Tag Archives: Girl

The Date Ditcher

21 Oct

It happened. It happened to me. I never thought it would.

But how?! Was it my text? The way I responded? Maybe I seemed too over-eager to meet up.  I tend to get a little excited about new relationships.

This was my first time, I thought I did everything right. We met at a party and hit it off right away. We kept in touch every now and again and exchanged facebook friend requests. Then one night, after finding the courage in 3 glasses of wine, I sent a text asking to meet up and it worked! We set a date and time and double confirmed the details. The day came and I could barely contain my excitement. I showered, shaved and even put on my new fall booties. I anxiously awaited by the door as the time neared closer to the hour you said you were arriving but you never came. You never showed up. You never rescheduled. You never even cancelled!

Yes, I got stood up…on a date… on a play date.

I normally don’t do play dates. The thought of sitting in a stranger’s house while our kids play and leave us to small chit chat is excruciating. Especially when there is no wine involved. I went with my daughter to one birthday party/ play date and it was probably the worst thing ever. I’m not sure which was more painful, the fact that each and every kid at the party had a melt down or that people assumed I was the 18 year old babysitter hired to help.

Yea, play dates aren’t really my thing.

But they almost were…last year at a party, I met a girl that I had gone to high school with. I found out she had a son who is close in age with my daughter and immediately we hit it off.  By the end of the night, we had decided we should get together; the kids could run themselves tired while we drank wine and complained about them running wild.

It sounded like a dream play date come true.

Basically, I tend to get really overly excited when I meet new people. I am that over-eager friend. When you say, “we should get together soon” I respond with, “how about tomorrow”? Yea, I’m one of those people. Making friends out of college is a tough task. You no longer have drinking buddies or Sunday brunch besties. As you each begin to start new jobs and get married, you are lucky if you keep 2-3 friends from college. Sure, you can make work friends but all you really have in common is work and all you probably do is bitch about your boss. So to say that I was a tad excited for this meet up is a bit of an understatement. For this play date I went out and bought a cheese spread…Yes, A MOTHER FUCKING CHEESE SPREAD.

This was serious.

Our guests were to arrive at 2pm and confirmed earlier that morning we were still on. I did some last minute cleaning, brushed my dogs so they were less smelly then before and sat patiently on the couch awaiting their arrival….

DateDitcher

2:00 ….Ok, it’s time! I’m sure they will be here any minute now.

2:15….silly me, nobody arrives right on time, she is probably just being fashionably late. 

2:30….Maybe they stopped to pick up some desserts. 

2:35….They must have hit a detour in the road

2:40…I hope they arn’t dead

2:45…They are definitely dead

2: 50…I’ll send a text

TextHey! Are you guys on your way?!

3:00…No response

3:15…Ok, Seriously this is rude, the cheese is melting 

3:20...I’ll start an episode of Scandal while I’m waiting

3: 30…Shit, I ate all of the cheese 

4:00…Fuck it, I’m changing out of my bra and watching NetFlix

4:30…Drank entire bottle of wine and fell asleep

Can you believe I never received a response or cancellation from this girl?

Look, when a man stands you up on a date it’s expected because men are douche bags, but women, women know to cancel plans. They either reschedule or come up with a half believable excuse as to why they can’t make it. This girl straight up just went missing in action. I even kept an eye on the news in case I heard about a mother and son that were taken hostage!

For two days I had no idea what happened or if this girl was even still alive. Lucky for me, the world is small and I found out she planned a birthday party for her son the same day as our play date was scheduled.

jon-stewart-confused-what

Ok? Weird? Maybe she forgot about the birthday party?  Some people might forget a planned birthday party for their kid…right? But still, shoot me a simple text like, HEY-gotta reschedule, totes forgot my kid’s birthday party is today!

WHAT IS THAT? Why are people so damn weird?! I got a cheese spread for crying out loud! 

At least Addison sees right through the bullshit. When I asked about her thoughts on being ditched on her first play date, this is what she said,

This whole situation is awkward and so is that kid’s mom.”

Well said.

She Got It From Her Mama

9 May

Re-Posting this from last year, it’s too priceless not to share again!

Enjoy Mother’s day Weekend Everyone!

 

If you haven’t gotten your mother anything by this point in time, its too late. Running to CVS to buy a last minute bath set is TOO obvious. You might as well make a card and write a nice poem, mothers always seem to enjoy that.

Available at your local CVS Store

Available at your local CVS Store

Although, if my daughter grows up and writes me a poem for a gift, I might be offended. Let’s see- I pushed you out , stayed up many nights with you while you threw up, shit, and drooled all over me and all you can write is a poem? Yea, maybe that’s not the best idea, stick with the CVS bath-set.

Anyways, id thought this year I’d do something special different for my mom.

She has been tip-toeing around me, on her best behavior for fear that my next blog post would be about her and her darkest secrets…

Well mom, the wait is over, NOW is YOUR moment!

momaddy

Let me just say, my mom is an amazing woman. She is the best person I know and I wouldn’t be me without her. She has taught me to be strong, motivated and to never apologize for being myself. She has also been my best friend since the age of 20 (because during the teen years, your supposed to hate your mom).

That being said, Ive learned a lot from my mother and there are some things I think are worth sharing.

1. Saturdays are for cleaning

In school Fridays were never about Pizza Day or the day before the weekend. Fridays for me were The day before cleaning day. Saturday was ALWAYS cleaning day. If the apocalypse hits on a Friday, your still shit out of luck because your ass is getting up at 7am on Saturday and cleaning. When we finally got a cleaning lady I thought all my chore problems would go away but no, Saturdays became the day to clean before the cleaning lady.

2. Girls Always Wipe From Front to Back

I’ve always wondered why? No idea, but it might have something to do with my vagina. 24 years and counting of Yeast infection sobriety. Thanks mom.

