May 21, 2007

Okay, what the hell is with a migraine that never fully goes away? I practically gag at the thought of popping one more pill but what can I do? Short of loping my head off, which, quite frankly, I kinda need, I’m not sure what the solution is. Perhaps if someone would kick me in the ass, then my concentration would be on my butt and therefore, I’d forget my head pain. I’ll sleep on it.

I took my kids to see Shrek 3 this weekend and I personally thought it was really funny. The ‘critics’, whoever the hell they are, said there wasn’t ‘enough donkaaaay’ but let’s remember people, the movie is called Shrek, so if Shrek appears in the movie more than the donkey, then duh. I thought all the characters were funny and laughed quite alot, so there. Bite it.

My husband bought me a lawn mower and a weed whacker/whipper snipper/thinga-ma-jiggy, so I’m guessing that means my job is to mow the lawn. However, I don’t mind because I like a nice lawn and I know I’ll hire the 12 year old across the street anyways do a great job and make everyone proud.

We hit a few yard sales on Saturday but since it was the long weekend here, they were few and far between. We did find a handful of good deals though and as well, did see a whole lotta shit out there too. One lady was selling trophies. As in, someone, perhaps her son, won for hockey or golf or some such thing. Ah, ya, his name was on them too. So I guess if a Randy Stairs comes along and wants to pretend he won some stuff back in ‘85, then maybe he’ll snatch those up. Another person was selling an old rotary phone from like 1980. In beige. Okay. It’s between an antique and out of date. So basically it means, it’s a piece of shit. Throw it out. Noone is going to buy it. Another lady was selling wire hangers. For $10. There were 7 in the pile. Listen, it’s a yard sale. People want deals. If you want to go into business with your wire hangers, fine. But selling them in a dirty cardboard box in your back yard isn’t going to make you rich. Just sayin’.

I did get 2 brand new picture frames for a dollar and a very nice lady gave my daughter a like new stuffed dog with a red leash and she was on happy high for the rest of the day. She called him doggie. Very original. My son got 2 hockey games, one for his computer and the other for his XBox, so he was also floating. Amazing how you can put a smile on your kid’s face for under $5 bucks. Dollar store here I come.

Oh speaking of Shrek again, I tried one of those McFlurry things from Rotten Ronnie’s today, the fudgy sludgy pudd n’ pie Shreky minty ones with pieces of fudge and candy in them. They look very green in the picture and claim to be mint flavoured with pieces of fudge. Sounds good in theory. Not so good in real. First off, the guy waiting on me, only gave me half of the small that I ordered. Sure I don’t necessarily need more jiggle to my ass by eating a whole small McFlurry but dammit, if I’m paying for the fucker, then I want the full small. Not half a small. Get it bud? Ya. Second, he didn’t mix it well enough, so most of the green coloring or whatever it was, toxic dayglo shit for all I know, was all clumped at the bottom of the cup. Third, it did not, I repeat, did not taste the least bit minty. False advertisement people! Unless dinkledorf forgot to mix the mint flavour into it, which based on his skills performing his tasks, is entirely, very possible. And lastly, the bits and pieces of ‘chocolate covered candy’, were in fact, rock covered candy and I’m pretty sure I broke a few teeth. I highly recommend NOT eating one no matter how much you love Shrek. Or maybe just don’t order it from the Mickey Dee’s at the Walmart I go to. Beware is all I’m sayin’.

It’s midnight and that means my pumpkin is going to rot or my stage coach is going to turn into a pumpkin or my bed is going to melt into pumpkin pie……..see, I’m tired and can’t even get that right. Sweet pumpkin, err, dreams.

May 8, 2007

I got a search string today on my blog for ‘trashy ugly girls’ and I was # 2 on Google. What’s that about? I know I’m no beauty queen but trashy and ugly? Okay, I’ll take trashy, but ugly? I don’t think so. At least I hope not. My mirror tells me every morning that I’m okay. Maybe that bitch is lying to me. I’ll cut her.

