Tuesday, June 26, 2012

What a cute baby you have...

This is just a short story, which stems of from my previous posting about midgets. Cutting to the chase... One time, I was driving to the hospital for clinicals or something. My route took me through down-town. Even a small town brings out their A game down-town. As I'm driving, something catches my eye out to my left. At first glance, it appears to be a mother, pushing her child in a stroller. This caught my attention for two reasons - 1. It's fucking down-town Lima, Ohio. Not exactly the place for a leisurely stroll. 2. I'm a woman, and love the chance to oogle other peoples children. Or, judge them and make myself feel better by comparison. Usually the later.

Upon closer inspection, I realized that my first assessment was in fact, very wrong. I was now openly gawking at was in fact NOT a mother pushing her child, but actually a middle aged woman, pushing what I can only assume to be her middle-aged midget boyfriend. In an umbrella stroller. In down-town fucking Lima.

I know, I know, I'm an asshole. While I should have felt some sympathy for the man who is unable to ambulate by his own means (his knees are probably all fucked up) I could only instead whip out my phone and try to take a pic before the light turned green. I was unable to get a pic, and will rue the day for all eternity.

HOW can I sleep at night? Vodka. Well, that and the fact that the chick looked like she had been rode hard and put back wet. I didn't get close enough, but I wouldn't have been surprised to have seen visible track marks and/or midget induced hickeys. And homeboy? Being born with a condition does not negate the lifestyle you live. So his outward appearance, and present company checks him off my list of people Im eager to donate my 10yr olds used clothing to. I'm kind of a cold-hearted bitch when a person refuses to help themselves. True, I don't know these people. But based on that, I reserve the right to assign to them any story-line that fits my first impression.

Real Talk.

Monday, June 25, 2012

Sausage Fingers

So, what I WANTED to blog about today was the comical tellings of how my girl, Jamie had a dance-off with a midget the other week, while out for girls night. Unfortunately, several drinks in and my ass lost all ability to capture moments via cell-pic so I really have no proof to back up my claim. What I can tell you is that it was awesome. You know what? Fuck it! It's my blog and I'll cry if I want to.

So, this glorious piece of awesome, Jamie is my dear friend. Yes, I'm using her real name here as I think she'd not only appreciate what I'm about to say, bout would enjoy the claim to fame. You see... Jamie and I are often, one in the same. The kind of crazy, random shit that only happens to me, also happens to her. My favorite quality about Jamie is well, her boobs. After that, comes her off the wall ability to go from normal smiley white girl into homegirl with the snap of a finger. This chick has a potty mouth, a twisted sense of humor and is not afraid to cut a bitch. Yes, she is my soul-mate. IF Ohio ever legalizes same-sex marriage, I've got a ring on stand-by.

Now that the homo-erotic worship is over, let's discuss one of natures greatest anomalies - sausage fingers. I'm talking about midgets, or little people here. I'm all about being PC, but for the purpose of this post, I shall refer to them how ever the fuck I want mmm'kay? So.... It's Saturday night, and I haven't had a night out in EIGHT months! You think perhaps that this could be related to my violent tendencies? IDK. So, Jamie and I get all whored up and set out for what is sure to be a night of toe-blistering good times! We get to a local bar pretty early for the night, but I needed a damn drink and didn't want to wait. Walking in the front door, up toward the doorman   *By doorman, I mean creepy as fuck guy who looked at our ID's WAY too long before sweating all over my hand while writing an 'X' in such a manor that a Parkinson's patient could have done a better job. Seriously, he was like hand fucking me, it was gross. *      As we walk through the doors, I see in front of me, the back of what appears to be a small child, maybe ten yrs old. My first reaction was to get pissed. I'm all 'What the fuck? They let kids in a fucking bar?' Well, said child then turned, and revealed himself to actually be a not-so full grown man. I couldn't even guess how old he was, because it's impossible to tell and ya... I got drunk. Anyway, I live in a small town, so while this isn't front page news, it did catch me and my tipsy mouth a bit off guard. He was sporting a 'Staff' t-shirt. This of course meant nothing to me because douchebags of the world wear those fucking things just to try and look cool. It doesn't work. *You hear that guys? It doesn't fucking work!* As it turns out, he was actually staff. Well, I think so but we'll get to that in a bit.