3. Fashionably late never exists

My mother shows up everywhere 30 minutes early. Know those people in your life that you show up late to EVERYTHING. Like you send them a different party invite with the start time earlier than it is? Well my mom is the opposite. She is the person you change the invitation to say 30 minutes later…

4. Never shave the tops of your legs

I listened to this advice till about 8th grade. Then one day I wore shorts and I was deemed “Hairy Tops”. I never got why she thought you shouldn’t shave the tops of your legs, until I noticed the tops of her legs aren’t the only thing she skips out on shaving. Now, I understand.

5. Photogenic ability is a gift, not a right and sometimes my mom just doesn’t have it…

Like this…

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Or This…

Resemblance?

Resemblance?

And Finally This…

Well nobody looks good in this one.

Well nobody looks good in this one.

6. Once you go black, you never go back

This was in reference to a white girl dating a black guy. I always assumed it was negative. Then I started hearing the rumor that black guys got big “Disco Sticks”. Now I’m starting to see the truth. Once you have had black, there Aint NO REASON to go back to white. You Go Mama-O

7. Never put a TV in your bedroom, it’s unproductive

According to Mama-O, the bedroom is for sleeping and “something else”. The minute I moved out, I put a TV in my bedroom and realized that watching TV in bed while doing “something else” is multitasking.

Speaking of “Something Else” that reminds me:

8. The “Sex Conversation” doesn’t have to be a conversation at all

When I learned what sex was at the age of 7, I went home, disturbed, and ask my mother

“I learned about sex today…you and dad don’t do that do you?”

“Yes we do and you should feel lucky that your parents still have sex very regularly after this many years of marriage”

-END CONVERSATION-

9. She Puts All Hand Talkers to Shame

10. You Can Run, But You Can’t Hide

I remember a day when my mom owned that ugly box 90’s van, light blue to be exact. My sister and I ran away from home, I was 7, Sam was 2. We packed our barbies in a suitcase and planned to skip town. We made it to the local playground and hid out. After about an hour (Yea, it took an hour for her to notice her bundles of joy were missing)I see my mother’s van speeding up and down the street like a mad woman. By the way she was driving, she was mad-I mean pissed off- gunna kick my ass -mad. She found us partly because it was dinner time and I was hungry and because two blondes hiding in a slide were a dead give-away.

When you saw this, it was all over

When you saw this, it was all over

11. No dinner table conversation is off limits

My family has the most inappropriate dinner conversations. Some topics have included; how big my sisters poop was, the importance of using condoms. But the one that takes the cake; My mother bragging that my father didn’t need Viagra at the age of 49 in which my youngest sister replied, “What’s Viagra?”

More Sausages anyone?

12. Punishments get easier with sibling order

My sister and I grew up during a time when spanking was still OK. It was never considered child abuse. We would stuff towels in our pants before we knew we were going to get spank to ease the hand of my parents. Our little tactic worked well until my sister started laughing hysterically while she was getting spanked-mom caught on real quick.

Now I see my youngest sister get punished and there is no spanking, not even a threat of spanking. Her punishment is “Go to your room and play your with your kindle-your punished” I was definitely born in the wrong order.

13. You will always be responsible for raising your male spouse

This is so true and I wished I listened to this piece of advice a little more. Not only do I have remind my husband to change his underwear, but I also have to shop for his outfits and teach him how to chop onions. Step it up Boy-Mothers, your children are killing us women.

14. There are two types of people in this world, those who are Chowns and those who want to be Chowns

Chown is my mother’s maiden name. I always thought this saying meant Chown women were long legged, tall and have gorgeous million dollar smiles. But recently, my sisters boyfriend clued me into what this REALLY means. When my sister asked him:

“What do us “O” girls have in common with our mom”

To which her boyfriend replied:

“Everything. Your boobs, you all have nice boobies”

AND That is what it means to be a Chown or want to be a Chown- It’s all in the Boobs.

15. White Girls Can Dance

16. Love is a Choice

The best and last thing I have learned from my mother is that Love is a Choice. You don’t fall in love, you choose to love and this piece of advice I TRY to live by everyday. There are some days that this choice is difficult and days that it is impossible, but I wake up each day choosing to love not only my spouse, but everything and everyone around me.

Mom, I hope you can choose to love me after this blog post.

Happy Mother’s Day everyone!

girlsqd

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/05/12/daily-prompt-mom/

A Letter From Your Mother

8 May

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To the little girl who calls me mother,

I wanted to write you a letter this Mother’s Day because you are the reason I am being celebrated for my MILF status (I threw in the MILF part).

You are only 4 years old but at 4, you blow me away.

Before you came, my life was like any typical college kid my age. The world was my oyster and my five year plan was as solid as a brick wall. You were a factor that I had never considered.

Doing my typical college thing

Doing my typical college thing

When I found out about you, I was only 20, still a baby myself in many ways. Like the fact that I still didn’t know how to wash a load of laundry without shrinking everything in it.

Two weeks before I took that pregnancy test, I competed in a college Beer Olympics with your dad. I must have drank between 12-15 beers, chugging them as fast as I could. Sorry about that. Your little peanut fetus must have had as much of a hangover as I did. However, your dad and I won the Olympics so that trophy you stare at on the wall was well worth it.

Dad was super excited with his winning Russian hat.

Then there was that time when I was about 7 months pregnant and turned 21.  Instead of getting wasted on my birthday, I got loaded on raw-free sushi. No complaints here, I’m sure you were just as happy as I was that night.