Big, hairy butts are ugly. Flappy hairy, smelly pits are ugly. Betty is ugly. Dog poo melting in the sun, you guessed it, ugly. And gross to boot. But me? Well I’m not stuck on myself but I know I’m not ugly, at least I don’t think I am. Okay I was so sure a few sentences back but now, not so much. Thanks Google searches for making me feel unsure of myself. I will say, however, I remember this guy from grade 7, who I was totally, secretly in love with and one day he shattered my dreams by turning around in his seat and telling me, point blank, that I was ugly. Whatever bizatch. I hope you’re fat, bald and hope your wife is having an affair with some hot, Latino man. Bring it. I wish I could remember his name. Derek I think. Guess I wasn’t as in love as I thought.

It was kinda hot here today. I’m going to try not to complain about the weather because as humans, we moan about the cold and snow in winter and then about the heat and sun in the summer. So I’m just making the comment that it was warm here. That’s all, nothing more. My windows are open and I can hear someone whipper snipping their lawn. Isn’t that exciting? I’m glad I can bring you up to date, interesting pieces of my life. I rock.

I cleaned out my dresser today and threw out some clothes that I don’t wear anymore. How can one person (me) have so many clothes? Where do they all come from? I think I shop/sleep walk, because quite honestly I don’t remember buying that much. I really should stop, but I do like clothes. Alot. You know, it’s probably too late to reform myself, so why even bother? I should have been my pyschiatrist because I really do know myself. Again, say it with me, I rock.

I’m craving something. However, I’m not sure what. Has that ever happened to you? You’re dying for something but you don’t know what you want? I think I want Chinese food but I am pretty sure I’m not going to get any. Maybe if I ask my husband real nice, he’d pick some up on his way home? Pray for me. Well, praying seems a bit much for Chinese food. Maybe just crossing something for me. Like fingers. Or whatever you like to cross.

I’m going to go take a bath and turn on the jets. Wicked isn’t it? I have a tub with jets. Okay, so it’s not a private jet, that would fly me around the world, now that would be wicked, but having a tub with jets, is kinda neat is it not? Better than taking a bath with a creepy clown that makes fart bubbles. Don’t ask.

May 5, 2007

Remember I said I was going to tell you all about my moving tales? Ya. Well I decided, what’s there to tell? I mean you pack your shit in a box, tape up the box, load the box onto a truck, take box to new house, unpack box and crush box. Not that interesting really. So instead, let me regale you with my week.

Monday, I unpacked more stuff, cleaned. Tuesday, unpacked more stuff and cleaned. Wednesday, unpacked……..you know, I see a pattern here and it’s kinda boring too. Geez, I thought I had shitloads of fun to tell you about. Apparently it was more fun in my head thinking about telling you. Or maybe that was the booze talking? Who knows.

I finally got my desk set up. Ah, well, not me per say, my husband. He stayed up until 1am last night putting it together. I was using a Rubbermaid container for my desk, monitor was on my chair and my chair was my ass on the floor. Not a great office look really. This is the part where you feel sorry for me that I had to sit on the floor whilst on the ‘puter and then feel happy for me because I now have a real desk. Dont you love when I tell you how to feel? I know you do. You like me being bossy. Now send me money dammit.

Today is Saturday. Now sure it could be Sunday somewhere else or maybe even Tuesday, but here my friends, it’s Saturday. And you know what that means? I don’t either, I was hoping you did. God, could you be alittle more helpful? I have nothing interesting to do today. Well I do have to go shopping later at some point. Right now though, I can just sit on my ass because everyone else is still sleeping. I will of course have to feed my kids when they get up. The rule is, they should be given food at least 3 times a day or they riot. And who wants a mini riot in their home? Not me, that’s for damn sure.

I went to the grocery store to return some shower curtain hooks the other day. When I purchased them, I didn’t notice that there were only 6 hooks in it even though the box said ‘12 shower curtain hooks’. Like did someone buy it previously and take 6 and then return it? I mean who only needs 6 shower curtain hooks?

Hi, I’d like to return these hooks, there’s only 6 in the box.

Yes. I see there’s only 6, what’s the problem?

Ah, there are supposed to be 12 in the package.

I don’t think so.

Yes, it’s true. It says so right on the box.

Okay.

Okay? So, I’d like to get a refund please.

I don’t see it on your receipt.

It’s the very last item on the receipt.

Okay. *Just stares at me, kinda creeping me out*

Okay, so can I get a refund?

