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The Bigger, The Better

17 Jan

The day that I saw it, it was a Tuesday and I had been drinking heavily for a Tuesday. Had I known that on this particular Tuesday I’d be seeing something this large, I would have slowed down on the boxed wine.

I first noticed him staring at me like an owl would watch it’s prey high above the tree tops; fixated, ready, waiting for the moment to strike. I pretended I hadn’t seen him and concentrated harder on the dull conversation I was having with a girl whose boobs were hanging a little too far from her shirt. She was going on and on about her recent boob implants. Right about the time she began describing the difference her implants make during a motorboat, she abruptly stopped to alert me that I was being watched.

Uh, like that dude is totally staring at you.” she said as she nodded in his direction.

Yea, I see. I think he might be that guy from last weekend. I was at a party and flashed my chest to a bunch of frat brothers. I think he probably recognizes me.”

Uninterested by my comment, Boobies continued on with her implant story and I leaned in closer to avoid the boy staring at me. Suddenly, he began walking over in my direction and stood above me and Boobies waiting for a break in our conversation. “May I borrow this little lady for a moment, mam?” He asked Boobies while extending a hand to me.

Um whatever, Yea I guess“. Boobie answered.

Upon taking his hand, he walked to me opposite side of the room where the music wasn’t so loud. I had really hoped he wasn’t part of the flashing last weekend. He couldn’t have remembered them…after all, my boobs were about as large as a pair of fat male’s, they couldn’t have made THAT much of an impression.

He interrupted my thoughts, “I think I have seen you around here before. Maybe another party across town? Or last weekend?”

Um, no I don’t really hang out outside of campus that often, so I doubt it.”

Well, I think you’re pretty and this party is lame. Want to get out of here?”

That actually sounds awesome right now, let me get my stuff.”

I was grateful to be excused from the conversation with Boobies and my drunk confidence was peaking…I needed to make the most of it.

After he drove about 40 minutes he stopped his car in front of an old, red barn. I had no idea who this guy was but for whatever reason I felt comfortable enough to be out in the middle of nowhere with him.

Come with me.” He directed

He led me to a corner of the barn that was covered in leftover piles of hay. I noticed his demeanor immediately change from calm to uncomfortable. His palms and forehead began accumulating beads of sweat and his speech stuttered with every word.

Do you want to see something really big?” he asked me nervously.

Um, ok?” I replied.

He smiled with relief and walked behind a stall door. “I’ll be right back, I just have to get it ready. Stay there.” He disappeared for a few moments, fumbling around. Suddenly he moved the stall door and that’s when I saw it…the biggest thing I’d had ever seen.

My mouth dropped to the floor in shock…like this

Whoa.

Whoa.

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Speechless

Holy Mother of God, what the hell was that?!  I thought to myself. What does he think he’s going to do with that thing and me?

Now, before I continue, I want to be very clear about something. I have never considered myself sheltered; I’m no prude, but I wasn’t expecting to be put in such an awkward situation so suddenly.

I stared at it in amazement. I didn’t even know what to do or how I should react. Part of me was so intrigued, while another part of me was petrified. He could really hurt me with that thing.

Sensing my confusion, he quickly blurted out, “Do you want to touch it? Most people see it and want to touch it.”

I’m not sure…

“Haven’t you done this before?” he questioned

No, I uh, grew up in a suburb outside the city. Suburb-girls don’t get out much. I have pretty strict parents.”

I think you will like touching it. Go ahead, give it a good ol’ stroke, I promise it won’t bite ya.” he joked.

I might have asked him to take me home if I was sober, but I was hammered and didn’t care whether it hurt or gave me some terrible disease, so I inched overly slowly and reached my hand down, “Good God it’s so big!? “

I had no doubt it was the biggest I had ever seen, it must have been some kind of world record.

They really know how to grow them big out here in the country.” I blurted out to break the awkwardness of the situation,  “Have you…have you ever measured it?” I asked.

“Pa and I took out a tape measure one day because Pa had noticed it was strange-looking. If you can believe it, it didn’t break the world record by a long shot. The record is held by a bigger, black one. Them black ones are always big, so no surprise there. But it’s still real impressive for a non-black.”

By this point the size of it had sobered me up and all my liquid courage had disappeared. I could hear my mother’s voice telling me, “Don’t you dare! It’s gross! You’ll get a disease!”
I was suddenly feeling rebellious and started to reach down but hesitated once more. “Are you sure this is ok? I haven’t done this kind of thing before so I am not really sure how to do it right.” I questioned.

It’s easy, I do it myself all the time when I’m bored.” He began to show me by pointing to one end of it. “Start at the base of it and slowly work your way to the tip of the head. It’s that easy.

I closed my eyes and reached my hand down until I felt it. For it’s size, I was actually surprised how soft it was. It tensed up and I could feel it becoming more rigid in my hand. I did exactly as he instructed and started towards the base and then to the top as he had said to do. I repeated the steps again and again while he smiled the whole time. It stopped flexing and inched closer and closer to me. Eventually, the top was touching my stomach.
 
Clearly, I was doing it right and it was pretty easy. The girls in my dorm room had made it sound so much more difficult than it really was.

After we were finished with a little petting and light stroking, I made sure to go inside and wash my hands. It certainly wasn’t clean and left a sticky residue.

Note to self, next time I do that, I am going to need gloves or something but at the time, I really didn’t care because I enjoyed the whole experience. My first experience with the biggest I had ever seen.

As I was dropped off at my dorm room, I thanked my host and told him we should do it again soon.

Next time, I won’t be so scared of it.” I said as I threw him an eye wink. He giggled as he wished me a good night.

That memory will forever be ingrained in my mind. Since that day, I’ve opened up and seen all different types, from black ones, to white ones, ones from Mexico and even some in the park, which is pretty unusual. But none of them compare to the one I saw in the barn that evening.

To this day, the biggest cock I ever saw was that drunken night in the old, red barn.

Scroll down to see the picture of it!!

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What A Beauty

What A Beauty

The Biggest Cock I Ever Saw.

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Part of Finish The Sentence Friday! See more here! Come play with us there!

Janine's Confessions of A Mommyaholic

The Hidden Gems In My IPhoto

15 Jan

Do you ever wonder why you choose to take pictures of certain things and people?

No? You have a life and don’t have time for stupid thoughts like this? Kudos to you.

I don’t, so I think about these things.

I rarely snap photos, I find it to be a hassle. So when I do take pictures, it had to be very important to me during that moment. Last night I desperately wanted to avoid doing anything that involved washing dishes,  cooking dinner or reading “Brown Bear, Brown Bear” for the 100th time, so I hid in my computer room. I ended up going through 3 years worth of photos I had taken.

And this what I found….IPhoto Gems.

“Obama’s Booty Call”

Date: Fall 2008

Location: JMU Auditorium- 6:00am

Re-cap: During Obama’s first Presidential Campaign he visited JMU to give a speech. Me, being super liberal in college like all the cool liberal arts kids, decided to wait in line at 5:00am to get a front row seat to see Obama speak. I wanted to be so close that every time he said, “Yes, We Can”  the spit from his mouth would drop on my head showering me in Obama holy water.  Anyways, I snapped two pictures; one of Obama during his speech and the other of this:

If this is your ass, let me know so I can tag you.