Fast forward through a few drinks and some random dancing .... So ya know how everybody has their own dance style? Well, Jamie gets a little ghetto. I don't mean like booty bouncing .. Well, okay, I HAVE seen her do that a few times. I just mean she has this way with her hips and hands, I dont even know how to describe it. So in this establishment, there are a few solid pieces of awesome. One, a white guy who looks like Napoleon Dynamite with 40 lbs, who own the dance floor unashamed with his old-school moves. Another, a very large black man aka Papa Bear- who can get down like he's been droppin' it like it's hot all his life. And wi-man. I dont remember how it came to pass, but somehow my friend and I find ourselves on the dance floor with all three of these gems at once. First, wi-man and Papa Bear battle it out. while it was pretty awesome, it was also slightly alarming. Wi-man doesn't blink. In a day of bath-salts, I'm suspicious of anybody who doesn't blink and immediately begin fearing for the safety of Papa Bears face. A circle has formed to watch this David vs. Goliath dance-off. No winner was crowned as you really just can't choose ONE over the other! Losing interest, wi-man turns to Jamie. Never afraid of a battle... she throws down. What makes this funny? The whole fucking time, wi-man is doing that weird crotch-grab thing guys do while NOT blinking, and sizing up Jamies face for supper. Jamie responds with her own. I distinctly remember one hand going up, in a 'give it up to my homies' kind of way, while the other appeared to 'tap' dat ass. Knowing I couldn't hope to hold my own, I stepped back and enjoyed the show. The thing is, I got the distinct feeling that wi-man doesnt bat for our team. He was pretty much eye-level with her crotch, and never batted an eye. That's not a pun about him not blinking, he really just didn't seem to give a shit. Trust me when I say, she's beautiful so clearly, not only is he a non-blinker, midget, but I believe also gay.  **He must have been a puppy kicker in a past life because Karma is laying into his ass!

Eventually, my sides hurt from laughing so hard and we headed back to our table. Maybe a song later, somebody pointed out to me that he was, in fact staff, and was in the process of clearing the empties from our high-top tables. This, must have pulled at Jamies heart strings. She pointed out to me that she ever so kindly had pushed all of the empties toward the end of the table, so he would be able to reach them when he made his rounds our way. (Awwwww)

I'm going to peace out girl-scout at this point, and save my segways for another time. This story leads me to wishing to tell of the midget I saw in the stroller down-town once, My friends little sausage fingers, and all kinds of other random shit. But for now, I have Teen Wolf to watch. 


Monday, June 18, 2012

They Are NOT More Afraid Of ME

Real talk- I have me a serious case of arachnophobia. Serious. Many people call my extreme fear irrational because they're "harmless" and "more afraid of you than you are of them". Well, those people are full of shit, and don't know what the fuck they're talking about! 

First- they most certainly are NOT harmless! They have six fucking eyes, and eight goddamn legs! Not to mention the fangs... FANGS! Do you KNOW how much shit you can fuck up with six eyes, eight legs and two fangs? A LOT! What do you even need eight legs for exactly???

Secondly- they most the hell certainly are not more afraid of me than I am of them! Malarkey. Saying this kind of shit to my face will result in being promptly punched in the throat! Real talk. 

As previously disclosed, I live in the 'country' in Ohio. In my neck of the woods, we see a lot of spiders. The majority of them being an evil creature named the Wolf Spider. Quite aptly named if you ask me. 

Look at this fucker! Just LOOK at him! Does he look 'harmless' or 'afraid' to you? No! He does not!
Did I mention that these suckers can jump? Well, they can, and it's terrifying!
Again, in the country.. we get a shit ton of these. I spray as much as possible, but with our location and having kids in the house, limiting the chemicals I can use... they get by! The good thing is that USUALLY it gets cold enough in our winters to kill them off before they get the size of my hand. The bad news- it did NOT get cold enough to do that this past winter. So, hell on legs are all teenage-mutant-ninja-spider big and extra aggressive this year! Just fucking lovely! 

Now, as I said... I'm scared of spiders. Petrified really. I'm not talking about the daddy-longlegs or anything. I'm talking about that shit up above. Also, if there is a brown recluse, or black widow anywhere in my state, you can bet your ass it will find it's way to my front door. My family all gets a good kick out of my fear. When I scream in absolute terror, instead of asking 'What's Wrong' or doing what a real family should do (SAVE MY FUCKING LIFE) .. They point and laugh as piss runs down my legs. None of them fear spiders, so it would only be so that I am the one to always find them! ALWAYS! Also, my husband is the worlds WORST spider killer! They always get away! To further plot my destruction with their spider friends.. except now, it's personal and they're PISSED! 