How did you pay for these?

Ah, cash.

How do you know?

It says so on the receipt. *WTF mate?*

Okay. I’ll do it.

Gee, thanks. Superfantasicsuperdeduper. I get all the nutjobs.

That about sums up my fun filled week. Oh wait, I went out for breakfast yesterday with my 2 breakfast wenches. We then hit the Dollarstore..appropriately called Dollarama. Everything is a dollar. I’m sure that’s not news, since most people have been to a dollar store where everything is a dollar. I’m just sayin’. It was fun. I went in there to buy nothing and came out with 30 items. Funny how that works. And by funny, I mean so what?

Okay my daughter just woke up and is talking crazy. She’s hungry. Yada yada yada. When are kids NOT hungry? That’s what the hell I want to know. If you can tell me why, I’ll give you a million dollars. And by million dollars, I mean I’ll send you my Monopoly money, bitches. I’ve got tons of it.

April 11, 2007

Tonight my 6 year old daughter wanted to know ‘if I think any of the products we have in our house have been stolen from other countries and brought here by pirates’. Ah, no, I’m pretty sure that’s not the case. She said she’s ‘going to investigate it’. Okay Nancy Drew.

I received a phone call from some independent firm, who wanted to do a short survey with me, about the company who provides our electricity. Ha! Oh, you mean the same people who were heartless and totally not understanding at all? Ya, I’m going to give you the time of day. I said, it was not a good time to do the survey and I was probably NOT the best person to discuss said power company’s customer service. You won’t like me very much if you listen to my opinions. I was asked what would be a better time to call back. Oh, let’s see. How about 3034. I will probably be dead by then and not give a shit either way.

My husband was teasing our 11 year old son, saying how could he let it snow again last night and son’s reply was, ‘what do I look like, the weatherman’? I guess not. Those damn weathermen, always giving us crappy weather when we just don’t want it. Bastards.

I did some more clearing out in the storage room. God it’s creepy in there. And why do I we hang on to so much stuff? Shameless really. I’ve now lost count of how many boxes/bags of stuff I’ve gotten rid of. I have boxes of school work from Sean and Matt, that I’ve been saving since they were in elementary. I mean sure, keep a few things here and there but honestly, their entire decade plus of school things? Just plain crazy loving. That’s me though. I can’t let go of all the math sheets and spelling tests. I did find a funny gift that Matt had made me when he was about 8, for mother’s day. It was a thingy (not sure what it’s actually supposed to be) made out of toilet paper rolls, tissue paper and part of a cereal box. I’ve not any earthly idea what it is but it’s very creative. I’ll give him that.

Hey did you know I’m totally hooked on HGTV? I’m so into all the real estate shows and all the home reno programs. Very weird, because I’ve never had much interest in that kind of stuff previously. Maybe it’s because I’m a new home owner and it’s put me in some kind of house trance. I guess that’s possible. Or maybe it’s all the alcohol sit ups I do.

Aren’t you glad you came here tonight to read? You’re all comfy in your jammies or naked, whatever floats your boat, and settled in your chair or couch if you have a laptop and can, you know, put your computer in your lap and were entertained beyond belief by my story telling? I know, I amaze you and honestly, it’s my pleasure to be so fasinating to you. I live the fast life and although you often get heart palpatations from reading about my exciting life, that you’ve actually had to go to your doctor to get pills to control that, I thank you for risking your safety to continue to read me. Now go take your pill before you have a stroke or somethin’. I’ll try not to do anything too exciting for the rest of the evening but if I do, you’ll be the first to know.

April 10, 2007

Raise your hand if you’ve eaten way too much of your children’s chocolate from Easter? Your shirts are probably stained from it too right? And you forgot to go pee in the toilet and just did it in your pants because you were too busy gorging yourself on chocolate? Am I right or am I right? Oh. Anyhooo, moving right along…..

I think the Easter bunny was a little tipsy this year. She ended up putting a bottle of bubbles in her son’s Easter basket. And what’s the big deal about that? Well the bottle was a duck. Yes, a duck filled with bubbles. You’re thinking to yourself, what’s the big deal? Well, the retarded Easter bunny forgot that the 11 year old boy that lives in this house is terrified of ducks. Although we don’t know why, he just is. So great job Easter bunny. You suck rock.