If this is your ass, let me know so I can tag you.

Clearly it was worth the photo.

“The greatest bull riding coach ever”

Date: Summer 2012

Location: Atlantic City, Mechanical Bull Riding Pit

Recap: I was drunk in Atlantic City (surprise, surprise) and spotted this tiny man (4’9) walking around the casino. I decided to ask him to be my mechanical bull riding coach for the evening.   He obliged and took a picture with me before my record-breaking bull ride of 39 seconds.

What a guy.

What a guy.

AKA: Pablo Balls.

“Faceless Bach”

Date: Summer 2010, night after Bull Riding Incident.

Scene: Atlantic City, bachelorette party

Re-cap: No clue. All that was left was this picture. Please note the little blonde gremlin on the bottom licking my leg.

Yes- we are still friends.

No- she does not have a leg-licking fetish.

bachparty

“Photos of a Newborn”

Date: Spring 2010

Scene: My room in my parent’s house

Re-cap: Boy Ryan and I spent our Saturday nights taking pictures of our kid and found ways to distort her face.

I have about 30 photos of her as a newborn and over 100 photos of her as a newborn, with a distorted face.

I swear I am a decent mother.

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“Marshmellow Girl”

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“Alien Princess”

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“Plastic Surgery Gone Wrong”

And eventually when the photos got boring, this happened:

She turned out to be a great kid.

“The Monster Face”

Date: Sometime in 2011

Scene: first apartment

Re-cap: Addison’s infamous Monster Face. When we discovered she could make THIS face, we bribed her with candy for months to do it for the camera.

This video is the product of 5 sweet tarts, 7 M&M’s and 3 Fun Size Snickers.

Parenting at it’s finest.

“Random Stranger”

Date: Summer 2013

Scene: A bar in New York City

Re-cap: Let me just state, I have a ton of pictures with random people I don’t recall ever meeting, but this one takes the cake.

Who is the random dude in this picture? Where did he come from? Is he human or alien?

Whatever, I’m just glad I snapped a picture of the strangest looking person I have ever seen.

Is guy a real person?

Bitches Be Like, For Real?

“The Best Decision of My Life”

Date: Senior Prom 2007

Scene: Jersey Shore

Re-cap:  When I turned 18 I decided to celebrate by piercing whatever body part I wanted. I chose my nose and took this picture to remind me of my newly gained independence. When I uploaded the picture to IPhoto, I named the photo album, “Best Decision of my life“. I hate the 18 year old version of me, what a douche bag.

Yes, I totally shared this

Yes, I totally shared this

“Stoner Dog”

Date: Winter 2008

Scene: College apartment

Re-cap: Party at my place.  A friend of my husband’s, then my boyfriend, was instantly infatuated with my dog, Joba. I believe he used the words, “Spiritually Connected” and asked to take Joba for a walk.

An hour later, he brought Joba back and Joba was a new dog. Joba was calm, quiet and peaceful for the first time since I brought him home. I snapped a picture to capture the rare behavior.

Little did I know until later that night that Joba was stoned off his ass.

This is a picture of my dog high as a kite while wearing a green sweater.

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“Sasquatch Sightings”

Date: Spring 2009

Scene: Spring Break, Panama City

Re-cap: I nicked named this old man “Squatch”. “Squatch” would roam the beach everyday while we were on Spring Break. He was on a mission to score some booty with the College Female Spring-Breakers.  He was so obvious and so awkward about his intentions, I captured his picture daily.

Hunting for college booty all day, everyday, since 1890.

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Day two

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Day three

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Day four

I think I will go through my pictures more often now.  A picture really is worth a 1,000 words.

Do your pictures have stories behind them?

How I Spent My Million

10 Jan

I used to have a million dollars but I spent it.

Let me tell you a story…

AustinPowersTShirt_DrEvilOneMillionDollars_Black_CU_5

This is what I looked like with a million dollars.

Last year I was notified by the state department that I had money that needed to be claimed. So I called up the state department to see how much I was owed and nearly fell on the floor.  The  lady on the other end of the phone informed me that 1 million dollars was left to me by an anonymous donor.

Immediately my mind rushed with ideas…I could spend all this money on…Cars? Houses? Saving the whales? Putting it into savings?

I couldn’t land on a concrete decision, although I definitely decided it was not going into savings. This very question kept me awake for days.  I even asked the heaven’s to give me the right answer.

Fast forward to a few nights later when I was awoken by a bright light shining through my window. It seemed to get closer and closer with every second until it was literally hovering above me. Panicked, I shook my husband to wake him but before he could wake up, a voice whispered in my ear…

“THAT GIRL RYAN?” said the whisper.

Um, Yes?” I trembled.

You have been summoned by the almighty holy one. Come with me please.”

The light wrapped around my arm and began pulling me out of bed.

Hey! Stop that, I refuse to be part of your human experiment. Go back to the planet you came from. No, means no!”

The light continued to levitate me despite my protests and out the window we flew.  Up, Up and away we ascended into the air and began rapidly climbing intimidating altitudes. Once we were well beyond Earth’s atmosphere, we reached a large grouping of pure white clouds. As we got closer, the clouds seemed to morph into a small tunnel, not even big enough for a car to fit through.

As we soared through the tunnel quickly approaching the end, I could see a vast valley of hills, clouds and rainbows; it was a beautiful scene. Doves, swans and even flying flamingos trafficked around us as we sped faster to a rusty gate floating in mid-air.

This is the best representation I could find

This is the best representation I could find

The light placed me right in front of the rusted, broken gate and instructed me to stay put until a man came to greet me… his name would be: Cory Monteith.

“Wait, Cory Monteith…as in Finn from Glee?”

“Yes, now shut up and stay put” the light replied as he disappeared into thin air.

A few minutes later a chariot of doves descended in front of the gate and they were indeed carrying Finn from Glee. I was completely star struck.

He was adorbs

He was adorbs

Hi That Girl Ryan, It is great to meet you. I frequently read your stuff, always gives me a good laugh

Well thanks; I’m honored to hear that…sometimes I just go on and on and wonder who would read…Wait, aren’t you dead? Wait! Am I dead?”

“No, no, no you’re not dead. You are just lucky enough to pay a visit to heaven for a brief conversation and proposition.

Let me explain… I am the CFO here in heaven and I manage all of heaven’s assets and basic yearly budget. Recently, heaven has been experiencing a serious budget deficit and it has left us in quite a financial rut.

As you might have noticed, the pearly gates are not so pearly and need vast repairs.The angels are also up for new wings this year;  you wouldn’t believe how much nerve China has for charging those outrageous universal shipping fees for the wing material!

Plus, Jesus has been begging me nonstop for IPads for his 12 disciplines. You just can’t say no to the son of the “Big Guy” upstairs.  Long story short, we came up with a plan to give certain individuals the chance to buy their way into Heaven and help us fund Heaven’s expenses.”