Please, enjoy a good laugh at my expense with the following collection of my more awful spider encounters:

Halloween

Several years ago, at halloween time... my kids had the fucking house LITTERED with those god-awful plastic spider rings. They come in orange and black, traditional colors. One morning while getting a kid ready for school, I plopped my ass down to help tie his shoe. Reaching back, I rested my hand on the floor apx. 3 inches from what I THOUGHT was an orange plastic spider ring. That's what I get for thinking. In reality, it was in fact a very real, very almost orange spider *origin unknown* lying in wait for me to drop my guard. Needless to say, there was yelling, screaming, crying and pants pissing. I lied to the elementary school office personnel when I had to explain why my kid was late for school. 

Pick On Someone Your Own Size

I have a dog. Well, dog probably isn't an accurate term. I have what people believe to be a tea-cup Chihuahua She's really just the runt of a litter of normal sized chihuahua's and was in danger of being eaten by the larger dogs in her house, so we took her in. Now, she's in constant danger of being eaten by everything else, including my 3yr old, birds of prey, and fucking spiders. You see, she has Small Man Syndrome. Because she weighs a whopping 2 lbs, she picks fights with absolutely everything smaller than herself. One night, she chose the wrong wolf spider to mess with. It laid the fuck into her, nearly tearing her paw off. It swelled to the point that her skin was nearly splitting. She also went into respiratory distress and was foaming at the mouth. For real. She made a full recovery with pain killers and benadryl, buy now has arthritis and limps on that leg. Tell me again how 'harmless' those creatures of death are! 

The Not So Itsy Bitsy Spider

One day, I was going through old clothes, so I could sort out what needed donated. About half way through the lot, I reached out and came back with a fist full of legs, eyes and fangs! I did what any sane woman does. I screamed "Oh My God!" Please, somebody help me" and other such things of the nature. While standing in the corner of the room, trapped... I heard the laughter start before anybody ever emerged through the doorway. My husband and all the kids responded to my distress call laughing out loud. Despite the fact that even my husband later admitted that it was the largest spider he had ever seen, it didn't stop him from teaching the then 2yr old to sing The Itsy Bitsy Spider in a mocking tone to me. Then, the two year old would say shit to me like "It's just a wittle spider, mama" .... I almost punched my own child. 

I'll Wreck This Fucking Car, I Swear!

Once, while in nursing school, I left the hospital, got in my car, put my keys in the ignition and then pissed all over my scrubs. Security was alerted by the sound of my screams. Literally. You see, the second I put the keys in the ignition, some large as fuck black monstrosity jumped from my steering wheel, onto my fucking face, dragging like 6 strands of webs with it. IT WAS GOING TO TRY TO EAT ME! Security killed the offending creature and sent me on my way, probably questioning if I was in fact, a nursing student or actually an escaped mental patient. 

A few months ago, while driving home, in a different car... I saw something on my black dash move. Yup! Another giant black monstrosity. However, this time, it quickly ducked inside a vent or something. My only options were to keep driving, and pray to the spider gods that it didn't try to pull shit like that one at the hospital, or to wreck my fucking car in an attempt to set it's ass on fire. Alas, being that I had a kid in the car, the second option was eventually vetoed, but only after serious weighing of pro's and con's. 

I Think It Eats Dogs!

One day, home alone with my kids.. I walked through the doorway from my living room to my kitchen. After I had made it about 2 steps into the kitchen, I froze. Realizing something wasn't quite right, I slowly backed my steps up, knowing what I was about to find.... Sure enough, the biggest fucking spider I have ever seen was just chilling on my wall, watching my ass as I walked by, about 3 feet up from the floor. Fearing for their safety, and not wanting to alert it, I quietly ordered my kids to their rooms. Reaching ever so slowly for my phone, I called my husband at work and demanded that he come home NOW! When he giggled and told me that he couldn't leave, I burst into tears, explaining to him how large it was, and how a spider it's size clearly eats dogs. I think it eats dogs! He felt as though I was exaggerating, so I toned it down, still sobbing and explained that it definitely ate stray cats, which is why we never see any around. - Clearly! Still, he would not come to my rescue (Some fucking white knight I have)   At this point, I had no choice- it had to be destroyed NOW, before it could get away and steal off with one of my children in the middle of the night. Fearing it's wrath, or getting too close - I first attempted to incapacitate it via chemical warfare. I emptied two hole bottles of hair spray, half a bottle of bleach bathroom cleaner, and eventually spray glue before I got it slowed down enough for proper squishing. Then, to prove myself sane, I left it's body right the fuck where it was, so that my husband would see how very large it was! Of course, I created the equivalent of a police barrier around it. Still... when he got home- IT WAS GONE! And I haven't had a good nights sleep since. 