That same week my doctor said I could have a glass of red wine, my first drink of alcohol since the Beer Olympics. I ordered a red sangria…I thought it was red wine with fruit. Sometimes young mothers are stupid. Halfway through that sangria I realized that it was filled with more than just red wine. Between the slight buzz and the angry looks from other people in that restaurant, I should have noticed sooner. My bad.

This explains everything

This explains everything

When you were born, you were not the cutest newborn. You were purple and had a slight resemblance to the asian gas station attendant down the street. I’m sure your dad was a bit concerned but didn’t say a word.

Do you see my concern?

Do you see what I’m saying?

As you filled out and got your chubby baby rolls, you became the prettiest little thing I had ever seen. You had bright blue eyes like your dad, my smile and your own unique laugh that was contagious. You should have been the poster baby for GAP, you made Prince George look like a pile of elephant shit.

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Can’t handle the adorableness…Neither could GAP

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Heart Melted.

When you were about 8 months old I brought you shopping with a friend…a non-baby-experienced, friend. She took you into a dressing room while I finished getting my hair done and sat you on a dressing room table. Of course you fell off and bumped your head. She brought you back to me wailing, your head looked like Worf from Star Trek.

That was a bad day for you.

That was a bad day for you.

I felt terrible, probably not as terrible as my friend but that was the first time I questioned if I was good mother. The minute I coddled you in my arms and kissed your boo-boo, you calmed down and smiled letting me it was ok. I left with my hair half done, but I didn’t have to pay for it so it worked out. Needless to say, my friend will not be allowed to take you shopping until you are at least 10.

By 2 years old, you mastered the art of a taking a selfie before it was even an art to master. You would take my IPhone and snap pictures of yourself for me to find. You don’t know this but your secret selfies got me through Monday mornings.

Awesome in a selfie

Awesome in a selfie

At 3 years old, you were more mature and smarter than most kids your age. You are an old soul. I know this because you asked me one day to stop calling you a baby. You said, “I am 3 years old and should be called a little young girl“. It broke my heart a little bit but it was a fair request.  Or that time you wanted to use your Chuckie E Cheese money to buy a Dora doll. You insisted on using your own money to buy what you wanted. At 3, you already were an independent “little young girl.” Beyonce would be proud.

Independent women don't give a F*$#!

Independent women don’t give a F*$#! in Crayola Factory

Now at 4 years old you continue to amaze me. When we went camping and a wild animal ate all your marsh mellows, I did my best to keep you calm by explaining that we would get you more. You simply looked at me and said, “Fuck it, whatever. It’s no big deal”. I should have scolded you for using profanity or put you in time out but I was so impressed you used it in the right context that I couldn’t. All I had to do was explain that “Fuck” is an adult word and should be used by adults. You now you reprimand me for using it and say, “12 year old girls shouldn’t use that word.” I hope you think I’m still 12 in a couple of years.

"Mom!"

“Mom!”

I love when you make me laugh uncontrollably, which happens often. Especially that time we went for a 5 minute walk and you told me your boobs hurt from walking so much. You told me you wanted to lay down so you could rest your boobs from such a strenuous hike.

After two years, Dad and I finally found the secret to keeping you a clean kid. Who would of known the detachable shower head would be the trick to get you to bathe more than 2x a week. My outlook for your hygiene is now bright.

The god of all clean children

The god of all clean children

As you get older, you are turning into a little me. I worry about your dad’s sanity. Having two of me in one house might be a bit much for him. We may not find most of his jokes funny, but he is crazy about us. You will find out soon enough that he is wrapped around your finger and always will be.  Give him a break every now and again, he tries his best to keep up with your mile-a-minute stories. And I know his dreams of you becoming the first female NFL player are excessive, especially when he times your 50meter sprints in the driveway.  He means well. I will do my best to keep him at bay but wearing his favorite team’s football jersey on Sunday is out of my realm, nothing I can do about that.

I got nothing to do with this.

I got nothing to do with this.

I often wonder why you chose me to be your mom and am so incredibly grateful that you did. I will never be the perfect mother and you will never be the perfect child but you are certainly perfect for me. One special thing we will always be able to share is that we are growing up together. The bond you and I have will never be duplicated by any future siblings you may have one day, it’s only for you and I .

I can’t wait to see what great things you will do. You will fail and you will make mistakes in life and me and your dad will fail and make mistakes but we will always love you unconditionally.

I promise that I will always be honest with you and tell you like it is. I promise that I will always do my best as your mother. I promise that you will not like every decision I make for you or that I will like every decision you make for yourself. All I ask is that you promise me to do what makes you happy and that will always make me happy.

IMG_1064

On this Mother’s Day I’m not thankful to be a mother, I’m thankful to be YOUR mother. I wouldn’t replace you with any kid out there because for me, you are the most perfect “little young girl” I could ever ask for.

Love,

Mom

We Are The Stick People

4 Apr
Untitled

This is an original drawing

I never understood the stick family phenomenon.

You know, those stupid family conglomerates stuck on the back of minivans?

I live in a typical suburbia environment where minivans rule the road. I know I’m getting close to home when I start to see the plethora of stick people dance across my line of vision.

The population of my town has been reduced to stick figures and no one seems to care.

This might sound crazy but I think there is a competition going on with this stick family obsession.

The more stick people that populate your back windshield the better! Let the stick kid breeding competition begin!

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I frequently ask myself, where did this begin?

I think I also found the answer:

America Loves Stickers

Buckeyes_helmet_with_stickers_4g

I saw a van the other day that had 9 stick kids.

Yes, 9.

Why would you want to tell people you have 9 children? When I see you have 9 children, it makes me want to drive up next to you and scream, “Stop breeding stick people”.

Plus, if you drive a minivan I already assumed you have a mass litter of kids.

