07:00

This is a photo taken of my Grandpa Eddie and me on the farm. I am going to go ahead and point out the most obvious thing in the picture - my ginormous mushroom mellon and absent neck. I think when my Grandma Dorothy took this picture, my grandpa Eddie was all "This kid's head is huge! Grab the camera, Dot! We have to document this! Wait - we need to find something to put next to her head to display the hugeness of her head. No, not the grapefruit! We need something bigger! Put down the basketball, Dot, still too small! I know! A cow! We will show her head in relation to the size of the cow! That's the ticket!"

2008-09-08T12:21:00.001-07:00

I went out to eat with my brother and dad on Saturday at some steakhouse in a small town by the beach that we rode to on their motorcycles. Our waitress was a talker, obviously from East Texas. Amid tragic tales of her losing a fake fingernail in her pocket and chiding us for drinking so much tea, she said this:

One day this young man asked God, "Why did you make girls smell so good?"
And God said, "So you will love them"
And the young man said, "Why did you make 'em so curvy and pretty?"
And God said, "So you will love them"
And the young man said, "Then why did you make them so stupid?"
And God said, "So they will love you."

I think I have heard that before, but I thought it was really funny. Plus, I finally got an answer as to why I such a dumbo!

When we got back home, my brother and I went through some files that our Mom had kept from the time we were little. We found all kinds of awesome and embarrassing things.

This is from when I was on the dance team at school and we had to wear Keds (mine came from Payless) and they made me get ingrown toenails. I cut one out myself and then had to have a doctor do three others. My feet be fugly. Also, notice the red and silver pompoms which contrast nicely with the brown pompom hanging over my left shoulder. We had to wear Hooters tights which made it easier for the girls who stuck to the gym floor when we did splits to get jobs in college. I never stuck to the floor, but that probably had something to do with me always skipping out of practice and smoking cigarettes and drinking Boonesfarm in the parking lot and then when pep rallies came around, I was always the one 2 steps behind everyone else when we danced to exciting numbers like "The Flintstones" (where we wore trashbags and neckties) and "Chatahoochie"....undertones, anyone? Very exciting stuff, people. I bring it.

There are two types of people in this world: Those who like Neil Diamond, and those who don't.

2008-09-04T15:24:00.000-07:00

My boyfriend had his fantasy football draft party last week. I found this old post regarding last year's fantasy football draft party:

I am meeting up with my girlfriends tonight for sushi. Our guys are having their Fantasy Football Draft Party or as I like to call it, Shit That I Don't Care About. I would much rather talk about penis sizes and shoes over wine and fresh salmon. Before I do that, though, I am hooking up with my best friend and we are going to play Gin Rummy - or as Ryan likes to call it Naked Pillow Fighting Involving Copious Amounts of Vegetable Oil. And Kissing. With Tongue. Steph and I are big dorks and we play cards once a week religiously. Back when we were both single, there was a period of time where that is all we did. No showers, no changing of clothes. We would pause every once in awhile to catcall some dudes, but the smell alone kept most of them away. We almost cut our hair off and bought a Jeep Wrangler and a big dog and strapped our breasts down with Ace bandages and wore chain wallets. But just because we were together so much. Not because she ate me out on Thursdays. Good times. Good fucking times.

Funny, because I spent this year's draft party doing the exact same thing. Some people never change. I will probably play Gin Rummy this year on voting day too. All day. Yeah, I am not going to vote, but that is ok because my best friend is voting for Obama (I was going to vote for Obama but then I changed my mind because McCain's running mate is so pretty!) so our votes would cancel each other out anyway so we decided not to vote and save us the gas and we're just going to stay home and play Gin Rummy and drink Diet Cream Soda. I hate to brag, but we are really smart and stuff.

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

2008-08-26T14:51:00.000-07:00

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

2008-08-21T14:58:00.000-07:00

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

2008-08-20T13:59:00.000-07:00

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

2008-08-07T11:21:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-29T12:24:00.000-07:00

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...

2008-07-25T06:28:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-17T13:18:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-08T08:17:00.001-07:00

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

2008-06-26T11:01:00.000-07:00

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?!

2008-06-23T09:30:00.000-07:00

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.

You'd rather watch me drown than see your hands get wet

2008-06-18T07:56:00.000-07:00

I have so much going on that I feel like I am sinking in The Swamps of Sadness because I am overcome with hoplessness and I am getting all dirty and my mane is getting all matted and I got some Indian kid screaming at me that I am his best friend.