Still think my fear is irrational? 

Friday, June 8, 2012

Ode To INK (And Abs)

I do believe I'll begin a 'Shirtless-Friday'


MY FAV!

I could go for a dip right about now..

Don't be shy honey.

I realize, based on his shorts that he probably doesn't bat for my team, but fuck it!

How'd you get so sweaty? Hmmm??

You're right! It does look hot outside.. best to remove your clothes.

Thursday, June 7, 2012

Daddy Is An Asshole

If we're friends in real-life, or if you're privy to my personal facebook page, you have probably already heard most of this story. BUT, since most of the whopping number of blog followers I have (what is there, like five of you?) aren't a part of my inner-circle of awesome, I thought I'd share....

In my time on this Earth, I've squeezed out three glorious, fat-headed (no, seriously, just ask my pelvis) spawn, and have a step-daughter to boot. The youngest, Lyric just turned 3 a couple months ago. God broke the mold with this one. He came out pissed. No, seriously, this kid came out swinging...


In three years, not much has changed....


The most notable difference is that now, he can talk and we've learned that he inherited my uncanny ability to verbally karate-chop! He's also a bit of a whiner, as many 3yr olds are. My husband has many admirable traits. The ability to calm a pissed off child is NOT one of them. Recently, the husband kicked Lyric off the computer. (Yes, my 3yr old can navigate his way on my laptop better than techy-stupid I can) Lyric was not happy. Michael (husband) got up and walked away, mocking the child *very maturely* in the process. 

Lyric says to me - "Mommy, why does daddy make my heart so sad?" ** Yeah, he played THAT card!*

Michael - (In a different room, mumbling under his breath) "Because Daddy's an asshole". 

20 minutes later, all is forgotten and Lyric had moved onto something else. OUT OF NOWHERE - Lyric looks at me and whispers "Mommy, Daddy is an asshole". 

**Pause for dramatic effect**

Of course, rather than correct him on his use of such language, I lost my shit! I learned the meaning of stress-incontinence while I pissed myself laughing! ... Thinking it was an isolated incident, I changed my panties and continued about my day. Later on, Lyric was once again pissed at his father for something or another. 

Attempting to distract him, the husband says to the three year old - "Want an orange buddy?"
Lyric (Without missing a beat) - "You eat the orange, asshole". 

**Pausing, so that you can go pee, or change your panties if it's already too late for you**

Now that I know it's not an isolated incident, I do what any mother would do - I laughed some more! Hey, if he were calling ME an asshole, it'd be a different story. But, he's not - he's calling my husband one, so I'm totally okay with it. The following day, all is forgotten. Michael has him outside, driving his power-wheels. Lyric comes storming inside, pissed off, yet again about something or another. Michael comes inside shaking his head and tells me that I just missed it! ... Apparently he pissed the 3yr old off AGAIN (see a pattern here?) And Lyric promptly hopped off his power-wheels and walked his ass inside. Trying to figure it out, Michael asked where he was going. Lyric - "I'm going inside because you're an asshole daddy".

Yep, I was a proud mother! I'll cut to the chase and share a few of the events that followed over the next several days/weeks. I'd like to point out that small kids often repeat 'bad' words, but rarely use them in the proper context. Lyric uses it properly every time! Except, for when he's using it as a term of endearment... which you can read about below. 

Day 3 of Daddy's an Asshole - Michael, Lyric and Destiny (step-daughter) returned home from Destinys softball game (I was at Braxtons (Eldest spawn) baseball) Lyric was screaming when they came in, and continued for twenty minutes (I have no idea about what) ... so ten minutes later, when he had finally calmed down, I approached him and said....
Me- "hey buddy"
Lyric- "Daddy's an asshole!"
That was it! And so, it continues.....