The irony of the whole thing was that this particular minivan had an additional bumper sticker that read,

Proud supporter of my neighborhood watch program

Well,  you’re not doing the neighborhood watch any favors by inviting every single child molester in the area to follow you home. Basically your family decal is  putting your litter of stick kids in danger. While you think it’s cute to have stickers on the back windshield, to a pedophile you are saying, “Hey, we have kids! And lots to spare! Come by and join the fun!”

The sticks have gone to your brain.

If I were to post my family stick status, I would have a mommy stick, daddy stick and baby stick. I would also include two doggie sticks, one cat stick and one rabbit stick.

People would officially know that I am an animal hoarder. This is why I am not a stick fanatic.

The only benefit to this stick family obsession is that it can be a great source of gossip for the rest of us…and who doesn’t love a little gossip?

Just last week, I found out that my daughter’s classmate has TWO dads.

How?

I saw this:

My_Family_DINK

Dad-to-Dad Parenting

And then I noticed a change in my neighbor’s stick family situation.

She added an additional stick child (she is expecting) and removed her stick husband (they are getting a divorce).

The big X just gave it away.

car-photo-2004-honda-pilot-stick-figure-family-decals-father-position-open-funny

You can learn a lot when you pay attention.

Shockingly, this trend has caught on in non-suburban cities like Newark too!

Typically in these parts of town, I expect to see death decals:

 

Debbie Downer Stickers

Debbie Downer Stickers

However I was presently surprised to see this:

 

9krDTnA

Hard Core Jail Time

Baby mama has custody of the kids while baby daddy does jail time…O, and they have a dog.

Honest, entertaining and to the point.

I love it.

But the fun doesn’t end there, I am starting to see some really creative stick family decals that I think are worth mentioning…

Everyone has a little family dysfunction

DFMSyvo

Dysfunction at it’s finest

Why be stick people when you could be a family of tight-ass chickens?

fs4

Even the Single-Cat Lady wanted to partake in the fun!

Any takers?

stick-figure-family-sticker

Proud and Loud Mormons

stick-figure-family-stickers-3

And finally, what’s a family without a little passive-aggressiveness?

stick-figure-decals-beer

Those damn hoes wreck everything

I will never understand the point of this trend.

Maybe it’s along the lines of putting reindeer antlers on cars at Christmas time. Or maybe it’s a deep seeded need for humans to feel validated by the use of stickers; anyone remember Kindergarten Star Charts?

No, that’s not a memory we would like to re-visit, I agree.

So many sticks, so little time…

 


 

 

Janine's Confessions of A Mommyaholic

Conscious Uncoupling Causes The Disappearance of Flight 370

27 Mar

 I’m not promising any magic in this post today, just a random rant that struck my fancy because I spend entirely too much time on Facebook.

Have you ever read those trending topics on facebook?

Right hand side of the screen? Popular stories? I’ll wait a moment for you to find it….


facebook-trends-620x350

Ok well this week’s topics were the most asinine stories I have ever seen. I’d rather have scrolled through my newsfeed reading all the retarded status updates of gym losers posting selfies of their #AWESOME workouts. #HatersGunnaHate

In case you missed it, here are the trending topics on Facebook this week…

Hercules

Dwayne Johnson proves he is Hercules in this new trailer

hercules

Russell Crowe Meets Arnold Schwarzenegger

Can someone please tell “The Rock” to stop trying to make Dwayne Johnson happen! This man is having a serious identity crisis.

Did he really prove to be Hercules? Last time I checked he was a wrestler out of work, making movies terrible by starring in them.

America, when will we learn that ex-wrestlers/lifters/porn stars/ do not make good movie stars? Case in point: Arnold Schwarzenegger

 

Nick Cannon

Nick Cannon wears white face, sparks internet controversy.

nick_cannon_whiteface_instagram

Have you heard about this yet? White people are legit pissed.

Are they really that mad? Or are they just riding the “poor white people” wave they have waited so long for…FINALLY, a black guy does something us white people can publicly complain about. We can’t complain about their terrible grammar, music, bad behaviors or excessive breeding habits because that would be racist, but now, WHITE PEOPLE ARE FINALLY THE VICTIMS!

Yep, they have been waiting years for victim status. So in short, whiteys ain’t letting this shit go.

Let the man do some white face, it’s a compliment, not a diss.  Fuck people, stop being such ass hats.

Nick, welcome to world of being white…I think you nailed it, even the part where you married a cougar. Kudos.

 

National Football League

NFL will now penalize players for dunking over the goal post

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Ok…And…If this is “trending” topic-worthy there is no reason as to why the pimple on my ass shouldn’t be.

Plus, aren’t you supposed to dunk in football? No? Wrong sport?

Stupid…exactly my point.

 Flight 370

Debris found by Chinese Satellites 

O Jesus Christ, here we go again…the Chinese satellites found “debris” floating in the ocean…for the third time this week.

Is it me or does anyone else question why the rest of the world would think these Chinese satellite images are credible? Let’s not even discuss the fact that Chinese satellites are probably sold in Walmart, made by a group of unpaid children in a factory but I just don’t see debris in the picture.

Although if I squint my eyes hard enough looking at the images, similar to how the Chinese would look at it, then I do see plane debris. But then again I also see Godzilla in the left hand corner, so who knows.

Squint and See

Squint and See

The bigger mystery is, how do the Chinese see anything out of those eye-slits?

How? HOW CAN YOU SEE?

How? HOW CAN YOU SEE?

Gwyneth Paltrow and Chris Martin

Uncoupling

Here we are, just uncoupling

Here we are, just uncoupling

Spoiler alert: they split up.

It was an “amicable” breakup or what Gwyneth calls, “Conscious UnCoupling”

Please explain what Concious Uncoupling means. Do people use this term, “Conscious Uncoupling”? Is this a thing now? I can’t wait until the first turd starts using this phrase on Facebook.

