Tag Archives: Women

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!

The Turtlenecks Have Landed

12 Nov
I am trying something new folks, spice up the blogger write-life a little bit.
Every so often, I am going to dive into some of the worst fashion “Trends” out there to date. I can’t count the number of popular fashion bloggers that the internet currently hosts. Everything from “Must Haves” to “How to style yourself” posts are obviously very popular.
And because my fashion sense sucks, I might as well be labeled as a fashion-failure, I am going to bring you a different perspective on specific fashion pieces; because let’s face it, we all wear shit we hate.
The TurtleNeck and family

I tried to make it work

Brace yourself, the turtlenecks have arrived…Again.
I hate everything about them; the way they slowly suffocate you throughout the day, the way they accumulate excessive pit sweat, even how fat they make your face look.
I can totally relate to this cat

I can totally relate to this cat

 I tried to get rid of all mine this year during my annual, do good by donating clothes, but I kept one. Just one for a, just in case these dumb things come back in style, type of scenario.
And to my surprise, Glamour.com named the Turtle and Cowl neck as the season’s “must have” style for fall 2013.
WTF? Haven’t the fashion gods had enough of these things? When do the necks go into retirement? Platform shoes have been ousted out off the runway, but turtlenecks are still surviving? How does that happen?
Just Die Turtleneck, DIE!

Just Die Turtleneck, DIE!

But have no doubt, I have found OTHER ways Turtlenecks can be utilized.
Case in point:
1. Make a “White-Girl” BlueTooth. Add the accessories of a “Ghetto BlueTooth”, throw in a turtleneck and BAM, you have a “White Girl” Bluetooth. Ideal for excessively long conversations and hand talking.

FotoFlexer_Photo2

2. Try out a hair length BEFORE you cut! Don’t you hate when you want to do something “Drastic” to your hair and have no idea how it will look?
Problem Solved.
FotoFlexer_Photo

3. Animal hair issues? Not with a turtleneck. Your furry friend and his hair will no longer clog the vacuum.

Desheder

Screw you FURminator

4. Spend some quality time with your child; because sometimes close just isn’t close enough.

photo-45. Or use it as a new type of time-out

photo-5

3 minutes of silent time-out

6. Cover up your double, triple or quadruple chins.

Double Chin

Seriously, chins can be a problem

7. Shield your nose when someone in the office farts. Trust me, it works.

Steve from Accounting just dropped a bomb!

Steve from Accounting just dropped a bomb!

8. OR sneak in a quick nap at the office.

Photo on 11-5-13 at 6.45 PM


Nothing to see here, hard at work.

9. When you do all the above and still can’t get enough, you can now make any t-shirt a, Turtle T!

turtle t-shirt

10. For the laziest of the lazy, Cowl Necks (close cousins of the turtleneck) are ideal for feeding yourself without having to put in much effort. Holding bags of chips, packs of cheese and cans of popcorn are all compatible with a Cowl Neck.

cownecks

Turtlenecks are really a fashion nightmare. So make your life easier by re-purposing them for other things! It opens up a world of possibilities for those who wear them.

Make sure to tune in next time for Fashion Nightmares, where we will be discussing, bottom button onesies!

WHAT, is the purpose of them?

How did they get here?

What shall we do with them?

Uncomfortable, awkward and unflattering.

leotard

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.

The Real Housewives of the Gym

24 Sep

Women are such interesting animals…Yes, animals. You have to wonder how men have co-existed and kept up with these crazed mental patients for so long. I mean if you really think about it, can you really blame them for suppressing the female population for as long as they did? Poor guys just couldn’t keep up…

But there is a particular group of woman who have brought a whole new definition to Mind-games. I’m no historian, but I believe the 50’s and 60’s social structure provided a prime environment for these women to evolve into mind-fucking masters, I’m talking about housewives. Dangerous, Devious and Dainty all in the same sentence.

housewife_happy

Now before all you housewives reading get your panties in a bunch and start throwing Dr. Oz’s latest recipe in my face, let’s at least admit you look forward to other activities that don’t involve cooking, cleaning or children…activities like the gym. I’m not saying it’s pathetic…I know for working women, the highlight of our week is casual Fridays so were not that far off. But when I joined a new gym this year and saw first hand how housewives interact with one another, my perspective on this group of women has really changed.