Day 4 of Daddy's an Asshole - Lyric wakes up screaming in the middle of the night, and wants to sleep in my bed. When I ask if he wants to lay with Mommy or Daddy, he says...
"I sleep with mama. Daddy's an asshole. "

Day 5 of Daddy's an Asshole - (It happens about a dozen times a day at this point, and I'm still laughing my ass off/agreeing with him each time)

*Lyric in need of a new pull-up (will this kid EVER poop in the potty?)

Michael- "Come on buddy, let's change your butt"
Lyric- " No change me Daddy"
Michael- "If you dont let me change you, you're going to bed"
Lyric- *get's in changing position*
"You're an asshole Daddy!"
Michael- "Well, fine! Mommy can change you then"!


Day 6 of Daddy's an Asshole- 

Michael is bitching and whining about the room being too bright. Mockingly, I say to Lyric who is sitting in my lap...

Me-"Lyric, Daddy's a girl".
Lyric - "No, Daddy's an asshole"
 
Day ??? of Daddy's an Asshole -  
@9am, Lyric and I go into the kitchen to make lunch. (Yes, I know that's early for lunch, but he wanted it and we've already established that I have a problem denying him.. so get off my back about it) 

Pointing to a picture of Michael and I, Lyric says..
Lyric - "That's my mama"
Me - "Yes, that's me, your mama."
Lyric - "That's my daddy asshole".
Me - (giggling) "Yes, that's your daddy"
Lyric - "My daddy's an asshole. I 'loves' him."
Me - (Now laughing loudly, I bend to kiss his forehead...) "Yes, you love your daddy"
Lyric - "My daddy asshole"

** He just used the term 'asshole' as a term of endearment for his father. 

LAST DAY of Daddy's an Asshole - It's all fun and games 'til your kid embarasses you in public. So, Michael goes to pick up Lyric from preschool. They're outside, having story time. Michael stands back, so not to interrupt. When it gets to Lyric's turn, the teacher says to him...

Teacher - "Lyric, do you have a story to tell?"
Lyric - *stands up* "Ya, my daddy's an asshole" 

And THAT was when I finally began correcting him, and quit laughing (as much) when he said things like that. We've replaced 'asshole' with 'poopie-head' so.. that's improvement right??




Some other funny shit I had on my personal facebook about my kid...

  • Lyric decided to take up mini golf. Except he cant get the ball to go in the hole. Improvising, he decided it best to instead use the club as well, a CLUB and attempt to bludgeon the ball to death. Primal sounding grunts and screams can likely be heard at a great distance. Don't be alarmed- its just Lyric "golfing" / working out some aggression issues

  • Random yellings from my family room...
    Braxton to Lyric - "quit putting your balls on my head!"
    He says this muffled because the three yr. Old is actively T-bagging the ten yr old!
    *sigh*

  • My in-laws gifted Lyric with an iPod touch for his third birthday. I personally didn't endorse this, nor did the other older kids who want, but don't have one. I'm also not at all surprised that less than two weeks later, it is "hiding" - meaning Lyric lost it. And this, people is why children shouldn't receive tiny, expensive pieces of technology before they have mastered NOT crapping in their own pants...

  • While in the laundry room, I hear several loud BANGs! I come out to find a mutilated, deflated Chuck E Cheese balloon (The likeness of the mouse) on the floor with a prideful looking Lyric standing over it's body. 
  • Me - "Lyric, what happened to your Chucky balloon"? 
  • Lyric (holding a plastic ball bat in his hand) -  "I made it die mama. "

    What the bloody hell? He's all cracked out, wont nap and is now killing shit. Just bloody great.

  • My two year old just gave us his list of demands for his 3rd bday next week:
    Buzz Lightyear toy- okay.
    Dinosaur toy- sure.
    Cupcakes- no problem.
    Play lots of games- you've got it!
    Be a big boy- you know it!
    An iPod- wwwhhhhaaaatttt???

And finally, I'd like to leave you with the greatest Easter photo ever taken. This was from 2011. I didn't even bother trying to take one this year, as there would be NO topping the previous...




Monday, June 4, 2012

Jesus does not have a facebook page.