Status update: Me and Chad decided to break up. #ConciousUncoupling

How does one “uncouple” themselves? Do you just decide, hey lets start to uncouple. I’ll bang some guys tonight, you bang some girls tomorrow and we can start this uncoupling process. We will do things in an uncouple way.

One benefit to this break up…Coldplay might actually decide to consciously uncouple themselves. Wouldn’t that bring joy to the masses. We can finally stop slitting our wrists listening to their depressing music.

North Korea

Kim Jong Un requires all North Korean Men to get haircuts…like his haircut

kim122way-b498fda00cd3d7f6b572743dc45202c69cf3947f-s6-c30

Attention men of North Korea, you are now ordered to cut your hair like a fat faced penis. Don’t feel too bad, you could be like us Americans who are now required to buy health insurance. Imagine the horror of that!

Although, it could be worse, he could be requesting that everyone get haircuts like his pal, Dennis Rodman.

Who would you rather look like? An asian version of Hitler or a black, green-haired pirate?

The choice is yours:

NK leader meets Dennis Rodman

 Jeff Gordon and Stephen Rhodes

Come out of the closet as a gay couple

I think the world is coming to an end. Jeff Gordon announces he is a gay man in a relationship with openly gay driver Stephen Rhodes.

jeff-gordon-and-stephen-rhodes-confirm-homosexual-relationship

 

No, wait, this is supposedly a hoax according to searches on Google…but it’s too late, this has already spread across the internet. Nobody knows its a rumor, especially a bunch of red-neck NASCAR fans. Unfortunately they are illiterate. All they saw was the picture of both men holding hands and went nuts. Some fans have already committed suicide from the news. In fact, I saw 4 less Gordon flags flying this morning.

FACT: NASCAR fans reportedly have been seen running into the northern state borders with guns screaming, “Kill all the liberals and the gays!”

FACT: I have lost faith in humanity.

 

Can’t wait to see what crap is trending on Facebook next week…until then!

 

 

 

Hashtag #Hoes A Video Blog

7 Feb

Before you watch the video, I’d like to give a brief background on the Hashtag #HOE.

Definition of a hashtag hoe: a female who overuses hashtags as picture captions on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram. Why do they do this? So strangers can look at their pictures.

You all know who these people are and if you don’t, you are most likely one of them. If you are one of them, shame on you and for the love of God, stop it. Most hashtag hoes post the most ridiculous pictures and frankly the pictures only require one caption….#Why? Why are you publicly embarrassing yourself?

The publicist and I have explored a variety of hashtag hoes and separated them into 3 categories; #GirlsWhoLift, #InstaChefs and #TBT (Throw Back Thursday).

#GirlsWhoLift: Ahhhh, the gym whores, personally my favorite type of hashtagger. Typically gym whores are hot, I will give them that but my god, if you are that hot why are you posting half naked selfies on social media EVERY OTHER DAY!? How much attention do you require???! I mean it’s entirely unbelievable to us viewers that you actually work out with your hair down, lets be real. Are you really working out, or are you building up a portfolio for a porn audition? I can never tell. Please sister, put your clothes back on do a real workout. We all know #RealGirlsWorkOutInClothes. Right now, none of us are admiring your gym progress, we are just down right embarrassed for your mother. #IamTotallyJudgingYou.

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At least she shaved her armpits. #Kudos

#InstaChef: Some instachefs snap pictures of every single meal they consume on a daily basis. Have you seen spaghetti before? Have you seen peanut butter and jelly? Of course you have so who gives a flipping shit about what it looks like in an instagram filter? Half your hashtags don’t even relate to food! What does #Love have to do with bread? What does #Home have to with meat?  If you are going to crowd my feed with your stupid food pictures, I might just leave a comment about how many calories that meal really is…hey fatty you know that’s like 3000 calories per serving? You might want to go to the gym, workout with your hair down and then tell us how you burned off those calories.

Bread?!! OMG how creative!

Bread?!! OMG how creative!

The #TBT Junkie-Throw Back Thursdays should have picture guidelines. If you are posting a picture from the day before that is not considered a “Throw Back“. Throw backs pictures are from your awkward teenage stages in life so the rest of us can laugh and make fun of how ugly you were, not from your underwear shopping spree yesterday (Yes, someone actually did that).

TBT? Na, just another half naked selfie.

TBT? Na, just another half naked selfie.

This hashtag rant couldn’t end with just a written lecture…we brought it to a whole new level by creating a video. Our personal speculation of how hashtag hoes go about creating a classic hashtag picture post.

Rest assure, we made a point NOT to leave #One #Fucking #Thing #Out.

Enjoy Bitches.

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That Time Cheesy Bread Turned Me Into A Lesbian

31 Jan

A funny thing happened on the way home from a track meet…

I think I have mentioned before that me at 18 was nothing short of a total douchebag, I apologize to my parents everyday for it. Before I tell this story, I will apologize again, I’m really sorry for being a douchebag.

It was winter track season of my senior year in high school and I was on my way home from a track meet. About 30 minutes into my drive, I hit a stretch of traffic that left me in a slow crawl for 15 miles. Hitting random stretches of traffic in New Jersey is not unusual.

FACT: New Jersians spend half of their life sitting in traffic.

Driving, doing my thing

Luckily, my teammate was carpooling home with me and helped to pass the time with Rent duets and celebrity impressions. To set the scene a little further, it was pouring rain and we had both finished a taxing track race; the 400 meter hurdles. If you are familiar with track, the 400 meter hurdle race is harder than childbirth, you might as well jump off a building when you find out you have to run it.  Anyways, as we passed the time…we came to notice an admirer driving a Honda Accord next to us.

