Oh children, it's that time of year when everywhere you look is love- especially if you look at the grocery and the Walgreens. It's a sea of discount chocolate in paper heart boxes, and those damn "be mine" valentines that have taunted me for years. Love is like those damn candies, you think it's cute and sweet but then it sours, it doesn't last long and you think, God I want to spit this out but I hope nobody is looking.
Infatuation is an ill-fitting sweater (usually cheaply purchased at H&M) that you think you simply must have but is best discarded after wearing it out a time or two, because after the wash the next day you realize it doesn't really fit you ( I know what you're thinking...i'm not maya angelou but i should be)
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Potty Humor: I blame Oprah
Do you ever look at your poop? I blame Miss Oprah- I'm always looking for that damn S shape that Dr Oz says we need.
Have you ever thought... what the hell is that? when did i have sesame seeds? Oh my God, that sesame seed was left in my colon from 1973. Let's be honest, poop is part of the human experience. It's right up there with love and food for me. I don't take pleasure in it but I can certainly take pain. Nothing worse than being at the mall and having to poop. Nothing worse than being in public and having to go after I ate Taco Hell. I'm just saying, we've all been there. You could hear my screams coming from the airport bathroom and that's the horror from the cleanliness of the facilities.
And the worst thing is constipation... it is like walking around with a basketball, no... a basketball made of led in your stomach
and no matter how hard you push, sometimes I imagine it's like labor, or how many laxatives, which then I imagine what it's like to be a supermodel nothing happens... then finally it's like a miracle and you feel lighter and your clothes fit better and you think- damn how much did that thing weigh?
Well, I know this is gross and crass but I had to get it off my chest.
Today's post is brought to you by the letter "S" and the number 2
Have you ever thought... what the hell is that? when did i have sesame seeds? Oh my God, that sesame seed was left in my colon from 1973. Let's be honest, poop is part of the human experience. It's right up there with love and food for me. I don't take pleasure in it but I can certainly take pain. Nothing worse than being at the mall and having to poop. Nothing worse than being in public and having to go after I ate Taco Hell. I'm just saying, we've all been there. You could hear my screams coming from the airport bathroom and that's the horror from the cleanliness of the facilities.
And the worst thing is constipation... it is like walking around with a basketball, no... a basketball made of led in your stomach
and no matter how hard you push, sometimes I imagine it's like labor, or how many laxatives, which then I imagine what it's like to be a supermodel nothing happens... then finally it's like a miracle and you feel lighter and your clothes fit better and you think- damn how much did that thing weigh?
Well, I know this is gross and crass but I had to get it off my chest.
Today's post is brought to you by the letter "S" and the number 2
Sunday, January 16, 2011
(the) hangover club
Oh chuldrun, I am hurting behind this in a bad way. Have you ever woke up on the Sundee morning and you still drunk? That's a bad, sad and turrible place to be. I'm halfway in a party and halfway want to grab the turlet and hold on fur dear life and stuff. Now, don't go getting all preachy on me. I know it is damn Sundee and the lord Jesus is looking down on me with shame. But, fret now Christian brothers and sisters I got the Joel O on the tv. Missing service is like a snow day for me... if snow came out of a Jim Beam bottle.
I had a wonderful, exhilirating (look I've tried to spell this word 5x and it still is in red typo squiggles, my bad ok) exhilirating, facsinating evening. I felt like Katy Perry in that damn firework song. My heart was beating like the lyrics of a Taylor Swift song. Alas, childrun I woke up alone and all I can think is I need me some damn friend chicken. But, don't you worry about me honey I am not having a problem. I am determined to make this headache a happiness headache. The headache pain is directly in correlation to the amount of fun had the night before.
Let me give you a glimpse into last night:
- said by one of your mama's friends: " there was this child in the restroom. And he's just standing around I am like what does he want? He's too young to be a attendant. I'm done doing my thing at the urinal and this child says 'that's awesome'... well I'm feeling pretty good about myself, a little creeped out but a compliment none the less- but unsure how to respond to this situation of bathroom admiration. Then I realize that there is a tv built into the mirror in the bathroom and that must surely be what he considers awesome."