We had such an exciting Easter lemme just tell you. I am probably a bitch for telling you all about our excitement because then you’re going to be jealous and then end up throwing food at me but that’s okay, my shirt’s already stained from the chocolate remember?

I was awoken at 7am by my daughter. She apparently didn’t get the memo, that Easter isn’t like Christmas and mommy doesn’t give a rat’s ass about baskets and candy and that we do not need to wake at the ass crack of dawn to do an egg hunt. It’s really just not necessary. So she pestered me for 2 AND A HALF HOURS while we waited for hubby and her brother to wake up. They decided to sleep in. Just my luck. She just couldn’t believe that we had to wait for them to get up. I told her that, sure, you go wake them up and see what happens, I dare ya. She decided that maybe she should listen to her mother and instead of waking them, she tortured me with reasons why we should wake them up and how life isn’t fair when you wake up super early because you’re excited it’s Easter and everyone else just wants to sleep. Oh the injustice of it all. She made me do a questionaire. She asked me things like ‘do you think the Easter bunny is just some dude dressed in a giant rabbit costume or do you think it’s just a giant bunny’? And ‘if you were allowed to rob a bank, would you’? And ‘what’s your opinion on parents who are snoopy, you know, parents who go through all your stuff’? What is she 17? Am I on trial here? Geez. All I wanted was to be able to sleep until 8am. Is that asking too much? I think not.

Once hubby and Ryan got up, the kids rifled through their goody baskets and then did the chocolate egg hunt. They told me the Easter bunny was kinda lame in his/her hiding of the eggs and that he/she should make it harder next year. Like they aren’t 2. Soooorrrrry. *Note to self* Don’t hide eggs while drinking eating.

After all that fun, we got dressed and went to the new house to work. We spent all day there. All day. I was envisioning a barbequed steak and a baked potato and thought for sure we’d go home and make it a dream come true. Instead daughter begged her father to take us to McDonald’s. Yum. I love eating there so I can feel nausous and bloated and become delusional from the toxins in their food. It was the best Easter dinner ever. Ever. I know, I know, you’re so freakin’ green with envy right now that you almost want to beat me up. I know I shouldn’t have said anything but I’m evil like that. I just have to make you all drool over my daredevil, livin’ on the edge of my seat lifestyle. It’s a habit that I just can’t break.

I’m off to do more packing. How can one person have that much stuff in her closet? I mean really, who has that many trophies for being cool and sexy in their room? Sheesh, it’s embarrassing for me. It’s just not fair to you how awesome I am. But you’ll get through it and love me just the same.

April 7, 2007

My daughter decided to put on her pj’s, a pair of green socks and some shiny black patent shoes. She then plugged in her father’s microphone into the cd player and did some karaoke. And dancing. And more karaoke. That is alot of work and of course would tire one out. And the proof is in the picture:

I guess all that diva-ness played her out. I wish I could just fall asleep on the floor with my shiny black shoes on. Wanna hear about my day? Of course you do. You can’t get enough of me.

I woke at exactly 6:30am and I know it was exactly 6:30am because I forgot to turn off my cell phone alarm and it was right beside my head. My big dumb head. It’s Saturday. Why would I have to get up at the butt crack of dawn? I wouldn’t. Except that I forgot to turn off my alarm. Who’s fault is that? Oh. Mine. I already admitted that. Onward we go:

I decided I should get an early start on the day and that’s why I went back to sleep until 7:15am when my husband woke me. He went to work and I looked around at all the stuff that is still sitting here, waiting to be packed. Why can’t we just toss everything and start fresh? Get all new furniture, dishes, books, pictures, children, socks, bath mats, all of it. Noooo, we have to keep it and pack it all up in boxes and plastic containers. I thought some of you beeyotches were coming to help me? Huh. I was sure that you all emailed me, promising you’d be here for me. Oh, sure, I was dreaming that? What, do I look like I’m nuts?