He was probably about 23 or so and had big blue eyes with curly blonde hair styled like Matthew McConaughey’s. My teammate and I were instantly captured by his smiles. The flirting was subtle at first, his car would pull up next to us, he would flash a smile and take off again. We would inch up to his car, blow a kiss and giggle as we pulled away. After about 20 minutes or so of this traffic flirting, things started to get more complicated. We began writing notes and putting them up against the window for him to read like, “UR HOTT” or “HONDA’S GOT BACK”. One even read, “HONK IF UR INTO US!”. Childish yes, but so much fun up until my stomach started growling. As I was getting closer to a Red Lobster restaurant, my hunger could no longer be avoided.

“Damn, i’m starving.” I said to my teammate.

“Me Too! We should stop for food at Red Lobster, get some cheesy bread”.

“You just read my mind but I’m broke, I spent my last $10 on hair spray last night. I wanted to go all out for 80’s day at school tomorrow.”

“Ugh I’m broke too, I have about $5 left in my bank account.”

Then an idea hit me…I wasn’t sure if it would work but I was willing to try. After all, Red Lobster cheesy bread was at stake here.

“How bad do you want cheesy bread right now?” I asked.

“I might sell my leg for just a bite.”

I rolled down my window as we caught up again to Mr. Honda and motioned for him to do the same. “Hey there cutie! We were going to grab something to eat at Red Lobster, want to join?” I yelled across the lanes.

“Uhh, ok? Yea Sure, meet me in the parking lot.” He yelled back.

Sweet, Mission Cheesy Bread was in motion.

When it comes to cheesy bread...no stopping me

When it comes to cheesy bread…no stopping me

We figured out early in life that men will do whatever necessary to get laid, even if it means buying dinner for complete strangers. A free meal at Red Lobster was going to happen.

First things first, we needed fake names and cover stories because after all, this guy was a complete stranger. She would be Carmen, the 23 year old zoologist. I would be Carrie, the 24 year old Park Ranger. We tided up the details of our stories and prepared to exit the car with our new identities.

When Mr. Honda stepped out of the car, I immediately regretted my decision to go through with the plan. He was 5’2, almost the size of a large hobbit. I also noticed his left shoe was higher than the right shoe and he parked in a handicap spot. “Why hello beautiful ladies, what an honor it is to eat with you BOTH.” He said with a slight lisp as he limped toward the entrance to the restaurant. I put my head into my hands as he opened the door for us. I will definitely be going to hell for this one, I just wasn’t above using a handicapped man with a lisp for free cheesy bread.

As we sat down, the cheesy bread was delivered to our table, my teammate and I scarfed down all 6 rolls. Mr. Honda Hobbit was too busy talking to notice. We found out his name was Howard and he was born with one leg shorter than the other. It never stopped him though. He went on to describe how he played basketball on the weekends with his wheelchair buddies. He also worked in construction building houses for charity. He did mention however, that currently he was suspended from his job due to a pending criminal investigation, which included some sort of assault with a nail gun.  He was asked to quit work until it resolved. Cool, Howard the Honda Hobbit was a dangerous handicap criminal and here I was sharing a meal with him.

Howard really wasn’t so bad, minus the assault thing but when his instinctual male-mind kicked in toward the end of our dinner, things got weird, “So what are you ladies up to tonight? I was thinking we could move this party to my place.”

Trying to be as nice as I could, I made up an easy-out excuse, “Well, Carmen has to get home to see her parents, its been a while and she misses them.”

Howard then replied, “That’s a shame, well if Carmen can’t make it, then how about you and I go back, Carrie? I’ll take you home, wrap you up real nice and make you squeal like a piggy!“.

When you say those words, I see this man.

When you say those words, I see this man.

I almost vomited in my mouth. Not only did Howard just quote Deliverance with a lisp but he was pushing hard to make sure this dinner was worth his money. This was check-mate. How would I get out of this? If I told him to get lost, we would be stuck paying for the bill with our non-existent money and if I went home with him…well, that was never an option. I wasn’t going anywhere with some criminal, half-midget in a Honda named Howard.

Acting quickly, my teammate grabbed my hand and held it to her lips, “Actually Howard, we are a couple. Carrie is coming home with me to meet my parents and we are worried about how they will react to this whole thing so we just wanted some company to keep our mind off of it.” She squeezed my hand to get me to play along.

Yea, we are most definitely a couple. We aren’t into guys, strictly girls. We are totally on the straight and narrow…erh in a gay kind of way.”  I answered.

Thank god Howard the Honda Hobbit had a heart, he smiled with sincerity and said, “My pleasure ladies, sorry for the mix-up. However, I’d love to hear how you two met. I’ll throw in dinner with dessert if you can stay a little longer.

So there we were sitting with Howard over dessert explaining the intimate moments of how we met and became to be a lesbian couple. Carmen shared her coming out of the closet story and I, as Carrie, shared mine. Howard was intrigued by our experiences and even got a little choked up at one point as we described our future dream wedding together; we had both decided to wear wedding dresses. Mine would be pink.

After dessert was finished, Howard paid the bill and walked us out to our car, hugging us goodbye. He thanked us for the company and wished us well. We got into my car and sat for a moment to adjust to the entire situation.

Did we really just do all that for cheesy bread?” My teammate asked me.

Yea, Cheesy bread just turned us into lesbians.

I started up my car, turned on the Rent soundtrack and continued my drive home in silence.

driving-gif

Janine's Confessions of A Mommyaholic

Southern Boy Living In a Northern World

24 Jan
I love that I have cleavage in this picture

I love that I have cleavage in this picture

I did the one thing I told myself I would never do, I married a southern boy. I also told myself I’d never get knocked up before marriage, but I did that too…by a southern boy who I said I would never marry. Go Figure.