First and foremost - do NOT e-mail me, talking shit about how I'm going to hell, or offering to pray for my salvation based on this post. I have nothing against Jesus. My religious preferences are none of your goddamn business, and have nothing, what so ever to do with this post. 

Now that the formalities are out of the way, I shall continue. Jesus does not have a facebook page. If you're one of those morons who 'shares' that shit, I fucking hate you with every fiber of my being. I'm talking about the following type of posts... (Not limited to) 



The shit I see // What it means to me



*Like if you believe in God. Keep Scrolling if you love the devil. // I'm just going to keep scrolling because you're a fucking tool, and I refuse to buy into your propaganda. 






*Like if you 'see' the image (Insert a pic of some ridiculously over-photo shopped pic of clouds, made out to look like nature magically created an image of the baby Jesus saving the world or, as believable, eating a Whopper Jr. with cheese, while smoking a joint with the caterpillar from Alice In Wonderland) 
 // Sheep say 'baaaaaaaaa'

--You see God's hands opening the heavens? I see God spreading his cheeks, so he can take a shit on us!





* Like if Jesus is your savior. // Yes, like this, while your profile pic is of you doing a keg-stand, topless, with 12 frat guys waiting in line to make you scream out the name of your savior. Whore. 
--Listed Jesus, praying, church, partying, dancing, etc. under 'interests'



This list could go on, but you get the picture. Don't be a douche people. Love your God, that's all fine and well. Just don't do it on my fucking facebook. 

I'd like to leave you with the following...


Inappropriate humor to be found...

I don't even know how to lead this off, so I'll not embarrass myself by trying. Let's just dive right on in. 2 days ago, I had a bad day. I have a lot of those, but this one stands out. First, I was dealing with the unpleasantries of womanhood. (I'll spare you the details) but just know that I'm feisty on a day when I don't have a demolition  derby happening inside my womb, or the fucking river of Egypt running between my legs. When those events ARE taking place, it's best to stay the fuck away. Well, it was one of those days when I had to go outside, versus holing up in the dark to wait out my misery like I WANTED to do!

I was stuck somewhere I didn't want to be, doing something that I didn't want to be doing. You see, my step-daughter had to dance at some local carnival for her dance company. Following that, she had to walk in a parade. This in it's self is not the problem. The problem was that her mother never told us about any of this shit until the day before, and then she promptly hopped her ass out of state, basically waving and saying good luck. We had plans for this weekend, but everything had to be shuffled around. Not to mention, that on this day of outdoor festivities, the weather god's took a big fat shit on us! Where it had been sunny and 80 for weeks, it was suddenly 50, cold and rainy. So me, with my river, derby, attitude and a pissed off three-yr old in tow, were really not in the frame of mind to be dealing with such. 

Anywhoo... we get to redneck carnival 2012. I use the term 'carnival' loosely here. It was basically a parking lot that held apx 4 rides, being operated by the best of the carni-world. --SOME actually had a few teeth that could be seen through their chain-smoking, while assisting tiny-tots being strapped in to flying death machines assembled over-night by these masters of their craft-- Out back behind, there was a little pavilion which would serve as a 'stage' for the dancers to perform. Now, I use the term 'dancers' loosely here as well. It's basically a bunch of little girls ranging in age from 4-17 dressed like Vegas working girls, gyrating and pelvic-thrusting to masterful musical pieces such as "I'm Sexy And I Know It" . On the far end, there were several blow-up toys for the kiddies. You know, like the bounce house. This actually would have been pretty cool If I wasn't constantly dodging the lit cigarettes of the mothers carrying their shoe-less toddlers, or being plowed into by the not-so-occasional stray child. At this point in the game, the weather is holding out. It's chilly, but dry so I'll suck it up. My 3yr old son and 9yr old step-daughter decide they want to get in line for one of these blow-up activities, so the husband takes them over while I frantically dig through my purse for some Aleeve. Upon approaching them now in line, I find myself in the presence of one VERY happy caterpillar! 


Why is this caterpillar so happy? Well, because it's being penetrated repeatedly by kids, through what can only be described as it's 'FOLDS' ... Please, just take a moment to view this picture. I'm confident that you will see what I see. I see a giant peach-colored vagina that kids have to crawl through. Also, You see that HS football player standing there? His purpose is to separate the labia... I mean folds so that the smaller children can crawl through successfully. 