I’m not a fan of the gym and if it wasn’t for the multiple self-loathing sessions about the jiggly packs on my ass, I’d never set foot in that fat-burning hell hole. Eventually, reality sets in; you can’t eat like a 700lb man trying to maintain a 140lb stature without a little work-out here and there. Thus, I take group fitness classes (hell ya!) with a bunch of 40-50 year old housewives and have developed a whole new set of middle-aged girlfriends! This is exciting, because I believe middle-aged friends are better than 20 something-year-old friends, I just learn a lot more from them.

They teach me all about menopause, divorce and why 40 truly is the NEW 20. I even found out the reason why our trainer doesn’t incorporate any jumping exercises into our workouts. It’s because the older women almost always pee their pants. Apparently, after having a couple of children, jumping up and down makes you wet yourself.

A Great Motto To Live By

A Great Motto To Live By

These home warriors are a force to be reckoned with; once you piss them off, its war. Housewives have the time for a good, long battle so you can’t underestimate their power to fuck with your head.

Let’s digress…

Housewives have silent conflicts. They don’t exchange confrontational words or physical beatings, but instead use passive aggressive tactics to ruin your life. Sometimes, you don’t know your in a conflict until one day you walk into workout class and no body will talk to you, then you know the damage has been done.
Recently, I have gotten tangled up in this mess and it’s actually quite amusing! But before I dive in, let me first introduce you to my middle-aged workout friends…

Plasty

Plasty is purely plastic. Her boobs, her lips, her ass are all fake. She dyes her hair blonde and wears make-up to work out. PLASTY never sweats. According to her, ladies don’t sweat because ladies don’t need to work that hard, that’s what men are for. For a woman who doesn’t sweat, Plasty is as thin as a match-stick probably because she just eats steam and injects plastic into her veins to keep from absorbing any fat.

Plasty also gets really mad when she is behind me in circuit-station workouts (moving from one exercise to another). I sweat a lot and she gets annoyed that my sweat is sometimes left behind on a yoga mat or weight bench. She has never said this, remember silence is key here, but her eye rolls and disgusted sighs tip me off to her sweat displeasure. I, in return, leave as much of my sweat behind as possible.

Mama

Mama goes to the gym because she is trying to loose her “baby-weight”. Her youngest child was born 7 years ago. Mama also rocks a mean-camel toe…I’m talking her spandex is screaming for help because it’s at the point of no return. Mama of course drives a half SUV/half mini-van (with turbo) completed with the animated avatars of her family members on the back windshield.

Queefy

Queefy’s name might give away her claim to fame. Queefy always Queefs (vagina farts) in workout class. Usually it happens during our ab and core exercises. When it happens, she always giggles and tries to play it off, “My silly shoe keeps making that silly noise!

I like Queefy, but someone needs to tell her the truth. We know you just Queefed, Queefy and hey, its happens. but seriously, it’s awkward. I think you need to get some sort of plug…I’m sure a tampon would do the trick.

And finally, this brings us to the last gym lady-My enemy…

She might as well look like this

She might as well look like this

Competitive Connie

Competitive Connie is my enemy and I am hers…but we haven’t verbally established this, again silence is key here.

Competitive Connie is the one woman who needs to compete for everything and anything.

Have a great joke to tell? Competitive Connie has a better one. Just upped your weight in bench pressing? Competitive Connie’s been doing that for months.Met a celebrity and got something on sale? Competitive Connie met three and got it cheaper. YOUR story is NEVER as GREAT as Competitive Connie’s…

Hence, why no one likes Competitive Connie…

I don’t like her because she goes out of her way to make everyone look stupid.

The other ladies don’t like her because she hired a cleaning lady 4x a week (apparently, this is a no-no in the world of housewives).

Maid Gives Thumbs Up for Cleanliness

Long story short, one day, the ladies got so tired of it, that they nominated me to try and OUT-DO Competitive Connie.

For days during my drive to and from work I planned my strategy. Since I couldn’t defeat her physically, I would do it with a story she couldn’t outshine. A story so powerful, there was nothing she could say to Top-it.

When the day had arrived, I took a deep breath as I sat on to my mat and lifted my medicine ball, preparing for abs. I gave a nod to Plasty, Queefy and Mama letting them know it was time. They excitedly looked at one another; This was the day their nightly phone conversations had waited for, the day That Girl Ryan would defeat Competitive Connie and give hope to all the housewives of the world (Well, in a 15 mile radius at least).

I licked my lips and began my story….