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Only the southerns drink beer while feeding their children

I’m not sure why, but I just really have this disliking for southern folk. I was born in Virginia but moved up north at the age of 13. Maybe I was brainwashed but I fully embraced the northern way as my way of life. Even on my first day of school in the north, I knew I would love it here.

Me: “Hi I’m Ryan, the new girl. Can I sit with you at lunch?”

Northern Girl: “No, and don’t ever fucking ask me again. You’re too blonde and too nice, you won’t last a day in this part of town.”

It was love at first curse, I immediately knew northerners were my kind of people. I dropped that southern accent faster than you could say “CAWWFEE”.

When I met my husband in college and learned first hand how southerns really work, I despised them…and all of their traditional ways. Let’s break it down, southerners like to get married before the age of 28 and have at least 2.5 children before the age of 32. They buy houses with a lot of land and white picket fences and wear riding boots with scarves. Plus, they all dye their hair blonde which is offensive to us natural blondes. Of course I was married with a child before the age of 28 but I don’t count that because I’m not a fan of riding boots with scarves, white picket fences or fake blonde hair.

So when my husband decided to move to New Jersey and live in my world, he found out rather quickly what he was getting himself into; a cesspool of non-traditional thinking…

Thoughts from a northern-southern marriage

1. Cooking is the job of __________.

Boy Ryan (S): Women should be cooking most nights of the week. The only exception is during the summer, then it is a man’s duty to cook on the grill

Girl Ryan (N): Fact: most female serial killers, kill their victims by poisoning the victim’s food…Men should cook just as much as women to ensure they are not being poisoned

2. Decision Maker

Boy Ryan (S): Men should be the ones to make majority of family decisions

Girl Ryan (N): Men never should make decisions. If they do, the idea came from the woman

3. Children

Boy Ryan (S): Your twenties are for birthing children

Girl Ryan (N): Your twenties are for drinking, sleeping and doing stupid things

4. Marriage arguments

Boy Ryan (S): Couples should have calm, quiet discussions behind closed doors

Girl Ryan (N): The more tears, the more screaming, the better

5.Cursing

Boy Ryan (S): You should never curse in public

Girl Ryan (N): Fuck that shit

6. Working

Boy Ryan (S): Woman should be at home raising children while men go to work

Girl Ryan (N): Women should work so they don’t strangle their children

7. In-laws

Boy Ryan (S): I hate my in-laws

Girl Ryan (N): I hate my in-laws

8. Parenting

Boy Ryan (S): Parents should always be an example for children

Girl Ryan (N): Parents should sometimes be an example for children, but sometimes be just as annoying

9. Quotes to live by

Boy Ryan (S): Life is a journey so work hard and be respected

Girl Ryan (N): Life is short, so fuck it

10. Personal life

Boy Ryan (S): Personal life is private, never share the details of marriage or life with anyone

Girl Ryan (N): Umm…why do you think I started this blog…exploit it all!

Since the beginning of time, the North and South have been at odds. I find it only appropriate that I, a loud anti-southerner would marry a real, traditional southern boy. It’s like my destiny to learn to work with these annoying people. Even though my husband is traditional at heart, he has a wild streak that keeps him sane. I don’t know how we do it,  but we make it work. Our differences in tradition make us That Boy Ryan and That Girl Ryan.

So to you traditional southerners, take your white picket fences and shove it, we all know who’s the better breed of humans.

New York City

New York City

Janine's Confessions of A Mommyaholic

Dear Mr. President

23 Jan

Dear Mr. President,

My newest complaint is of epic proportions which is why this letter is worthy of your attention. After a recent episode, I sense there are some fishy things going on in the medical world that you should know about…

This past summer I was self-diagnosed with Leukemia, Crohn’s disease and/or Celiac disease. According to WebMd, I had the symptoms for all three. I won’t go into detail about my concerns but let’s just say I could not travel too far from the restroom and obviously, that complicates things for me. I wanted to confirm my self-diagnosis so I made an appointment with my nearest physician, specifically a gastroenterologist; also known as a butt doctor in laymen’s terms. The doctor’s name was Dr. Gassenbutt and I will not admit, on the record, that I chose him because of his last name, but I did. He was a tiny man, no more than 5’0 and had a nose the size of the Wicked Witch of the West. Whatever, it doesn’t really matter, Angie’s List said he was highly qualified.

doctor-creepy-giggles

Creepy? No, of course not.

Meeting him for the first time was interesting to say the least. He greeted me then asked me to get fully undressed. I gave him some credit, for a tiny man of 5’0, he got right to the point. First he felt around my stomach and then on my abdomen which tickled a bit. When I started to giggle, he also began to giggle and asked me to turn on my side to examine my back. He wasn’t so bad for a butt doctor, hideous yes, but overall a decent guy.  Then he did something that nobody has ever done… he went a bit too far, too fast. Without any notice, he stuck two fingers right in my back door. There was no warning, or, “hey girl, prepare for entry“, he just went for it. I would have at least appreciated a head’s up because I believe the, “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” policy does not apply in this situation.

Next time I’m bringing my rape whistle.

After the violation examination, he sent me on my way, told me to pick up a “stool sample” pack at the lab and come back next week for a colonoscopy.  If I would have known what I was getting myself into, I would have left and never returned.

At the lab, I was handed a bag of 16 cylinder tubes and told to read the directions on the back of each bottle. I found out rather quickly what a “stool sample” really was and that it has to be repeated 16 times.

16 bottles of stool samples…Impossible.