I went through boxes of stuff. All day long. Boxes of clothes that belonged to my daughter. How can one child have that much? Who’s fault is that? Oh. Mine again. Geez, you people are relentless. I donated 2 boxes to Freecycle, am going to sell some and put aside a box for my wench girlfriend. Well, she’s not going to wear the clothes but her youngest daughter will. Oh and a bag of shoes and boots. My girl is 6. How does a six year old have 40 pairs of shoes? Oh. I see where this is going. Gah.

I managed to get some work done in the storage room. You should really be cheering for me on that one. I rarely go in there, it’s really scary and I put my fear aside and braved it all by my lonesome. I’m figuring that if we’ve not used anything that’s been stored in boxes for almost 3 years, then chances are it’s not worth keeping. Wanna come to my house for a bonfire?

After I did all of that, it was about 5:30pm and I was starving. So I had some yogurt with granola. That is really quite yummy. Mind you it’s not a steak, but it’s close. Okay, not close but still, it’s tasty. I did get a steak too but that was later on. It was cooked very well. My husband knows how to barbeque a piece of meat lemme tell ya. I’ve tried barbequing, once or twice. I’m sure you all know how that went. Let’s just say I didn’t know a t-bone could be deadly weapon if it’s cooked too long.

That about sums up my day. Ooo, gosh, I thought it would play out way more exciting than it’s reading. I was sure I would have had you on the edge of your seat, baited breath, waiting for each pulse pounding sentence, dying to know what’s going to happen next. Not really the case though is it? Most of you are probably wiping drool from your keyboad because you nodded off after the first paragraph. Hey, I’m not a miracle worker you know. I’m tired and my back is sore and I still have to go clean my kitchen. Ya, is anyone gonna come and help me do that? Nooooo, I didn’t think so. Oh well, I hope you all sleep well and I’m going to my mailbox on Monday and I’m expecting some cold hard cash for my house warming because you said you’d send me some. Don’t tell me your gorilla ate it. Your dog maybe, but your gorilla? Nope not buying that.

April 3, 2007

I hate power companies. I want to name the particular power company I hate but I won’t because maybe they’re like a certain ridiculous combed over billionaire loser, who like to sue people.

I paid our bill in full on Friday but guess what? We got cut off on Monday anyway. I must be retarded, because I was certain if one paid one’s bill, then you were entitled to that service? Hmmm. I guess not. So we’ve been without heat since yesterday at noon. Almost 24 hours ago. Oh and lucky for us, we’re in below normal temps for this time of year and we’re getting SNOW. I’m not 100% sure how cold it is in my house but I’m guessing it’s around 40 F. I’m not even kidding.

How am I using my computer you ask if I have no power? Well they give you a partial load limit which runs a few things. We have 2 lights, the phone, tv and computer. And our fridge and furnace are supposed to run as they are considered essentials. The fridge works but the furnace doesn’t. And having the fridge work is great an’ all, since who wants their food to rot but I can’t cook any of that food, so who cares right? At this point I want heat. I’ve made several phone calls but it’s like talking to a brick wall. The bitch sweet lady I talked to today, yelled at me and said for all she knows I paid our neighbour’s bill or my brother’s. That’s because the stupid bank teller (I don’t like banks either) neglected to put the power company’s account number on the receipt, so they see, yes we did pay $x amount but it doesn’t show to what account. We only have one account but like nice lady yelled today, maybe we were paying the neighbours account. Because we all know how much I love my neighbours. I mean honestly, a little common sense might go a long way people. Would I really call 8 million times a day, upset, complaining that I’m fucking cold if I paid the neighbours account off? Get real.

So I should probably go and treat my frostbite before my digits start falling off. I was going to suggest I make myself some bacon and eggs but oh, I can’t because I have NO POWER. Even though our account is paid in full. Isn’t that just dandy? I love how things work. You pay, you get nothing. You get to freeze your ass off in your own house. I love that. And by love, I mean I want to chew nails with my teeth and then spit them like daggers at certain people who sit behind their stupid desks and act all holy-er than thou. If anyone has some sunshine or a heater, could ya’ll send it to me? Thanks.

March 1, 2007

…..My life feels like it’s in the toilet and because of that, I feel fugly. Kinda like the above picture. I don’t have any idea who that is and no offense, thankfully I don’t actually look like that but I wanted to show you how I feel. I’m not going to get into any details really because honestly, my 3 500 fans want funny, not whiney/sad crap. Well it will be crap but if we’re gonna talk crap, let’s at least make it funny right? I’ve got my hand on the pulse of everything. I’m super cool like that.