**This 17yr old boy can officially start his senior year truthfully talking about all the spread he got over the summer! **

So while the kids wait in line, and my husband pretends not to know me, I stand back taking pictures and laughing my ass off as kids repeatedly violate this giant caterpillar. THEN, just when it can't get any better/worse depending on how you look at it. (Better for the 'Happy Caterpillar' , worse for the kids who don't know they've just been violated) ... my eyes follow to the END of the attraction. 



I couldn't get a wide-angled shot of the whole thing, because there were too many fucking people in my way.. but this is how the kids exit the attraction. After being vaginalized, they travel the length of the creature, going over and under pathogen-covered obstacles, only to be SHIT OUT! The giant caterpillar had it's fun, felt you inside her, is now done with you, and will now dispose of you in the most degrading of ways. I'm not sure what ass-hat thought up this thing, but I kind of love him. Being able to find inappropriate  humor is the only thing that kept my ass out of lock up that day!

**This story is kind of long, and the rest is mostly just me bitching, so if you got off on the happy caterpillar, and don't want to keep reading, it's all good.**

After all this, we go park our butts on the grass in front of the pavilion to watch the 'dancing'. I'm still dodging dog shit, half naked babies (It's fifty fucking degrees outside) and the future of our world (The 300lb women * plural* who are pushing strollers with twins and quads while clearly knocked up with a cigarette hanging out of their mouths.) I used to be a dancer. The shit happening on stage is not what I would call dancing. It's seriously a series of pelvic thrusting, air humping little girls who's big attraction is when they turn around and shake their half-covered asses for the crowd. Grandpa must be so proud! Regardless, there's nothing to be done about it, so I settle down and try NOT to say out loud, any of the shit that I'm thinking in my head. While I'm not captivated by the 'entertainment' before me, what the fuck else do I have to do? And then, some stupid bitch does something equally stupid... she parks her fat fucking ass DIRECTLY in front of my face! I mean literally. We're sitting in the grass. On our butts. Half way through, Bertha brings her foldable chair over, opens it up two feet from my face and thuds down into it. I've never felt sorry for an inanimate object before this moment. The woman was HUGE. I tried to take a pic, but literally, could not get her whole ass in the frame. It was that big. I'm not hating on big girls here... I'm hating on them blocking my view of the entire horizon! Not to mention, if she had farted, I would not be alive to type this. Trying to calm my fury storm, my husband offers to trade me spots. Because I know there is just no hope at salvaging my mood, I reply to him "Nope! I'm just gonna stew on it, and use it to channel my rage." Surprisingly, he was not surprised by my response. 

I always think, it can't get any worse.... right before it gets worse. So finally, while counting the number of curses I know, the heavens open up, and try to take us over the rainbow. 45mph winds, cold down-pour. Lovely. After this, was a 2hr long parade, in yet more freezing rain, and a whole bunch of other shit, but I'm bored typing, so you're probably bored with reading as well. I'll call it on that note. I have nothing imaginative to use to end this, or a 'moral of the story' ... 

That's it bitches.


Saturday, June 2, 2012

Shit! How could I forget?

More than 24hrs without some mother-effing yummyness? What the hell is wrong with me? How could I have dropped the ball like this? Please accept my humble apologies....


My husband would be so pissed!
(Obsessed Buffy/Angel (David Boreanaz fan)

He LOOKS really dumb. But, does it really matter? Not in the least!

For the paranormal fans out there :)

Sweet Jaysus, please, don't let me interrupt you... do continue!

See! (Some) clothing can be sexy too!

Friday, June 1, 2012

ROTMFFLMMFAO!

Come again? What do you mean you don't understand that title? Duh! It's so clearly obvious that 'ROTMFFLMMFAO' = 'Rolling On The Mother Fucking Floor Laughing My Mother Fucking Ass Off'


Who DOESN'T know that? Well, let's start with me! Okay, I'm not socially inept. But this shit's just getting out of hand.


Let me state the obvious that unless you're on bath salts (please don't eat my face), you're NOT actually 'ROTMFFLMMFAO' no matter how funny something may be. In reality, you likely just gave a good chuckle. This is false encouragement people! Please do not tell others that they are funnier than they really are. It encourages them to continue to try to be funny, post dumb shit and further annoy the masses, or primarily, ME! I'm not saying that the occasional shortened grouping of letters isn't okay... it totally is.. I'll throw out the tried and true 'LOL' every once in a while...  but that's mostly to help people understand that I'm JOKING when I post a smart-ass remark on their facebook, or through text.