You can tell it was a night. But your mama is no alcoholic. The difference in a drunk and an alcoholic is if everyone has a good time or if anyone ends up crying.
Completely off topic I need to share some things I have learned (no worries this is prior to the anyone consuming Jesus Juice)
Rules of the road updated:
- The turnabout is basically a free for all. Yield signs are a mere suggestion. People drive through the turn about as fast and furious as they can like they are fleeing a burning barn for their life or like I imagine a cab driver in Kuwait
- You can park your car just about anywhere if you leave your hazzard lights on. No need to pay these ridiculous parking lot attendants, pull up in front of the restaurant and leave your blinkers on. If you plan to stay a long time pop your hood and pull to the side street with your blinkers on. No one will dare get involved
- Most important rule of all- the golden rule of driving is ... if you hit it and IT could possibly die it has the right of way. I may or may not have yelled that at some lady in a Hyndai (now I know she has bigger problems driving a car no one can rightfully pronounce but heiffer needs to not run up on folks trying to get across the street).
- Last rule- when in doubt use your horn. I am a horn blower, the worst kind of driver but I have been known to use my vehicle as a weapon and the horn says " i mean business" well it does to me, most people see it as an invitation to give me the damn bird.
ok i must go and get me some fried chicken chuldrun. I will see you later and remember be good because Jesus is watching and he keeps score. Actually, Santa clause is watching too, maybe they just trade off shifts?
I had a wonderful, exhilirating (look I've tried to spell this word 5x and it still is in red typo squiggles, my bad ok) exhilirating, facsinating evening. I felt like Katy Perry in that damn firework song. My heart was beating like the lyrics of a Taylor Swift song. Alas, childrun I woke up alone and all I can think is I need me some damn friend chicken. But, don't you worry about me honey I am not having a problem. I am determined to make this headache a happiness headache. The headache pain is directly in correlation to the amount of fun had the night before.
Let me give you a glimpse into last night:
- said by one of your mama's friends: " there was this child in the restroom. And he's just standing around I am like what does he want? He's too young to be a attendant. I'm done doing my thing at the urinal and this child says 'that's awesome'... well I'm feeling pretty good about myself, a little creeped out but a compliment none the less- but unsure how to respond to this situation of bathroom admiration. Then I realize that there is a tv built into the mirror in the bathroom and that must surely be what he considers awesome."
You can tell it was a night. But your mama is no alcoholic. The difference in a drunk and an alcoholic is if everyone has a good time or if anyone ends up crying.
Completely off topic I need to share some things I have learned (no worries this is prior to the anyone consuming Jesus Juice)
Rules of the road updated:
- The turnabout is basically a free for all. Yield signs are a mere suggestion. People drive through the turn about as fast and furious as they can like they are fleeing a burning barn for their life or like I imagine a cab driver in Kuwait
- You can park your car just about anywhere if you leave your hazzard lights on. No need to pay these ridiculous parking lot attendants, pull up in front of the restaurant and leave your blinkers on. If you plan to stay a long time pop your hood and pull to the side street with your blinkers on. No one will dare get involved
- Most important rule of all- the golden rule of driving is ... if you hit it and IT could possibly die it has the right of way. I may or may not have yelled that at some lady in a Hyndai (now I know she has bigger problems driving a car no one can rightfully pronounce but heiffer needs to not run up on folks trying to get across the street).
- Last rule- when in doubt use your horn. I am a horn blower, the worst kind of driver but I have been known to use my vehicle as a weapon and the horn says " i mean business" well it does to me, most people see it as an invitation to give me the damn bird.
ok i must go and get me some fried chicken chuldrun. I will see you later and remember be good because Jesus is watching and he keeps score. Actually, Santa clause is watching too, maybe they just trade off shifts?
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