June 18, 2007

Oh I have some news: I’ve been tagged again! Do you know what this means? No? Lemme tell ya. It means that elephants will stampede through your house. I’m so not even kidding.

Okay, beautiful Bella has tagged me and why? Because she thinks I’m a lonely bag lady super fabulous, that’s why. Apparently I’m supposed to tell you 8 random facts/habits about myself, which I know you are dying to know. And why wouldn’t you be dying to know? You have nothing better to do, that’s why. Here are the rules:

Each player starts with eight random facts and/or habits about themselves.
People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.
At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.

Let’s get started shall we? Ya.

I like Strawberries & Cream drinks from Starbucks (and Melie, my sweet friend is shipping me a whole crate of them. I think. Or maybe she said she was going to punch me in the face. I dunno.). And by like them, I mean I will kill for them. For real. I’ll cut you if you if you try to butt in line ahead of me, thus making it take longer for me to get my drink on. Stand back.

I am terrified of spiders. I don’t care if they’re small, cartoon-y looking, pink with sparkles, have bags of money to give me, look at me lovingly or are big, hairy and smelly. I hate all spiders equally. I’m fair like that.

I clean my house alot. I clean my bathroom just about every.single.day. Why? I’m not sure. I just really like my house to be tidy and neat and smell nice, which reminds me, I have to clean my house………………………

Miss me? Okay, continuing on:

I sleep with a fan on. I like the ‘white’ noise of the fan to sleep and I also like it facing toward me. I like to be blown. on.

I have the worst luck with cashiers & customer service people who I have to contact about any given problem about any given product I might have issues with. Never fails. I get the dumb ones, the rude ones, the morons, the ones who want to hit me hit on me, the people who have no time for my whiny bullshit sweetness and who generally just do not have any desire to help me. I really don’t understand those people having the self control not to kick me in the neck not wanting to do their best for me. Hello? I’m so worth it.

I love the song Stayin’ Alive by the Bee Gees. Make fun of me and I’ll get all ninja-y on you. Try me.

I despise sneakers. I can’t even begin to tell you how much I hate them. I do have a pair to work out in but I actually shudder when I have to put them on. I actually kinda throw up in my mouth when I think of sneakers. Let’s stop talking about them now.

My new wake up time is 5:30am. I wake up every morning now at 5:30am. Why? Anyone who can answer that question for me, will be nicely rewarded. How? Oh you just might as well hold your damn breath wait and see.

I’m a rebel. What do I mean by that? Well this is fact NUMBER 9, so that means I didn’t do the EIGHT facts as I was instructed to do, and that my friends, makes me a rebel. Ha. I laugh in the face of rules.

I’m also going to break another rule. I am supposed to tag 8 people but since I know two thousands of people, it wouldn’t be fair to only list 8 of them. So since I’ve stated that I’m a rebel, I’m going to say, if you come here and read this, consider yourself tagged (you can thank me later with cash) and then I will seek and find you and come and see what you wrote about me, it’s all about me yourself.

Well it’s that time again, it’s been 5 minutes: time to clean my bathroom. Gotta go get my Mr Clean on.

June 13, 2007

Here’s a piece of mind blowing information for you: I don’t use soap on my body. I’m not saying I don’t bathe or shower, but I’m saying I don’t like the feeling of my skin being dried out, so I don’t use soap. Instead, I use Baby Dove. I mean it’s in the shape of a bar of soap but they claim it’s not soap and I do believe them because my skin isn’t all dry and flakey and I will cut them if they’re lying to me. So this is where I get a little creeped out. I was watching tv yesterday and a commerical came on for Dove chocolate. Chocolate, as in, that yummy brown stuff we all like to eat and/or smear on ourselves and have it……nevermind. See, I kinda have a problem with the people who create my bathing products, now creating things we can supposedly eat. Like is it really stomach friendly? Or is it just a chocolate bath product and if we actually ate it, we’d get the trots or some other toilet issue? I’m sorta skeptical and I’m doubting I will eat Dove chocolate. I mean it looks like chocolate but it could be a conspiracy and we all know how those go. Moving right along.

Not that you care but did you hear this? Remember Kevin Federline? He’s that wanna be supastar, who wears his pants well below his ass line, big white sneakers, crooked hat and wife beater, who used to be shacked up with Shar Jackson, implanted his seed *shudder* twice and she then became his baby mama and then he dumped her to have sex with (and marry) *shudder muchly* BritneyI like to show my saggy vagina ALOT and shave my head and beat things with my Mary Poppins umbrella and then get skanky extensions and show my vagina again ALOT Spears and then implanted Shitney with more of his seed *Insert vomitting here* and then she became his baby mama too? Remember? Ya, snoresville but you have to listen to this because it quite frankly blows my mind how trashy and messed up some people truly are. Well, now, supposedly, allegedly, Shar Jackson is pregnant AGAIN with, you guessed it, Kevin’s baby. Ummmm what? So, let me get this straight. You Shar, had to have had sex AGAIN with K’Fed inorder to be implanted with his seed AGAIN and that my dear, is just gross. Makes my life seem so boring normal. Oh the fun. Good luck with that. I feel sorry for those children. All 36 of them. Meh.

Oh, I started weight training on Monday. And by that, I mean, I don’t have weights or training, so what I am saying is, I’m still doing alot of eating bonbons cleaning. Na, I’m just shitting you, I did start weight training. My husband bought this big home gym thingy and I have been using it. My arms are feeling like rubber, so I’m actually typing this all with my eyelashes. Yes, they are that long and pretty. Eat your hearts out.

I have to mow my lawn today. If I sound whiny, it’s because I am whiny and I’m not wanting to mow my lawn but unless someone wants to come and do it for me, then it’s just me and my mower. And my extension cord. And my garden gloves. And my giant bottle of vodka sunscreen. I suppose I should actually get off my ass and do it but that would mean I’d have to get off my ass and that sounds so lame and boring. And I’m clearly too fantastic to be either lame or boring. Oh the suffering I suffer.

Oh PS. I eloped 18 years ago today. Ah not with myself, but with a hot guy named Anthony. I mean sure, if I was going to elope with myself, I would because, who wouldn’t? What? Nevermind.