Speaking of facebook ... you know what? Nevermind. I've got material for days about the ettiquete that SHOULD be followed on that site, versus the complete brainless, asinine, crap that people do. It'll have to wait for another time ... mmm'kay?


Why do I have such a problem with this particular acronym? Well, I don't. I hate them all. Including, but not limited to..


Acronym //  Translation // What the ever powerful, all mighty Wizard of Oz has to say about it...




1.     BFF - Best Friends Forever – Well, until that bitch stabs me in the back again.
2.     CYA - Cover Your Ass -or- See Ya – Cover your ass, because you’re making a stupid mistake right now!
3.     DBEYR - Don't Believe Everything You Read – Except this! Believe EVERYTHING that I say, and ignore the rest!
4.     DILLIGAS - Do I Look Like I Give A Sh** - How would I know what you look like? This is a fucking text dumbass!
5.     FTW – For The Win -   THIS one, I’ll allow as I use it myself on occasion
6.     GR8 – Great – Is it really that hard to type the other two fucking letters? What are you, a lisence plate?
7.     ILY - I Love You – Aw, I love you too. Now, get me a beer!
8.     IMHO - In My Humble Opinion – If you’re leading off with this, you’re anything but humble.
9.     J/K - Just Kidding – No, you’re not. That’s what you type when you’re telling it like it is, but don’t want to get jumped in the parking lot for it.
10.  L8R – Later – Please see Number 6.
11.  LMAO - Laughing My Ass Off – Literally? Get to the hospital NOW! And put that shit on ice! They may still be able to reattach. If not, RIP ass!
12.  LOL - Laughing Out Loud - Are you? Are you really?
13.  LYLAS - Love You Like A Sister –Typed, I’ll allow this from pre-pubescent girls, spoken aloud will result in a fork to your forehead!
14.  MHOTY - My Hat's Off To You – you’re not wearing a hat.. dick.
15.  NIMBY - Not In My Back Yard – what the fuck does this mean? Does this mean you don’t like anal sex? Really?
16.  NP - No Problem – I’ll allow this.
17.  OMG - Oh My God- *Please see editorial note below*
18.  OT - Off Topic – NO, new topic.. your topic blows cat chow chunks!
19.  POV - Point Of View - Mine's better than yours is! HA!
20.  RBTL - Read Between The Lines – Just say what you mean bitch!
21.  ROTFLMAO - Rolling On The Floor Laughing My Ass Off  … OMG PLS some1 kill me! THX.
22.  RT - Real Time – as opposed to….?
23.  THX or TX or THKS - Thanks
24.  SH - Shit Happens – Indeed, it does. Please see previous posting.
25.  SOL - Shit Out of Luck - I don't understand how this became a phrase in the first place. Shouldn't it read 'Shit! You're out of luck'?
26.  STBY - Sucks To Be You – frequently.
27.  TLC - Tender Loving Care – Don’t go chasing waterfalls
28.  TMI - Too Much Information –What’d you expect?
29.  TTYL - Talk To You Later - You've become boring. I must now move on to bigger and better. 
30.    WTF - What The Fuck - Possibly, the most allowable acronym. Please, continue to use this. Better yet, just spell it out. Everything is funnier when you curse! 

**Editorial Note Regarding OMG - A little back story on this particular acronym. First, I'm a very sarcastic person. (Say Whaaaattt???) And dry mocking of the sheep of the world is among my favorite ways to 'stick it to the man'. I often say things like OMG in conversation, in a sarcastic tone. In doing so, I'm not actually being serious, but mocking whatever the fuck you just said. 

Ex: You say something dumb like "It's hot out side today" 
      Me thinking - 'No shit, bitch? I hadn't noticed the river of sweat running between my boobs! Thank you ever so much for imparting your knowledge on me, for I would have never come to that conclusion on my own"! 
     I say - "OMG I KNOW"! 

The problem - as it turns out, my sarcastic voice sounds just like my everyday voice. So, many people jump to the conclusion that I, am one of those blonde idiots who uses phrases like this, when in reality, I'm basically calling you a moron to your face! You're just too fucking stupid to pick up what I'm laying down! 


In conclusion - don't be a douche. Spell it out, or just don't fucking say it. The world will thank you!