I get to go to therapy today though. This one time, and I may have even told you this already, but my therapist tried to make me be a boar with sharp pointy teeth capable of biting. And then she wanted me to pet myself. I know this can be placed into some type of logic equation. We will use my favorite binary relation: transitive property! yay!

If A = B, and B = C, then A=C

A = I like
B = Touching Myself
C = Therapy

I like therapy.

Ok. Nevermind. I just got a text from Dave saying that he got an early copy of my favorite band's album. Party. Maybe it will be a good day after all.

buurry me smilin wif g's in my pocket

2008-06-16T09:44:00.000-07:00

i am thinking about opening up my other blog again. sometimes i crave the raw, uncensored nakedness that semi-anonymity provides. i mean i can't very well go talking about washing my pickle box here because there are some folks out there that i know - that may even be related to me - that like to think of me like i like to think of Larry Appleton ; nice but annoying; respectable but but completely private-part-less. so i can't really talk about the complete benefits of mounting olympic grade still rings in the shower.

also i can't call my best friend a fucking uppity bitchface on here or she'll get pissed at me.

so i am left here, wanting to write, but not having anything to blog about except the baby possum we have that runs along the fence that we have adopted and named greg. he only comes out at night and doesn't stick around long and we are hoping it really is a baby possum. it would suck if greg wound up being a rat.

also, it is tu pac's birthday. in his honor, i will be replacing my ere sounds with urr sounds and my oo sounds with uh sounds and my th sounds with ff sounds. ex: that gentleman over thurr? he's somewhat of a dushbag and his breaf is also quite stinky. now you try. rock the pac.

what it's like (psh psh psh psh) havin a roni

2008-06-10T08:46:00.000-07:00

Why I Love My Family
Sunday I went to see Sex and the City with the ladies in my family. Upon leaving the theatre, I exclaimed, "Did y'all see that penis?!" I don't know how they could have missed it. Not only was it the size of a husky toddler arm, I called attention to it by sucking in my breath, letting out a very audible OHHH! MYYYY! GOD!, and frantically hitting the ladies on either side of me and pointing at the screen. My grandmother shrugged her shoulders and said, "I've seen so many dicks in my lifetime, it doesn't even phase me."

And this is why I want to grow up to be just like my gramma.

Why I Love My Boyfriend
He is in Canada right now freezing his perfectbubbleass off. I was reading the news and found this picture of a pack of cigarettes sold there.

We had the following email exchange:

Me: Do they really have ads like this on cigarette packs in canada?

He: They sure do. My favorite is the fetus covered in tar!!

great success

2008-05-28T10:08:00.000-07:00

We spent Memorial Day on a lake with Ryan’s family. Normally, I would be nervous spending an entire weekend with the boyfriend’s family except this year, I did damage control by creating a few simple rules which, if I followed, would prevent me from making a total ass of myself.

1. Don’t get drunk. These folks may not think a synchronized swim routine with splash sound effects and humming in the middle of the living room is as charming as, well, nobody. Nobody thinks that’s charming. Except for me. After 7 beers.

The problem with this rule is that the only thing on the boat to drink was beer. Well, they had Diet Dr. Pepper and juice and water and Gatorade, but they also had beer.

2. Do not take off swimsuit cover-ups. Keep t-shirt and shorts on throughout the entire weekend.

The problem with this rule is that once I have had a lot of beers, all of my modesty tends to leak out of my body and I throw off my clothing which is never a good thing (I earned the nickname “Loose Underwear” at one point in college). So I wound up on a wakeboard with nothing to hinder my thighs from performing the percussion section to the National Anthem, complete with cymbal crashes. Next year I am getting a one-piece with a skirt. And I am going to wear control top pantyhose underneath.

This is about 10 minutes into the boatride on Friday afternoon:

I cropped the picture so as not to damage you as I damaged several innocent Memorial Day vacationers. You're welcome.

3. Don’t say bad words.

I didn’t do so bad on this one. If you consider not “so bad” saying things like “she got a 6 inch clitoris, you know, like a girl dick” over dinner. Also, I taught Ryan’s 3 year old nephew a new word and that would be the ever-classy “Boobies!” I was pretty much giving an extensive speech about random things and the kid picks out the word Boobies! and it, of course, becomes his favorite word of the weekend. And his mom was all, “Where did he learn that?!” and I shrugged and said that public pre-schools were full of hoodlums these days and maybe she should pony up a little and look into expensive private schools.