ME: “So Connie, I was excited to tell you that I just found out I’m related to Miley Cyrus. She is a cousin of mine through a distant relative who just happened to also invent the vacuum, you know the vacuum that whirls in a circle and pivots behind couches? I believe you told us you have one of those no? Anyway, when I found this out, I decided to vacuum my living room. When I emptied the vacuum bag, I discovered $50! That same day after the dishes, laundry and lunches were completed, I went to DSW and bought these $50 heels that were marked down from $150”.

By the time I finished my verbal strike, I was out of breath. There was no way she was going to out-shine THAT story. Competitive Connie stopped her exercise and turned directly in my direction; she understood that I had just declared war.

The ladies and I waited in silence holding our breath, Queefy holding hers a little more, I’m sure, because we were doing crunches.

Would Competitive Connie collapse from defeat? Or would she take the bait?

That fucker took the bait.

Well, that was quite a day for you, That Girl Ryan and such an interesting story! (SMILE) It actually reminds me of the time I went to my uncle’s house, who is also Babe Ruth’s son. He invented the broom! The broom came BEFORE the vacuum, if I have my facts in order. Speaking of the vacuum you referenced, I just threw it out..pity. It actually is a crappy, horrible vacuum and i wouldn’t recommend it to MY WORST enemy. (SMILE). You should probably focus a little more on completing your abs, your only at 55 and I am already on 75 and almost done.

As she trailed off on her bullshit, I sat in total disbelief that I had lost to a housewife. I crafted that story over a 3 day period just to make sure I could out-do her and she thought of that shit in 30 seconds.

This is accurate

This is accurate

Not only that, but I had let my gym ladies down. Now their day would continue to be boring, surely they were looking forward to their phone-gossip schedules that would have lasted well into the evening before their husbands returned home from work.

The next few days, Competitive Connie really ramped up her plan for total destruction. When I would lift a weight, she would get a bigger weight and lift it longer. When I would jog instead of walk to my next circuit station, she would sprint. I even ran into her at the grocery store a few nights ago. She smiled (obviously fake) and I smiled back (even more fake). We chatted about the weather and wished each other a nice evening but in my mind, I knew there was a different meaning…

The weather seems quite odd latelyTranslation: You are really going to try and out-do me?

This sunshine won’t last long, its about time the temperature starts to lowerTranslation: You may be the under-dog that Queefy, Mama and Plasty are rooting for, but you will never defeat me.

Have a good night, I will see you bright and early!Translation: Bring your game, bitch.

I have never had an invisible housewife conflict so I am a bit lost when it comes to these things. But sooner or later, I’m going to set the gym ladies FREE, away from the reign of Competitive Connie.

But until that time, the drama continues….

housework

Toddlers Are Evil

13 Sep

I have been neglecting my blog…I sincerely apologize to those of you who have sent emails asking where I have been. But this little person in my life has been keeping me quite busy lately.

Bingo!! It’s my daughter, who has recently been taking full advantage of being a terrible toddler.

Listen, I have never been a fan of kids, I think they are a lot of work. Don’t get me wrong, I love my own kid and don’t mind the work because shes like a mini version of me, but kids in general…eh.

As my daughter gets older, she teaches me a lot about little people (little people like children, not midgets-but if anyone knows more about midgets, please, educate me.)

Like the fact that infants are boring, babies are adorable and toddlers are evil. No, I’m not kidding, toddlers are fucking evil. Gosh darn they are so cute and seem innocent, but if you live with them, you know what I’m talking about.

Of course some people would disagree, but only because they probably don’t have little ones.

You see, there are two kinds of people in this world; those who have kids and those who don’t. There is a clear distinction. Like the fact that people with children have to have a great sense of humor.

Why? you ask.

Well because chances are they have been peeded on, vomited on and definitely shit on. Would you continue to work a job if someone shit on you? Probably not, yet parents continue.

Take my advice, once someone poops on you and you still love them anyway, you see everything in a different light.

So when my daughter was finally potty trained, I thought we had gotten thru hard times, but like most of my time as a parent, I was proven wrong.

We have entered into the gates of 3-year-old Hell. My bundle of joy is starting to become a hand bag of demons. I know that sounds harsh, but just the other night I had a very interesting conversation with my toddler:

Her: ” I want to tell you something”

Me: “Ok…what?”

Her: “I want to eat your brains”

At first I giggled it off, assuming she said something else that I misinterpreted, but then she came into my bedroom one night, leaned over my bed and said, “Mom, I want to eat your brains“.