We have less than 3 months to be moved out and now no house. The fugly pink house has 100% been sold and although I was really upset about it, my 10 year old son said today that we’ll just keep watching and maybe the new owners will someday want to sell it. He’s got a point.

I’m a tad worried about clumps of hair falling out when I wash it. I mean I do have lots of hair and so far no bald spots, but damn it’s creepy seeing that much hair in the tub. I always freak a bit, thinking it’s a redhaired rodent and then realize, ah no, it’s not. I’m chalking it up to stress and I’m sure a little booze bag of cookies will fix that right up. If I start looking like baldy Britney, then I’ll worry.

I think I sprained my wrist but I’m not 100% sure. I do know that it hurts like hell when I type and when I tried to punch the retarded bank teller in the ass today, I could barely get a good swing so I’m thinking I did something to it. Next time that bizatch is gonna meet the high heel of my boot. No need for wrist action for that. Goooood thinkin’.

I’m wondering when spring is going to come around? I mean I know it officially arrives on March 21st according to my calendar but that’s 3 weeks from now. I want it now. Like 2 days ago. Is that asking too much? Like what the hell does Mother Nature have to do that she’s too damn busy to get spring going. Spring into action MN (that’s what I call Mother Nature, MN. We’re tight like that. Sorta.). Get it? Like my play on words? I’m so, wordy.?. Ah ya.

I got a new pair of pants a couple of weeks ago. Isn’t that exciting? Aren’t you thrilled for me? You’re probably slapping your leg right now, saying, ‘damn that girl is a rebel, buying new pants’. I know it and you know it.

Tonight is my favourite tv night. I watch ER and Survivor. Any ER and/or Survivor fans out there? Wanna talk about it? Don’t you just love Luca? And by love, I mean, don’t you want to rip off his clothes (probably not so much you Ozy, unless there’s something you want to tell me?) and smear chocolate on him and then……………………….oops, sorry, I fell off my chair. On that note, I should go help my kids with their homework because goodness knows the maid/chef/tutor didn’t bother showing up today. Damn lazy bitch. Peace out.

February 23, 2007

It’s Friday incase you didn’t know. I had to go to the bank this morning and it was really quite uneventful. *Crickets* Soooo, how ’bout that weather?

I was reading some stuff today (that’s why I decided to call this post ‘just stuff’, because it’s going to be a big jumble of shit all over the place ramblings) and there was a story about a woman who swallowed her lovers false teeth. Apparently they were trying out a ’special type of passionate kiss’. Like kissing is kissing for the most part unless you’re into sucking the gums/teeth (literally) out of your partner’s mouth and then swallowing them and then shitting them out. Yes, she shit them out later on. You know, I’m just going to stick with the boring ole’ French kissing stuff, you know touching tongues etc etc. Call me old fashioned.

Oh, guess what? A beaver was spotted in the Bronx River recently. Apparently they haven’t seen a beaver in those parts for like 200 years. Huh. I’ll show you a beaver. *Wink*

Some postal dude in Mexico was caught with 10 tonnes of mail in his house. Ah. Okay. Gosh I love people.

I’m listening to the song ‘Nasty Girls’ from back in the day. Nice lyrics. ‘I guess I’m just use to sailors, I think they got water on the brain, I think they got more water upstairs than they got sugar on their candycane’. Damn that’s deep.

Hey I flat ironed my hair today AND I did it in less than an hour. That’s a miracle. If you saw and/or felt how much hair I have and how thick it is, you’d be cheering for me right now and possibly awarding me with a medal or trophy of some sort (or sending cash. I’ll post my address later). I’m quite pleased with myself. Now I just need some place to go to show it off. Like who’s going to see my fine lookin’ hair if I sit here on my ass all day? Maybe I’ll go to the grocery store and hopefully some old coot will hit on me again today. That’d be fun. I love being visually assaulted by someone with cataracts and 8 inch coke bottle lenses. That’s just how freaky I am. That’s hot. Hot like a nasty ass rash

My daughter has a half day at school today so that means I have to entertain her all afternoon. She’s a hard one to entertain sometimes. There will be no quiet for the rest of the day. That child talks like there’s no tomorrow or the next day or the next day. I wonder what kind of drama she’ll tell me about today? I’ll let you know when I know.