Dientamoeba-fragilis-stool-sample-tube

I’m not a pigeon, I don’t just walk around shitting when I feel like it. There was no way I could possibly fill up all 16 tubes. Did anyone consider that I am a girl? Girls have a variety of factors that determine whether or not they can efficiently “go to the bathroom.” I can’t just go when I think it, I’m not a dude, I have standards for that kind of thing.  But when there is a will, there is a way and I found “the way” at McDonald’s. After digesting 4 Big Mac’s in one sitting, let’s just say, 16 bottles was a piece of cake. Who would have known that MacDonald’s makes the secret potion for filling up sample tubes. Maybe they should put that next to the calorie counts or something.

So, the Big Mac’s were a blessing in disguise or a blessing in a bottle, but I still had one bigger obstacle to overcome; finding the right time at home to complete my tube-task. There is something you must understand, I am a mother which means I get no peace and quiet, even when I lock myself in the bathroom. In fact, every time I walk into the bathroom, my kid will barge in as if it’s an open invitation for a hang-out session. I swear that this kid has some freakish type of sixth sense. As if that isn’t bad enough, I have two dogs that need to be next to me at all times and going to the bathroom with a kid talking and two dogs staring at you never ends well. Going to the bathroom is just not the same as it was when I was single and child-less.

To be blunt Mr. President, I haven’t taken a decent shit since before I had my daughter. That is four years of back-up. Try and be a decent human being with four years of back-up.

So my point is,  at the very moment I was standing over the toilet, placing my materials into the last tube, BOOM. The door swings open and there she is followed by the rest of my furry dog pack. “Mommy…Moommmmyyyyyy…I need...” She stopped mid-sentence when she realized what I was doing and said, “Mom, you shouldn’t play with your poop“. My 3 year old just told me it was wrong to “play” with my poop. That is what we call, “A Rock Bottom” moment, I’m not sure my life could get any lower.

It is one thing to scoop out your own samples, but it is an entirely different thing to get reprimanded by a child while doing it.

Dropping that shit off (pun intended) at the lab was a relief up until I was handed two packs of prep drink-powder. Now it was time to prepare for my colonoscopy…

Take this the night before your colonoscopy and the morning of your colonoscopy“, directed the lab technician, “Make sure you don’t eat too much before taking both packs.” She wished me luck and sent me on my way. I should have know right then and there that my life would forever change.

IMG_1244

This is an understatement.

I’m recapping this part for you Mr. President to shed light on the types of medical drugs that are being given to innocent Americans like myself. In short, after drinking that prep-powder..my next few words will be chosen with delicacy…I experienced a horrific, graphic and death-defying ordeal. Let’s just say, Niagara Falls could have been considered a stream after the velocity I had witnessed. No human being should ever feel that kind of power; it’s could be dangerous. Imagine if the terrorists got their hands on that stuff and used it as a weapon?

We would all die of bowel-suffocation!

IMG_1157

Bottoms Up!

I don’t know how I did it but after re-gaining some consciousness post-prep, I finally made it to the colonoscopy center. I sat in a waiting room with 7-8 other, old people who looked like they would keel over at any moment. How the hell did they survive after digesting that prep drink?  I wondered…I’m sure people have died from drinking that stuff…that would be one hell of a news report… Man, 81 dies from prep drink that exploded his heart…OR…Man, 81 passes away drinking a substance that burst his head open. 

After thinking about that for 30 minutes, I was more than pleased to have the anesthesia knock me out. Upon waking up, I believe I told my nurse that I was “single and ready to mingle“. When she had asked me how to spell my name, I spelled the name of Jennifer Lawrence.

Photo on 1-22-14 at 9.02 PM

Just taking a look…

You know what was bad? The part when I got my medical bill from this whole fiasco! Mr. President, are you aware of the prices being charged? Is it even legal to charge this much?!

$700 for Stool Sample

$1400 for Colonoscopy

$50 for in-office visit

Let’s just examine the break down for a moment…

$700 stool sample…$400 of which went to “LABOR COSTS”. WHAT LABOR WAS NEEDED FOR A STOOL SAMPLE? If I am correct in my thinking, I was the one who ate all 4 Big Mac’s. I was the one who excreted those Big Mac’s and I was the one who shoveled the remnants of those Big Mac’s into 16 tubes. WHAT ADDITIONAL WORK WAS NEEDED? Next time, I’ll take a shit right in front of the lab technician and save myself the $400.

$1400 colonoscopy. In definition, a colonoscopy is a tiny camera that is inserted into your butt to examine your insides. So how is it that porn actors, who by the way do this for a living, aren’t paid nearly as much as my bill? Is there really that much of a difference between a medical camera and a plug? I think not.

$50 in-office exam visit. I’m not going to re-visit the two finger memory, but if I wanted to pay someone $50 to do just that, it sure as hell wouldn’t have been Dr. Gassenbutt. I would have at least expected a nice dinner  and maybe an intellectual conversation before-hand. For the record, I have a very nice behind and usually don’t allow any guy under 5’0 go anywhere near it. But now, Dr. Midget-Hands wants to charge me $50 for it?!

And what really puts the icing on the cake is that my $2000 diagnosis was nothing more than a case of an “upset” stomach. Well, thank you Dr. Ass-Hat for a brilliant investigation…I just paid $2000 for you to cop a feel up my butt, almost kill me with my own bowel movements and fund an adventure into the depths of my ass.

Are your health bills this much Mr. President? Perhaps I should check out the healthcare.gov website and switch my plan because my insurance is literally a pain in the ass. I think we can both agree this insurance thing is all George Bush’s fault…he screws up everything. Only an idiot would make healthcare this much of a hassle.

After reading this letter I’m sure you feel obliged to make a donation to pay for my upset stomach. Just a small donation will do, really and if you can’t find it in your heart to send money, the least you can do is tell me if aliens are real. I think I have gone to through enough to finally know the truth about that.

May God Bless America,

A Broke, Healthcare Victim

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.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

“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?

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