What innocent human being says I want to eat your brains? What the hell is that about? All I know if this Zombie thing DOES happen, we know whose side she is going to be on and now I’m considering buying a helmet to wear to bed.

Brains...I mean beans anyone?

Brains…I mean beans anyone?

Found this protective-brain helmet on sale for $9.99!

Found this protective-brain helmet on sale for $9.99!

Speaking of brains, toddler’s think in a very different type of way, borderline OCD. Like when it comes time for hygiene, something my child doesn’t believe in, there is a ritual that must be completed or the whole thing goes to shit.

It took me over 3 months to figure out, but I believe I have it down now:

Step 1: the word “Bath” or “Shower” MUST NOT be mentioned before 7pm; or else she still has energy to fight it.

Step 2: each bath toy, which include: A Ken barbie with chewed feet (kudos to our dog, Levi), two mermaids that are topless (again kudos to Levi) and a rubber duck, must be shown, introduced and placed on the side of the bathtub.

Step 3: DO NOT EVEN ask her to remove clothing by herself. She tries once and screams bloody murder that she can’t get it off and she can’t breathe because its on her body. Even though its been on her body all day-now its extremely constricting. I must remove clothing myself.

Step 4: enter her into the bath slowly, one toe at a time. It doesn’t matter that this procedure takes 5-10 minutes, it must be completed this way.

Step 5: YOU MUST immediately scrub underneath her armpits to make her laugh

Step 6: The drain switch has to be turned on and off by her only-or you will be paying for it all night.

Step 7: Towel must cover all body parts and she must be carried to her room like a “baby” (which means like a small infant).

If you follow these steps, you will have a successful bath.

So when people question why I only wash my kid like 2-3x a week; I tell them to shove it.

And You Thought Rain Man Was Annoying...

And You Thought Rain Man Was Annoying…

I wish that was the worst of it, but we are just getting started. My toddler has made ME and my husband very bad people. Bad because we have had no choice but to become pathological liars. I think I tell at least 10 lies between the time when I arrive home from work and the time I leave for work in the morning.

Explaining simple reason to a 3 or 4 year old is impossible, they don’t accept anything you say as truth because… well… you saw the bath ritual right? Enough said.

So I have to lie about certain things, like when my kid asks me why she can’t sleep in my bed, I tried to explain that it’s not healthy to sleep in bed with your parents. Plus mom and dad like to cuddle, talk about their day and do…other things. Clearly, this answer was not good enough, so i had no choice but to tell her that I have a monster under my bed who might eat her if she sleeps with us. I have yet to be asked that question again.

Here some other bullshit that has worked…

Toddler Question: Why do I have to take a shower?

Parent Answer: Because your hair will get so dirty it will fall out.

Toddler Question: Why do I have to sit in my seat at the restaurant until you and dad are done eating dinner?

Parent Answer: Because the manager will come over and make you wash dishes for the rest of your life.

Toddler Question: Why do I have to stop asking you the question why?

Parent Answer: Because if you don’t I might throw you out the window.

The bottom line is…this shit works. Don’t Judge.

Ain't Nothing Wrong With a Monster under the Bed.

Ain’t Nothing Wrong With a Monster under the Bed.

Ok, Ok, so clearly I am not striving to be the PERFECT parent…but I always hoped to be a decent one that my kid would appreciate. Yet, as she gets older, I can’t help but notice she makes me look like an asshole to complete strangers.

I was always under the impression that it was a parent’s job to embarrass their kids, something I am completely looking forward to, but again, I stand corrected.

I have a toddler that can’t keep secrets and hasn’t learned the rules of “What is said at home, stays at home.”

Before moving to preschool this year, my daughter’s last babysitter was of Asian decent. She has an accent, is about 4’9, around 50 years old and is the cutest woman EVER. My husband and I have a special imitation of her because she is a notable character. Obviously, our impression included an Asian accent. My toddler never took any interest in the impression and never acknowledged that it even existed. So we would do it, frequently at home, for a good laugh.

I think you know where I am going with this, so let me re-inact this classic event…

Scene: Babysitter’s house

When: After work

Who: My Toddler, Me and The Babysitter

Toddler: “Hey Miss babysitter, your Chinese… did you know that?”

Babysitter: “Why yes, I am Chinese how did you know that?”

At this point in the conversation, I immediately recognized that it was too late to stop the train wreck about to happen. For a brief moment, I considering running out the door, never to return.