I sat to ponder his explanation for a moment…

So you are allowing people to buy their way into heaven? Pay for their sins to be on the Heaven VIP list?”

Yes, exactly! We haven’t launched a program like this since we paired up with the Catholics, those people will pay anything to get into heaven.  However since the Heaven funds are so low, we decided to open up the opportunity to all religions. This time instead of calling it,  Catholic Guilt , we will call it, Invest and Be Saved!  We seem to think it resonates much better with capitalists these days.

Ok I guess? So, why are you asking me? I already have Catholic Guilt. Do I have that much to pay for already? I have only been alive like 25 years; it couldn’t be THAT bad.”

Well…I am not the sole judge of that but to give you a hint; you have been a total pain in the ass. Wouldn’t it be better to ensure your entry into heaven instead of wondering what actions might have disqualified you?”

“Yea, you have a point. I did just come into some money so how much investing must I do to be saved?”

In classic Finn fashion, he began to snap his fingers and sing … Madonna’s Like a Prayer.

When he got to the line, “I wanna take you there” he waited for me to jump in, but I let him know that I was never a fan of Glee duets. Ignoring my comment, he grabbed my hand and told me to close my eyes…

When I opened them, I found myself inside my old daycare’s living room. I spotted myself at 3 years old, sitting with a group of other children watching Barney, the purple dinosaur. Barney and gang were singing about personal hygiene and showing the group of children how to brush their teeth.

A little boy about the same age as me stood up in front of the TV to get everyone’s attention.

Hey cootie lovers, I dare one of you to put a booger on the TV. I bet you won’t. I bet you are too chicken.”

All the children sat quietly looking around, staring at who would be the brave one to volunteer first. Little Girl Ryan stood up quickly and shouted, “I’ll do it”.

Even at a young age, I could never turn down a dare.

Little Girl Ryan dug deep inside her nose picking out the most glorious, most green looking booger that any of the kids had ever witnessed. She marched over the television and smeared that sucker till it clouded the screen.

The group of kids belted out in laughter, applauding the event and causing enough commotion to attract the attention of the teacher.

“What’s going on in here?” yelled the burly teacher, “Who did THAT?” She pointed to the booger covered TV screen. “I’m only going to count to 3 and if nobody tells me who did that, you all are going in time out. 1…”

2…”

At 2 ½ that little bitch Cindy, who was 4 squeaked, “Ryan did it!”. Soon after her announcement, all the other  kids chimed in agreement.

This was the moment you learned to fend for yourself. It was this event that impacted the beginning of your sinful ways.” Finn’s words interrupted as I watched Little Girl Ryan being hauled off to the time out room…I remembered that moment but surely didn’t think it was significant enough to deny my entry into heaven.

Finn began snapping his fingers to the Glee-Madonna remake and nodded to me to close my eyes.…

This time when I opened my eyes, I found myself in my middle school gymnasium; all my friends from middle school were sitting Indian style on the floor excitedly waiting for an assembly to start. From the looks of it, I guessed it was a D.A.R.E lecture.

Thank you D.A.R.E for keeping ME Drug FREE!

Thank you D.A.R.E for keeping ME Drug FREE!

I scanned the crowd to find Middle school Girl Ryan and found her sitting next to a very small, petite brunette girl.  As I observed Middle school Girl Ryan, I saw that she and the brunette seemed to be very close friends. The way they chatted so animatedly was a sure sign of a close relationship.

The teachers began to shush all the students to alert them the assembly was about to begin. The crowds of chatter quickly ceased and a woman took to the stage, “Hello Central Middle School! So glad to have you all here! Today we are going to talk about D.A.R.E and how you can be an anti-drug user! Are you excited?!”

“Yes” the middle school students all chimed in unison.

But first, since today is the one year anniversary of 9/11, I’d like to have a brief moment of silence to honor those who were impacted and lost their lives.”

The lady bowed her head and the students on the floor followed her, except for one. Middle school Girl Ryan squirmed uncomfortably, shifting from side to side, crossing her legs then uncrossing her legs. When the crowd was completely silent, a loud fart erupted, disrupting the moment of silence. I glanced over at Middle school Girl Ryan whose face was bright red.

Almost immediately, all the children turned to Middle school Girl Ryan and looked in horror. Middle school Girl Ryan clearly knew she was caught so turned her head toward her brunette friend, placing all the blame on her. 

“I didn’t fart!” she announced to the entire crowd, “Ryan tell them! It wasn’t me!”

Middle school Girl Ryan stood up and said, “Gabby, own up to it, you farted!” All the kids gasped in disbelief and then into laughter.

A teacher ran over and grabbed Gabby pulling her out of the gymnasium. You could hear the teacher yelling at Gabby all the way down the hall, “You think that was funny?! How distasteful for a young lady to make such a disgusting disruption during a very important moment of silence. We will see what the principle has to say about this!”

I looked to Finn, “That was Gabby Grapeler. She was my best friend in middle school until that day. I blamed her for the fart during the 9/11 moment of silence. From that day the kids nicknamed her, Gassy Gabby. After graduation, she was so scarred by the ordeal she moved away and we never heard from her again. All that happened because of me.”

Indeed it did. You ruined that girl’s teenage years. You should have been the better person and admitted to farting. This moment is a pretty big factor in deciding your fate into heaven.”

Once again, he grabbed my hand, sang Madonna and off we went.

Finn brought me to a variety of past events…mainly from high school and college. The worst of which included…

…Streaking naked across campus while being chased by the campus police…Throwing up in a friend’s back pack at a house party…Taking a stranger’s pea coat from a bar…And leaving a bag of dog poop on my neighbor’s doorstep after he had asked me to pick up after my dog. On the bag was a handwritten message that said, “You Are Welcome”. (Finn said the handwritten note did not help the heaven situation.)

I shook my head in disbelief… I really didn’t think my actions throughout my life were all THAT bad.

Finn interrupted my thoughts, “Well, while you haven’t murdered anyone, you have committed some acts that directly resulted in emotionally hurting others… like poor Gassy Gabby.”

Ok, so what are you suggesting? I pay money to erase everything I have done?” I questioned.

Yes. I have already put together an invoice for you. I figured you would be convinced after seeing all your past indiscretions.” 

He handed me a piece of paper:

Invoice for That Girl Ryan’s Sins:

  1. $200,000 for Gassy Gabby Incident
  2. $200,000 for each sin committed during high school and college
  3. $50,000 for each alcohol over-indulgence
  4. $549,980 FSP

Total: $999, 980

“What is FSP?”

Future Sins Policy. It basically covers any minor sinful acts you commit during the remainder of your life after this day. You can think of them as life-long “freebies”. Examples of minor sinful acts include; Road rage, making fun of small people, making children cry and any bad joke you put into your blog (I threw in the last part myself-wink).”

“Well that leaves me exactly $20 from my entire lump sum” I stated.

“Yes, that is left so you can commit an act of kindness for someone on earth. Give knowledge to someone whose life will forever be benefited.”

“Ok, well take me home and I will write you a check.”

With a flash, Finn and I were back at my house. I wrote him the check and thanked him for his time tonight and for the Invest and Be Saved opportunity.