4. Be nice to children and animals.

This was the only rule I really followed! I did try to give a dog a potato, but he wouldn’t come to me or take my potato and he just ran whenever I threw the potato at him. That was his fault. I also taught the kid to carry my alcoholic beverages for me down the hill. They make my hands too cold.

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Ryan wakeboards in a different way than I do. I like to get pulled up and then immediately do a faceplant and grab the rope so hard that I am unable to do so much as open a car door for the next three days. Good times.

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Quit reading now if you don't want to learn about my unruly peehole.

I am very prone to urinary tract infections, which if you haven't had one feels like a careless nurse is slowly inserting a hot needle into your squirter. And I am not even exaggerating. After spending the weekend at the lake where who knows what kind of bacteria decided to squat and build a campfire in my peehole, I noticed the familiar burning. Usually, I have to go to the doctor and get on antibiotics, but Steph sent an email out the other day and said to take some Alka-Seltzer and it would go away. And I was like, oh yeah right, and douching with Coke will keep me from getting the herps. But you know what?! It worked!! So far anyway. I felt like I needed to share with all you ladies out there who are all in the same boat as me. Drank some Alka-Seltzer! It tastes horrible, but I now can pee without sounding like that girl on True Life: I Have Tourettes. "You're being careless, Gramma!"

IS NOTHING SACRED?!

2008-05-06T13:57:00.001-07:00

Gena texted me today and told me that my favorite band was on The Hills last night and I was all WHAT?! and so I was like "well, it was just their music right? like the intro to one of their songs, right?" and Gena was like, "no. audrina was all 'ur voice is really great! u r so good!' and then Lo and LC were all 'yeah! u guys sound great!" and frankly, i am a little pissed. I don't know why as I shamelessly shove their CDs into the faces of every friend I have in hopes that they will too enjoy screaming and pumping their fist in their cars on the way home because it is so fucking rad. but LC? Lo? Audrina? why are you selling out, Matt and Dan and whoever the drummer is?? derrick? ok. i know i am not one to talk. i mean, your gas prices?? yeah, all my fault. i am a corporate hor. but seriously, if i go to their show on July 21st and see Heidi Montag's fashion line, I am totally going to quit fantasizing about having several children with Matt and Dan who will all be born with tattoo sleeves and lisps. That'll show them.

The saddest thing is that I totally know who heidi and audrina and lo and LC are. I am screwed. I may as well get the balls cut off my face, buy some boobs and bone brody jenner.

Alkaline Trio

Miyagi have hope for you

2008-05-05T10:32:00.000-07:00

My friend called me the other day. In the past year, he has excelled in Jujitsu, which, I’m sure is exactly like karate. Or ultimate fighting. So he told me to check out his videos on youtube. To my complete dismay, both he and his opponent were fully clothed and did a bunch of moves that consisted of various hugging formations: Hug Standing Up. Walk in Circle While Hugging. Lay on Ground and Hug. Hug with Feet. Hug From Back. At one point, somebody’s gi fell open and I got to take a look-see at some chest hair (!!!). Very exciting business. However, I was left confused and uncomfortable. Where was the blood? Where were the bikini briefs? So I quickly turned it off and did a search for old faithful – gay men masturbating while smoking cigarettes and wearing leather.

In college, I dated a guy who taught Ninjutsu and insisted on wearing his Tabi boots (had to look it up) OUT IN PUBLIC to sneak up on people because that is the only thing Ninjutsu is good for. That, and swinging a staff around like a high school color guard member because you know, every time you get into a fight at the bar, there is a freaking bo staff available. And by dated, I mean I walked into his room to find him half naked (thank God it was his top half) on the bed with candles lit so they would cast soft light on his collection of sand dragons and an Enigma tape blaring and he looked at me with one eyebrow raised and patted the bed and asked me if I liked his bare chest. Unfortunately, and I am disappointed in myself for this, but I kissed him out of pity. I am not only upset with myself for subjecting myself to that, but I owe an apology to all the other girls he used these moves on because now he thinks it actually works. In my defense, our torrid affair that involved no sex at all (but extreme amounts of embarrassment on my part) lasted about 2 days. During those two days, he asked me to take some pictures of him for his business card. I obliged (for free) and followed him to a hilltop where he flung his staff about and did little hops and somersaults. My camera, undoubtedly frightened to death, turned out none of the pictures. I told him this and he followed me around for six week sneaking up on me asking for the pictures like the “WHERE’S MY 2 DOLLARS?” kid in Better Off Dead.

ok....so....