Oh gosh, did you hear about the loser that called 911 because he couldn’t get into some club? Like, what the fuck? Here’s what happened. Well, now my version might be slightly different than the actual voice footage released by the 911 operator. But what the hell, here’s my take on it.

911: What’s your emergency?

Douchebag: They will not let me in! Help!

911: Who won’t let you in where sir?

Douchebag: They won’t. I can’t get in. I wanna get in you know?

911: Sir, tell me what the emergency is. Are you hurt?

Douchebag: Damn straight I’m hurt sista! I want in and they won’t let me in. I got all gussied up and am lookin’ mighty hot if I do say so myself. So I want you to order them to let me in!

911: Who sir?

Douchebag: The club owners. The bouncers. Or doormen, whatever you call them.

911: The club owners sir?

Douchebag: Yes! I wanted to go dancing tonight, I have my little ‘bojangles’ type shoes on, all set to get my freak on and boogy down and these asswipes said I can’t get in. I want to get my freakin’ freak on, get it freak?

911: Sir, this is not an emergency. Any establishment has the right to refuse you sir. I’m sorry but this is not a legitimate call.

Douchebag: That’s what you think! I got out my purple shiney shirt with the ruffles and my black pleather pants and my pointy shoes and dammit, I want in. I looook gooood. Soooo good.

911: Sir, I’ll have officers there right away. They’ll take care of it. (and by take care of it, she means, they’re going to kick him in the face and make him eat the ruffles on his shiney shirt)

Douchebag: Thank you. I knew I would have the law on my side.

I guess he was arrested for drug possession (ya think?) and unlawfully calling 911. There truly are some wonderful human beings out there.

Okay, peace out. Time to pick up Miss Chatterbox and then maybe we’ll go to Subway so the ’sandwich artists’ can oogle over my drunkeness hair.

February 22, 2007

*Warning* This post may contain whining, bitching, moaning, a big pity party atmosphere and general complaining.

You may remember that I’ve secretly, all spy like, kinda mentioned a “fugly pink house” that we were hoping to buy. Well I found out yesterday that the house has been sold. And not to us. So thus the reason I feel like whining. Who would have thunk it? That I would want a really super ugly pink house. I do love pink just not for the outside of my house. Oh wait, it’s not my house. Anyhooo, moving on.

I have a migraine from hell because it’s not only making my head feel like it’s about to blow up but it’s making my teeth ache like someone punched me in the face. Hard. This is day two of said hellish migraine.

I went to the grocery store this morning and almost stepped in someone’s big gob of spit in the parking lot. How freakin’ gross is that? I can tell you, along with the disgusting spit, people would have been stepping in VOMIT had I indeed stepped in it. I cannot handle anything resembling snot or snot itself.

As I’m shopping this morning, I’m pretty sure I was hit on by two old men. One guy followed me through at least 4 isles, oogling me up and down. I know I’m hot but please, noone over 100 50. And the other old guy was standing behind me in the checkout line and I think he touched my ass with his hand. Or maybe it was his trouser snake. Or maybe it was his shopping basket that accidently hit my arse. I dunno.

Then. Then. Then. The cashier screamed that I ate her baby and punched me in the neck. Or maybe she said, ‘here’s your change, have a nice day’. One can see how I could mix that up. They’re so similar.

I decided while I was out getting groceries, that I would purchase vodka, rum, beer and chocolate celery sticks to comfort myself. Nothing like getting smashed and fat a long, green crunchy vegetable to cheer a person up.

Oh. Oh. Oh. I have to do more packing this weekend because well, we have to move out soon. And ya, we don’t have a house now. Oh I mentioned that up there. I’m mentioning it again, because I can. Why does a male dog lick his balls? Because he can my friend, because he can. I rest my case. I warned you that this would be whiney and mopey. So bring it.

I’m going to go now and flush my head in the toilet because that’s the trend now for complaining bitches. And everyone knows I’m nothing if not trendy.