“Congrats That Girl Ryan, you’re not a bad person anymore! O, and before I leave, what are you going to do with that $20?”

“Well, I am going to the liquor store to buy a REAL pack of beer for a good friend of mine, Don at DonOfAllTrades. He thinks Bud Light Lime is the best beer out there but once he has a sip of some real beer, like Samuel Adams or Harpoon, I think his life will forever be changed for the better.”

“Well done, friend, well done.”

And like that, Finn from Glee took off with my million dollar check and guaranteed my entry into Heaven.

True Story.

Part of Finish The Sentence Friday! Check out all the blogs posted today.

The Cranky Christmas Bitch

6 Dec

Fuck. It’s Christmas time again.

So not happy

So not happy

I hate Christmas, I hate Christmas, I HATE CHRISTMAS.

While everyone is running around in excitement, counting down the days with advent calendars, I count down the days until its over.
The only two great things about Christmas are the free days off from work and reminding my kid about “Santa’s Good List” behavior.

Now you are sitting there like, “Omg this bitch! Who hates Christmas besides Satan and The Grinch?”

To answer that, the Jews, the crazy north Korean guy, Kim-Jong-a-something and ME. Most of the other people mentioned have a grudge against Jesus, but that’s only a speculation. I have my reasons, and good reasons why this holiday puts me in a bad way.

1. The Christmas Music. I have a strict, No Christmas Music Tolerance policy.  Apparently, my co-worker in the cube next to me missed the memo. I swear to god, if have to hear “Jingle Bell Rock”, one more time before December 23rd, I’m going to take a jingle bell and shove it up her Christmas-spirited ass.

2. Christmas Movies:I can’t handle sitting through any of the below…

This Red-Nosed Freak

 Listen Rudolph, your nose is like max, 60 watt, Santa ain’t getting anywhere with that dim crap.

tumblr_lwgudvfUYM1qddzljo1_500And that Elf, Hermey, needs to come out of the closet already…He’s a bigger flamer than Richard Simmons.

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These obnoxious fruit cakes.

jinglebellrock

I might hate this movie because I don’t have this outfit

And especially The Christmas Story…I know I’m in the minority on this one…

bunnybut if this kid would have shot both of his eyes with his BB gun, he could of saved us all by ending the movie an hour earlier.

However, I do freaking love this movie…

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3. The forgotten giftee: You have been there: you finished all your Christmas shopping and that one person who you didn’t buy for, hands you a gift. Not only is the situation awkward because you didn’t buy them anything, but now it’s clear, they like you more than you like them and THEY know it.  These silent gift-ers are rude catching you off guard like that, because they brought your relationship to a whole different level, the Christmas Gift-List level. Which is strictly reserved for family and close friends. This person just put themselves on that list without your agreement and now you are stuck buying them a birthday gift this year.

4. Décor: Between the endless amounts of dog hair and dust, I have more than enough to clean in my house. Now, when I purchase my Christmas tree this weekend, I gotta worry about the pine needles that fall off mixed in with dog hair and dust. My vacuum only has about one Christmas season left before it dies from hair and tree suffocation.

And the lights, what a pain those holiday lights are! Sure, they look pretty, but putting them up and taking them down are a bitch. Who has the time after Christmas to take them down right away? But let me remind you if you don’t take those things down by January 2nd, you are equally as dammed as not putting them up in the first place. Plus, even I, admitted Christmas hater, get depressed by the post-Christmas tree graveyards on the edge of the curbs…all those trees just waiting to be picked up by the trash man.

5. Christmas Cards: Ok, I might not totally despise this aspect of Christmas because it gives me enough entertainment to last the year. I love getting Christmas cards, especially the ones that come from weird family members with yearly card recaps…

Hey, I never call or write, but it’s Christmas time so I’m sending you this Christmas card to let you know we are DOING GREAT! Just look what our kids did this year…Johnny got his first blow-job at summer camp and participated on his high school football team. And our little girl Cindy isn’t so little anymore, she grew a pair of boobs and finished 7th out of 8th in her annual swim meet.

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to you and your family.

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Merry Christmas From The Walters!

Really, is this necessary? Save the stamps and post a Facebook status update next time, maybe I’ll “Like” it.

6. Work parties: After a long day at work, I just want to go home and be alone. Call me crazy, but I have no desire to stay after work and attempt to have non-work related conversations with work people; especially if it’s a non-alcohol event.

7. Wrapping presents: Wrapping is for talented people that spend their days on Pinterest. It takes a magician to wrap gifts. All my presents come out looking like they were thrown away and my presents always get judged on this factor; and for the record, I give stellar gifts. So why create the extra waste? If it was up to me, the presents would be placed in the same bag they were purchased in. period.

8. Christmas starts in October: Screw all of you who even mention the “C” word in October or November, especially YOU, Walmart and Target. Christmas needs to stay in December, where it belongs. All this hype for one day is nauseating.

9. The meaning of Christmas: Not to get too deep here, but the constant battle between putting “Christ” back in Christmas and the commercialized “Santa” ideology is exhausting. I’m not a religious person, but I can imagine as a parent it would be difficult to teach your children these Christmas religious values. Could you imagine if Jesus and Santa existed in the same time fame?  I could only assume Jesus would have given his mother an IPad Mini this year.

He said it best

He said it best

10. The words, “What do you want for Christmas”: The day after black Friday, I got an email  from a family member that read this:

“Please reply to this email with direct website links to what you want for Christmas. Coats, Boots, Jackets, Socks, etc.

I need it by E.O.D.”

I tried to understand the point of this message. Sure they wanted to know what I wanted, I get that, but what is the point of picking out my own presents?

Seriously, how would this work?

I would send you the links to my own Christmas presents that I researched… You would purchase them, wrap them up and send them to me in two weeks. Then I would UN-wrap the gift, even though I knew what it was and smile with joy. Should I act surprised? Should I jump for joy with excitement? Should I thank YOU for picking out the gift that I picked out?

Yes?

Then what is the point of that? Just stop asking me what I want for Christmas, you are putting me an awkward spot. Before I answer, there are a ton of factors to consider, like the cost or how acceptable it would be to ask for. Like for example, If I said I wanted a pound of Crack Cocaine and sent you the link to a drug dealers website, would you actually get me that for Christmas?

Million Dollar Question

Million Dollar Question

You know what I really want for Christmas? For it to go back to being simple…Christmas was fun as a kid because I had to make all my presents. I had no idea nor did I care the value of my gifts. What happened to that kind of Christmas?
Is it me or did it get eaten by Holiday advertising and Mariah Carey’s version of “All I want For Christmas is you”?

Until Christmas becomes simple again and grows my heart three sizes… a Cranky Bitch I will remain!