2008-04-29T14:24:00.000-07:00

Being the weird kid I was, I took joy in making a spectacle of myself and would sometimes pretend I was an old lady or an elephant and regale children with memorized prose and terrible accents. Surprisingly, I won several awards from that even though in retrospect some of the stories I told were completely tasteless. I also did “the dog” in the stands while on the dance team and got banned from three whole football games. My parents were sure proud.

I have to give a presentation in a couple of weeks to a group of men who made my male boss burst into tears at a previous meeting. Nowadays I am terrified of speaking even in small meetings, so I got this to put in my office as a source of inspiration from ponderingpool.com:

I love it and am spending lots of time pointing it out to people who really don’t give a shit or get it. One of the higher ups came in my office today and examined the picture for a few minutes and then asked me, “Why don’t you just buy different shoes?” At first, I thought he was being metaphorical so I went along with it by saying “These are my only pair” and then he looked bewildered and was all “You were wearing red ones yesterday” and then I just sat there staring at him and then staring at the floor and then staring at him. Have you ever heard someone say something so off that you question your own intelligence? Surely I was missing something. Surely, I should be getting something here. Surely there is a punchline in there somewhere. I know I am not the snappiest twig on the tree, but he is at least 4 steps higher than me on the food chain! My work husband told me the other day that people like me never become managers. Thank God.

Note to Boyfriends...

2008-04-24T10:53:00.000-07:00

Girls like to perform little tests. It's what we do. It's all very exciting and you have no idea when they are going to occur either. It's like when you stay up late not reading your assigned reading and then get to class and you didn't even have time to pop your collar or spike your hair and the girl you like decides to sit next to you and you're freaking out because you forgot your Bod cologne and then all of the sudden the teacher smiles really big as says "Pop Quiz!" and she looks at you like she totally planned on fucking up your day...like that...only when girlfriends do it, they don't tell you there is going to be a pop quiz; they just start asking questions and grade your response with a big fucking red sharpie that is forever engrained in their brains for quick ammo if ever needed in an argument.

So when a girl asks you a question, like, I don't know, I am being totally random here, totally pulling something out of thin air, like:

Does it bother you that I have a big beer gut?

You had better put your thinking cap on and say something OTHER than:

Not at all. I love your big beer gut.

don't go mistaking paradise of a pair o' long legs

2008-04-22T10:37:00.000-07:00

1. Karma is a bitch. Not only did the girl at work tell me that I carry my weight in my belly, Ham also commented on my beer gut last night. I am expecting Nikki to round the corner in her size 2 levi's and have a frank conversation with me about my obvious addiction to food and her dire concern for my health. I have been tapping my eye all day like Paul McKenna and even with all of that preventativeness and such and whatnot, I still want to rub a cheeseburger all over my FAAACE. Note to dudes: Telling a girl she has a sexy beer gut is NOT a compliment….HAM.

2. I watched Some Kind of Wonderful on Sunday. I used to love 80’s movies. I can tell I am a grown up now and that reality has calloused up my heart. First of all, Amanda Jones appears to be smuggling a brisket between her thighs. And she quite possibly could be considering her Doug shorts. Eric Stoltz creeps me out in general. However, in this movie, he is especially creepy because all he does all day is stare at Amanda Jones and draw pictures of Amanda Jones and talk about Amanda Jones and be ~~a big pussy~~ the strong silent type when Hardy Jenns honks the horn in his face. I guess back in the day, I thought it was sweet that he was so in love with her. Now, I see it as a mental health issue. It’s gross.

Mary Stuart Masterson irritates me, but she does lick off a couple of good lines that I am saving for appropriate times “better to swallow pride than blood, man” and “get your skag and let’s go” and “oh, you want to start a book club with her?”. I appreciate her wit but not her headbands. She will always be Joon to me forever in my heart.

Anyway. I know I am getting all geriatric now because if my son spent his entire college savings on some disngenuous cum dumpster who barely gave him the time of day and then told me “I’m 18! When does my life become mine?”, I would promptly beat his ass. I mean, he doesn’t have a clue! Do you know how many cans of tuna make up a pair of diamond earrings??? No concept of money, the youth these days. No concept at all. The acting in the movie was horrible and melodramatic and totally made me cry at the end. I think I have my period or something.