And not that I am counting, but Christmas is in 18 days…so bring it on, bring on the Christmas Cheer!…Ho! Ho! Ho!…Jingle Bells!…

Shoot me…

the-grinch

The Perks of Living at Home

4 Dec

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The word graduation can be a double edge sword. We live in a generation where we are always on the move, and God forbid for a second we push pause. I’m pretty sure we are convinced the earth will crack. I went through this phase last year to be exact. I thought I NEEDED to move out of my parents’ house ASAP. I remember looking at apartments with That Girl Ryan thinking it would be totally okay to live in a $900/month studio apartment in Morristown with uneven obnoxiously low ceilings and a half kitchen with no oven. This “apartment” was literally a small dumpster.apartment It would have been a death trap for anyone taller than 5’5” to visit. Ryan had to enter with a helmet. The entrance was a steep staircase, but it happened to be in the middle of the apartment. I could only imagine how many head injuries I would have received due to falling down or up the stairs after coming home from a fun night out on the town or from just being my clumsy self. YIKES!! The girl who I would replace slept on her mattress on the floor in a little nook in which sitting up was not an option. You would have to roll out of bed until you got into the middle of the apartment to stand up and even then the ceiling was still only 3 inches taller than me!!! I feel like there should have been directions on the wall kind of like a how to put out a fire…instead this would be how to get out of bed in the morning. The bathroom was actually on a slant— could you imagine putting on makeup in the morning? My equilibrium would constantly be off.  But it’s okay because this shit hole would have been all mine! To think I thought this apartment would have been the promised land…

WHAT THE FUCK WAS I THINKING?!?!?!?!!?!?!

I probably would have lasted about 3 weeks in there, and 2 would have been spent in a hospital due to falling down the stairs.

 

Although I know most of you think it is best to move out of your parent’s house ASAP, I wanted to make you aware of some “living at home” perks you might not have considered….they could change your mind.

 

1. The Fridge and Pantry are always magically full

Fully Stocked Refrigeratorpantry

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

2. Leftover Paradise

leftovers

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

3. They are constantly the life of the party

steve

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

4. Fully Stocked Laundry Room

laundry room

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

5. SO MANY KITCHEN GADGETS

Kitchen-gadgets

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

6. FREE WIFI

free wifi

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

7. Reliable Handy Man

dad

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

8. Dishes?!?

dishes

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

9. Endless Supply of Toilet Paper

toilet paper

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

10. Andrea

CleaningLady

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

11. RENT FREE 

rent free

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

12. They are morally obligated to like you

they love me

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Now I know all of these come across as me being a spoiled brat but in all reality I have been taken off the payroll as Burt and the Boss call it very quickly after graduation. But I cannot thank them enough for actually letting me stay under their roof because without them I would probably be living in that midget apartment. Besides…I have come to realize that these people are actually pretty cool after all. So, to all my upcoming college grads out there…don‘t rush moving out if you can wait. I promise it will all be worth it in the end.

What happens at the Cove, Stays at the Cove.

27 Nov

photo 1 (2)My husband works for a company that hosts incentive trips throughout the year and we have been fortunate enough to attend majority of them.

This past summer was a free trip to Nieves, an island that nobody has ever heard of. I don’t remember much, but I credit that to the island’s signature “Killer Bee” cocktail. The drink tastes so good, but when you least expect it; it stings you!

Then last summer, we went to Aruba, the happiest island in the Caribbean. Why is it the happiest island you ask? Because nobody in Aruba has a real job and therefore is happy.

All those islands were great and all, but my favorite trips have always been the fall vacation to the Bahamas. Not for the location but for the crazy shit that goes down at this place…and this year did not disappoint.

Getting to the Bahamas takes about 2 1/2 hours via plane which has become one of my newest phobias in life.

Such a tiny plane

Such a tiny plane

Ever since a particular nail-biting flight; getting myself on a plane is a bitch. It’s actually gotten so bad that for my flight to the Bahamas this year, I decided to drug myself.

Drug of choice; Dramamine.

photo 3

#NoMakeup

Dramamine is a motion sickness medication, but it makes you loopy as hell so I gave it go.

Boy Ryan tried to convince me that if he distracted me the entire flight I wouldn’t need the medication.

But that turned out to be a total fail ten minutes in….

photo 1 (3)I am so distracted by watching you sleep; what a brilliant idea!

Anyways, the Dramamine did its work and I spent the entire flight writing down all the questions I have about random things (more on this to come) and taking selfies of my face because I was convinced the Dramamine made it look distorted…and I refuse to share those pictures with you all.

When we arrived in the Bahamas and pulled up to The Cove, a very “exclusive” part of the Atlantis Resort. I was honestly floored by the hotel luxuries. Full balconies, a spacious lower living room, a hairdryer and 2 fully stocked mini-bars.

Um, YES.

My Room view

My Room view

As I laid down on the bed to recover from my Dramamine high, I heard the familiar tone Boy Ryan says on every single vacation; “O Shit”.

“O Shit” (said in a high to low pitch) means that Boy Ryan forgot something; as he does every trip we attend. One year he forgot his wallet in airport security. The year before that he left his contacts in a hotel room. The year before that he mistakenly overlooked packing any clean underwear for a two week trip.

So what could it possibly be this time?

“Hun…I forgot my bathing suit.”

Ah yes, the bathing suit. The man packs for a tropical island surrounded by water, pools and beaches and forgets the most necessary item of clothing. Typically Boy Ryan.

So we spent the first day walking around Atlantis in search for a bathing suit. We found one for a “steal” at $80…ugh.

Let me just state for the record, Atlantis is not cheap.

Which is why on the first night, I was more than happy to attend a work event where free food and free drinks were in unlimited supply for the night.

It was at a restaurant called the One and Only Ocean Club.Truly a gorgeous scene; if anyone is looking for destination wedding venues, definitely put this on the list.

The event was held in a garden area with a ton of naked men statues. I know that sounds weird, but they were probably the highlight of all the conversations I had that night.

Work events are always a bit awkward so conversation topics tend to focus on the scenery, food and service quality.

Topic of conversation

Topic of conversation

However, I will make a note about something I noticed regarding Men and any Caribbean island…

Why do men think wearing linen pants are OK on an island?

Can we just dive into this a minute?

  1. Linen pants are very difficult to pull off for most men.
  2. Most men do not wear linen pants appropriately. The sizes are always too small and the pants are always too wrinkled.
  3. When #1 and #2 are in full force you know what happens? Men get linen-pant camel toes.

Just from this short visit to the Caribbean, I’ve had enough Linen-Pant Camel Toes to last me a century.

Attention women: Good wives don’t let good husbands wear linen pants.

**Please wear responsibly **

Unless you are this man, you can not wear linen pants.

Unless you are this man, you can not wear linen pants.

Anyways, I drank way too much at that event- probably because I wanted to forget every male camel toe I had just seen– and spent the rest of the night in the Casino playing craps. By playing craps I mean rolling the dice for the craps players.

I have never been a fan of Casinos, but the Atlantis casino has a really great set-up. Between the sports betting area, slot machines and an everlasting flow of free drinks, I give it two thumbs up!

Taking pictures at a casino is illegal, I'm a total badass.

Taking pictures at a casino is illegal, I’m a total badass.

The second day for me was a wash; too many male camel toes and vodka tonics left me a hungover mess. There aren’t enough adjectives to describe the color of vomit that came out of me that day.

Sleep+Sun+Pool=cure

Sleep+Sun+Pool=cure

I’m just thankful it didn’t last long enough for my date with Flipper.

Yes, me and flipper had an amazing date at his place in Dolphins Cay.

At Dolphins Cay, you actually get in the water with dolphins. You can touch them, swim with them and even feed them. I highly recommend you go if you ever visit the Bahamas…even if it’s just to touch the dolphins. Touching a dolphin feels like you are groping a 400lb man in a wetsuit, very amusing to say the least.

The professional pictures taken were like $40,  so i’m too cheap to have purchased any to show you all, but I did try and catch some video to share.

The rest of the trip was a lot of the same; drinking too much, gambling, eating at a famous restaurant called NoBu? Which according to Boy Ryan should be named; No Food. We were still so hungry that after we ate, we went out to eat.

I only recommend this restaurant for aspiring anorexics.

But the last thing I wanted to share with you all is about my experience at The Cove private pool party.

photo 4 (3)

Cove tagline: “Live Your Life”

Things that happen at the Cove pool;

  • People show boob-age; whether they intend to or not
  • People make out wherever they feel like it; group make-outs are also encouraged
  • Rich Ugly Old men hang out with younger, attractive females
  • Sexual Dancing; both good and bad
  • Sex in the bathroom-yes I said sex in the PUBLIC bathroom
  • Patron being poured onto body parts and licked off
  • $7,000 drink bills

Here is how I sum up the party at The Cove pool;it’s a 6-8 hour long orgy every day, any day. Including Sundays! The orgy happens AFTER Sunday Church!

Over a 4 hour period I saw the pool party scene go from classy-cool to drunken-mess fest.

Although I wasn’t cool enough to partake in the festivities, I did capture these Cove party animals in their natural habitat for you all to see:

photo 5

See the younger women relaxing by the watering hole; calm, cool and collective…observation 2pm

photo 4

Watering hole begins to get crowded. More adult beverages are consumed. Animals begin to move around…observation 3:30pm

photo 2 (4)

Fat rich man begins to make his way over to younger attractive girls. He flashes them $100 bills and offers drinks. Young girls take bait….Observation 4:00pm

photo 3 (4)

Younger female begins to stand on chair and dance for fatter man in the pool. Her judgement is off, but she continues to entertain for another round of free drinks…observation 5:00pm

photo 1 (4)Total debauchery ensues. Dancing takes place. Group make-outs and “motor boating” are also observed.  Debauchery doesn’t slow down until well into the early evening….observation 7pm.

If you like a hard-core party scene, resort lifestyle and commercialized experience, then I highly recommend you visit the Atlantis resort. If you’re not entertained by the water slides, casinos, variety of restaurants or dolphins, you will be at the Cove. You might even be cool enough to hang out with the party animals!

Just remember one thing: DO NOT WEAR LINEN PANTS!

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!

Meet My Publicist

14 Nov

Everyone, meet Danielle, my publicist. I’ve referenced her before in my posts and now you get the pleasure of meeting her. Danielle is my humor buddy, we discuss incredibly important topics like Pooping in Public, Waxing and Ryan Gosling.

I bribed her into writing some guest blogs on That Girl Ryan. This could be the start of a beautiful thing…

************************************************************************************************

Well hello That Girl Ryan followers!!

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First I would like to say how awesome it is to be given the privilege to be a guest blogger on That Girl Ryan today. I have been told that if I do a good job, I may be hanging around a little while. Let’s cut to the chase before I lose followers for her.

My name is Danielle or as That Girl Ryan calls me, “The Publicist”. Who do you think helps Ryan put these awesome posts together?? She has been pestering me to introduce myself to her blog world for quite some time now…I mean I did come up with the title for her blog. You people are lucky for that, she was trying to get all philosophical and name her blog about life and lemons or some stupid crap like that, so you’re welcome.

Ryan and I have known each other since we were 14 years old, and then she got all cool and I became an emo and that would have never worked out well in high school. We re-kindled our friendship this past year during our short stint as media sales reps.

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Now back to me…..

I did the whole college thing; took me five years but hey, I am a proud supporter of the 5 year plan! I mean I turned out just fine according to my roommates. I call my roommates; The Boss and Burt Reynolds (aka my mom and dad). For the past 24 years, I have been leeching life’s secrets off these people- and money and food. You will hear me mention life with The Roomies IF That Girl Ryan lets me come back.

338344_1528250449788_739828469_o (1)

I’m what you can consider a walking exclamation point! I never grasped the concept of inside voices at a young age. I am loud and so is my laugh; I’m just always happy to be wherever I am. One of my talents is speed texting, I can out text any 16 year old any day of the week. BRING IT, I DARE YOU!

Being that That Girl Ryan is wifed up and is the mother to Queen A, as I call her; she sometimes loses touch with what it’s like to be young and free-like me. Don’t worry everyone I promise I won’t disappoint; I’m brutally honest and have the humor of a teenage boy. Relax, I know how to keep it classy. I look forward to telling you all about terrible first dates, life as a 20 something and just the shit you wish you could say out loud. Until next time….BAI!

The Reflection

30 Oct
Growing up is about eating nasty shit.

Growing up is about eating nasty shit.

Does the number 25 mean anything to you, today? To me it means, I’m officially 25.

Yep, its my fucking birthday.

Happy birthday to me.

Did you remember to write on my FB wall, send me an E-card AND shoot a quick text to my phone? Well, here is your chance to do so without me thinking you forgot.

This is the first year that I haven’t looked forward to my birthday. Granted, the last two birthdays weren’t the best. Mother Nature decided to shit on the entire East Coast with some pretty hefty super storms. I was expecting some kind of monstrosity this year but nothing yet. Forecast looks stellar so far. I wouldn’t be surprised if an asteroid hit the earth in a couple of hours though, we shall see.

As a teenager, imagining myself at 25, I had some goals I expected to accomplish. Not all of my bucket-list items are checked off but for the most part, I guess I got pretty close. I’m employed, I am happy, I am decently fit and decently good looking. That’s most of them right there. I am also married with a kid, that’s definitely something I never factored in, so we shall consider these events as cherries on the 25 year old cake.

Something about turning 25 frightens me. Perhaps it’s the fact that I am officially in my mid-twenties or that I am half way to the age of 50…both are pretty intimidating.

I guess 25 also means that my metabolism will slow down, I should expect grey hair in 2-3 years and I am no longer in the 18-24 demographic.

But here is some exciting news..now I can rent a car!I think I will just head on over to Enterprise and rent the entire fleet. WOW, life is great.

Nah, still not feeling the 25 age.

I have done a lot of reflecting this week on the past three years…they have been such a crazy roller coaster for me personally and I am amazed as to how far I have matured. Like the fact that I don’t feel the need to drink as heavily as I used for every event that requires drinking (my vomit-free toilet and drunk babysitter-husband are very pleased about that). Assessing the pain of being hungover to 3-4 more drinks actually happens now.

Way to go maturity, way to go!

But with maturity comes great…fear. Like the fear of realizing you can die at any moment. I don’t mean to get all dark on you, but I am now scared of things that never crossed my mind during the ages of 16-23. A couple of years ago, I was thrilled by the thought of wreck-less driving, jumping out of airplanes and leaving my house unlocked. Now, I’m practically an agoraphobic. When I fly on a plane, I think its going to crash or when I drive on a bridge, I’m convinced it’s going to collapse. Hell, I can’t even turn on the oven without considering the possibilities of an explosion.

Do you ever wake up in the middle of the night convinced a mass murderer broke into your house and is hiding in your attic ready to strike while you sleep? Or that you will spontaneously burst into flames watching TV? I do, all the time. Space junk could land on me at any moment and yet I spent my younger years being reckless. It’s a surprise I have stayed alive this long.

Anyways, the point is, I have seen some changes in myself over the past few years; some good, some bad.

I look back on to my 21st birthday which should have been spent drinking my head off, but instead, I was 6 months pregnant, planning a wedding while in college. Or my 22nd and 23rd birthday when I was a newlywed, juggling work, college homework and an infant. On each of my birthdays, I had so much going on that I never took a moment to be grateful. Instead I resented that fact that I had to be so grown up during the years of my life when it shouldn’t have been expected of me. I just accepted that life happened without really understanding what a great gift I had been given.

On my 24th birthday last year, I decided that I needed to do something to re-invent myself; I was tired of being angry and resentful for the past 3 years of my life. It was time for me to do something for me, not because it was expected or responsible, but because I enjoyed doing it. I wanted to finally be able to do something that would change the way I looked at life.

And the best idea I could come up with was this blog.

As funny and pathetic as that may sound, trust me, it has been one of my better ideas.

On this day last year, That Girl Ryan, the blog, was born and what an eye opener it has been….

It’s not the fact that I just write whatever the hell comes to my head…this blog is so many things to me because all the people like YOU, who read it.  You are the driving motivator behind this blog. Your laughter, your emails, your comments keep me writing about things nobody will talk about.

You bring out the voice that makes you giggle, the voice that says exactly what you won’t, the voice that refuses to be susshed and dismissed. YOU are all, That Girl Ryan.

So as I reflect on my birthday today, I just want to say, THANK YOU!

Thank you for reading. Thank you for laughing. Thank you for helping me grow.

This past year has been one of my best and I have all you to thank for that.

25 will be a great year,  unless of course I get murdered by the psychopath hidden in my attic.

Happy birthday to Me, Happy Birthday to That Girl Ryan.

What else do you need in life?

What else do you need in life?

What to expect when you’re expecting

24 Oct

Why is everyone pregnant all of a sudden? Everywhere I turn I see a sea of bulging bellies and waddling women. Is there a nation-wide pregnancy pact going on that I don’t know about? If I find out there is, I’ll be pissed. Where were all you pregnant ladies when I was the lonely knocked up girl three years ago? I could have used a “Bun in the Oven” buddy. Thanks a lot you bitches.

Have you gotten the latest copy of, “What to Expect When You’re Expecting?”…throw that shit out of the window. It’s useless information that you can easily learn from your mother. That book doesn’t cover vital topics, topics that are actually worth  learning about.

They say we all have secrets, but pregnant women have a lot more…when your growing a human, things can get weird.

Like this belly

Kim Kardashian don't got nothing on this booty

Kim Kardashian don’t got nothing on this booty

1. You Crave Strange Things

Not things like mayo and pickles or potato chips and orange juice; in-edible objects and materials.

I had a particular wanting for textured items…like cat litter. Yes, I craved cat litter. The smell, the look, the way in emptied into the litter box. I would imagine cupping a hand full out, throwing into my mouth like it was granola. Long story short, I gave into my temptation once and the cat litter was anything but delicious and crunchy. Surprise. Surprise. But your pregnant mind will do evil things to you.

I highly recommend this brand

I highly recommend this brand

2. Natural Birth Are For Super Humans

I don’t know who thought giving birth in a bath tub or bouncing on a ball during labor would make a natural birth easier, but I think these people most likely take acid on a daily basis. I’ve had the honor of meeting a couple of women who did naturally give birth and I think they have some incredible powers.

I had a moment during labor (probably an evil mind lapse) that made me want to try and do everything naturally. Not because it was healthier for the baby or my body or whatever they say these days, but so I could say, Hell yes, I did that.

I completely underestimated labor-pains.

Imagine someone pulling your pelvis in two directions and being stabbed in your gut all at the same time. That’s what it feels like. Labor was no big deal until about 2 hours in when you start to ask for the epidural or for death.

I also made my husband take a picture, as a reminder. A reminder that natural births are incredibly overrated.

That is not a fat suit, that is just me.

That is not a fat suit, that is just me.

3. No Story You Will Ever Tell is As Good As Your Birthing Story

Have you ever met someone who shared their birth story about 5 minutes into meeting them? Happened all the time when I was pregnant. I heard each and every moment from the dilation of centimeter 1 to centimeter 10. Usually the climax of the story came when they pushed out the baby.

“And then, I pushed and pushed…Pushed so damn hard I pooped on the nurse! But after 3 hours of pushing, Little Johnny popped out! His head was so big, the doctors gave me fifteen stitches! Johnny’s father sure doesn’t mind though, wink”.

Thanks, for the info lady!

My advice to expecting mothers… find friends that had C-sections.

4. Babies Are Ugly

Ew.

I’m thinking of my kid when she came out. The nurse propped her on my chest and I started to cry.  My kid looked like a cross between the Indian guy at the gas down the street and my Great Uncle. She was purple and blue and had bigger lips  than Fat Albert. I’m sure my husband had a moment when he doubted the fact that this creature was HIS kid, hell I even doubted it; the way she came out I would have believed I was raped by an alien.

I remember my mom posted a facebook picture immediately after she came out; poor kid still had goo all over her face. I had no idea until I saw all the comments from my facebook friends saying, “She is so beautiful!“. Look I’m not retarded, I know its socially polite to say Newborns are “Gorgeous”.

I mean, I have yet to see anyone comment, “O My GOD! what IS THAT?“. You people arn’t fooling anyone, us mom’s with ugly newborns, are well aware that our kids are ugly.

Case in Point:

I was scared for this kid's future

I was scared for this kid’s future

And then this…

100% sure from this picture, she would never get married

100% sure from this picture, she would never get married

Eventually she fluffed out and got really cute. She still is to this day.

Phew…that was a close call:

This Baby Mama don't make ugly babies

This Baby Mama don’t make ugly babies

5. Leaky Nipples

Breast feeding or not, your girls turn into leaky faucets. When I left the hospital they gave me these bra pads, but I thought I didn’t need them because I had no intention of boob feeding my kid.

Then one day, my boobs decided to have a wet t-shirt contest in the middle of English Lit 101. It dawned on me that nipple pads are very necessary.

As if my stigma of being a pregnant college girl wasn’t enough, the two wet spots located on my boobs buried any chance of social redemption that I had left.

All I have to say is, thank god for the Mary Katherine Gallagher pose! Not only does it allow you to check your armpit sweat, but it also covers your leaky nipples…SUPERSTAR!

superstar_molly_shannon

6. People Ask You The Most Retarded Questions

There is such thing as asking a dumb question, I’ve heard them…

How did your get your body back to normal?

I’m not sure, my body just deflated. However, I’m sure my vagina would argue the definition of “Normal”.

OR
(Horrified face)
If you’re back at work, where does the baby go during the day?!
Great question! Hmm well some days I lock my kid in a closet, throw Cheerios on the floor and pray she doesn’t crap her pants. Works like a charm!
At what point in our human evolution do we stop being so stupid? It’s called Daycare and it’s mans best invention.
7. You see a new side of your significant other.
I love when I hear expecting mothers say, “I don’t care what gender I’m having as long as it’s healthy”.
That is a lie.
Every woman secretly wishes for a certain gender. Me…I wanted a boy.
When I found out I was having a girl, I was pissed…I grew up with all girls; two sisters, multiple female cousins and 7+ aunts…enough estrogen to last me a lifetime.
Plus, I married a “Mans-Man”.
He has always been awkward and quiet around girls. Lucky for him when we dated in college, I thoroughly enjoyed my vodka and didn’t notice his strange behavior around women.
So obviously, I was a bit worried he wouldn’t have any type of bond with our daughter.
I was completely wrong.
Who knew my “Manly man” could play barbies and tie pony tails in ways I couldn’t imagine. It’s adorable.
From this:
100_0133
To this:
100_0475
8. Sleep leaves you…forever
As a mother-to-be, sleep gets harder. Imagine sleeping with a basketball underneath you, its impossible. They say lack of sleep helps you prepare for a newborn, but I think that’s crap. It prepares you for the rest of your, no-sleep life. Even after that screaming, no toothed infant sleeps through the night, as a mother you never sleep again. Every peep, every missed breath,every creek in your house awakes you. I used to be able to sleep through it all but now if my kid farts in the other room, I wake up.
On a positive note, 3am tends to be a very lively time; not only are the drunks just returning from the bar, but a ton of mothers like myself, can be found playing Words With Friends.
I guess it’s not so bad.
I miss those days...

I miss those days…

9. Adult Diapers Suddenly Make Sense
During labor, you can shit on the table and not even know it. Your numb from the drugs so you can’t feel yourself poop, but the nurse and your partner sure do. Talk about the type of blackmail they can forever hold over your head. Not only that, but it makes you wonder about which celebrities might have shit during labor.
Personally, I would really like to know if Duchess Kate slipped out a turd while giving birth to the new prince. Now that is News-worthy.
I know, now your like, “Who cares about the labor pains when you have to worry about shitting during birth!”
Trust me, it’s not as bad as the threat of peeing your pants 24/7.  I’ve talked about this before, but I literally can’t get over how much my bladder sucks, post-pregnancy. Activities such as; jumping on a trampoline, jumping jacks and hopping on one leg (basically jumping) can quickly go from a “Great Exercise” to “Holy shit, I just peed myself.
Even the simplest conundrums in life can turn into a wet-yourself-disaster, like coughing or sneezing. I have found the best way to avoid peeing your pants when this happens is to cross your legs and hope for the best.
I used to sneeze like this:
No Big Deal, just a sneeze

No Big Deal, just a sneeze

Now I have to sneeze like this:
Holy Shit, I just peed

Holy Shit, I just peed

Ah yes, pregnancy is weird and disastrous all at the same time, but when you push that little or big human out, the fun only begins. Just wait until that little person turns into a toddler.
Good luck to all of you who plan to embark on this journey, I hope your bellies swell and your births are full of epidurals.
Happy Birthing!

A Message to 20 Somethings From a 20 Something

9 Oct

unico

Do you envision a successful future, similar to the one captured above? Do you consider yourself special compared to other people? Do you want to be someone amazing?

Yes?

Then you are probably a 20 something.

I’m sure we have all heard the bitching that goes on about Generation Y. Lazy, unrealistic and overly hopeful are usually the chosen adjectives when describing this eclectic group of individuals. But who could blame us? We don’t know where we are going in life and we’re fresh out of college, trying to move out of Mom and Dad’s house…I totally get it. Our life is hard and a lot of work.

Let’s not even discuss work. Most of us are coffee runners for hot shots in the big cities. We excel at making copies, setting up calendar invites and stapling together presentations. And what would a company be without the person who knows to how staple projects together; the whole thing would go to shit with loose papers flying everywhere.

To us, it sucks, no body gets a college degree to make copies, yet we continue these jobs to receive, brighter, bigger promotions in the future.

According to the “Old” generations (and yes, I’m calling you people old), we aren’t patient enough and expect promotions immediately. We leave our jobs if we don’t like them and make careers into blogging and posting YouTube videos.

Pathetic, the “Old” crowd says.

And while I don’t necessarily agree with the “Old” generations, I have to say I get where they are coming from. But is it really our fault? Weren’t we raised and mentored by these old people?

 I am different, I am special and I am going to be somebody. My parents, my teachers, my coaches and that purple dinosaur BARNEY always led me to believe this. So why is it when I get into the real world, this same “Old” generation now giggles at my aspirations to be a CEO at 35? The “Old” generation made me and my peers into what we are today; ambitious dreamers looking always looking for the better opportunity.

Nevertheless, I decided to understand the other side of the argument; a way to punch holes in the “Lazy Generation Y” theory. This is how I discovered a select group of individuals who I believe are living in a 20 something fantasy world.

Discovering this not only evoked irritation and made me feel shameful for being among this age group, but also gave me some great material for my first (and probably last) video blog. Feelings this strong, could only be accurately portrayed in the form of a video.

The discovery came when I was perusing Facebook one day. A viral fiasco broke out and of course I needed to investigate the drama myself. A particular blogger (who I won’t say) wrote a post about being a 20 something. She said ludicrous, outlandish and purely naive statements that made my mouth drop to the floor. Of course I would have let the whole thing go if she didn’t happen to draw the attention of other stupid 20 somethings.  90 comments posted on her blog solidified my theory that there are indeed 20 somethings who are a total embarrassment to the rest of us. These are the people who live life in a fairy tale, riding off into rainbows accompanied by Unicorns.

I almost vomited by the out-pouring of comments that read, “You totally understand what I think about on a daily basis”.

Long story short, I created a video blog to share specific parts of the “20 somethings” blog I wasted five minutes of my life on. Of course, I have included my comments and reactions to her pathetic thoughts.

DISCLAIMER: That Girl Ryan is clearly not a movie producer or creator…this will not win an Oscar nor will it be seen as professional video….I am well aware of this.

What have we learned from this?

GENERATION Y’s, specifically the 20’s somethings are not all idiots. Some of us actually have a brain with a mind and will certainly end up being intelligent, contributing members of society. Sure, we may all ride on an Unicorn from time to time  but have no doubt, not all of us are total ass wipes.

And to the “20 something” blogger who decided to broadcast your stupidity to other stupid “20 somethings”…

This is not Disney World and you are not fucking Cinderella…please grow a pair and dis-mount your Unicorn. It’s about time you get with the program.

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