Toddler: “Because my mom and dad said you walk and talk like this…hong kong chong ching fhong…”

The feeling of embarrassment from that moment surpassed anything I had ever felt in my entire lifetime.

That crazy kid said what?!

That crazy kid said what?!

So what have we learned so far, My kid is 3 and she’s devious. Sure, I think that’s a fair assessment, but what’s worse is that she is smart, WAY too smart for her own good.

I love shopping and treat myself every now and again to expensive purchases…like shoes. From previous experiences, I have learned not to bring my kid with me to the mall when I can help it. But this one particular time, i needed some new shoes and brought her along.
All went well until she announced that she had to throw up…like throw up right NOW.

Now, there is an innate parental reaction when your child says these words. You grab the first bag you can find or scurry over to the nearest trashcan. Not wanting another bad parenting scandal, I raced her out of the store to avoid vomit chunks landing on any articles of clothing and leaned her over the nearest mall trashcan. Not only did I look trashy as hell, but I was screaming at her to throw up IN the trashcan. I then realized that chances were, my kid’s vomiting aim was no where near the skill of a post-college adult and would need a second vomit barrier than just the trashcan. So in my moment of panic, I threw my $190 pair of heels on to the mall hallway floor so I could use the bag as a catcher.

As I lifted her up to throw up in the bag over the trashcan, I noticed a variety of silent bystanders watched in total disbelief; disbelief over the fact that an expensive pair of shoes were lying in the middle of the mall floor or that I was holding my 3 year old over a public trashcan. As I braced myself for the upheaval of a chicken finger lunch, my daughter started laughing hysterically and said, “Got you mom. I don’t have to throw up!”

I went home that night and Googled; Is Parent-Abuse a real thing?

Guess what, It is.

Puke Happens.

Puke Happens.

So the point of this is to show you the kinds of shit I do in my free time- hold my kid over public trashcans and worry about her eating my brain. But also, that the real life lessons you learn are from Toddlers. So pay attention America, I think we all could take a little direction from these tiny demons.

Now all of you need to go and thank your mothers for putting up with all your shit.

There She Is...and SASS is her middle name.

There She Is…and SASS is her middle name.

The Social Matrix

27 Jun

Readers-I entered myself into a blog contest, a creative writing blog contest. I know my usual style is profane, raunchy and personal humor writing, but i figured, Hey, let’s try something new!.

Anyways, I am sharing it with you all if your interested.

However, I must warn you: There are no pictures (But That Girl Ryan, how do we read this 2,000 word entry without pictures?!) Well, the writing should paint some pictures in your mind (this is my artsy response to your question)…give it a try.

No Pictures? I Can't Do It!!!

No Pictures? I. Can’t. Do. It.

Blog Contest Background:

The story has to be about a guy named John, who has amnesia. He wakes up everyday and doesn’t remember anything about himself.

The One Rule, You must use this sentence in your entry:

When I left, I woke up for the first time, again.

Let me know what you think! See the other entries here: http://people.ign.com/bulltoad

It was 6:05AM and the sun started to shine through the window. Damn Sunlight, it’s the bane of my existence. For most, sunlight means the start of a new day, a day filled with potential. For me, it’s nothing more than the start of my nightmare.

I took a deep breath preparing myself for the foreign feeling of not knowing who I was. Slowly, I stretched my hands across both sides of me, feeling the silky, soft sheets of my bed until I reached a barrier.

The barrier was warm and soft, it felt like the side of a human being. My heart stopped, I was afraid to open my eyes. Who is this person lying next to me? One eyed peeked just enough to see a naked woman sleeping on her belly. I scanned up her bare back…she was blonde…and beautiful. Quickly, I jumped out of bed and got dressed wanting to avoid this awkward morning-after, confrontation.

My head pounded and my vision was fuzzy, Wow, last night must have been a good time, I thought to myself. I could still taste the whiskey on my breath as it parched the inside of my mouth.

Dragging myself into the bathroom, I looked into the mirror. Who is this person? I hadn’t recognized myself for what felt like a long time and It made me sick knowing that I wake up every day feeling the same way. I looked into my own eyes, they were a deep colored blue and had glazed over as if they hadn’t been alive in months.

My thoughts were interrupted by the mysterious woman scrambling to put on her clothes.

Hi john, I know you don’t know me, but just listen. Don’t leave this house or go anywhere. I’ll explain everything when I get back, I won’t be long.” She hurried out the front door before I had a chance to speak.

How did she know my name? Who am I?

Staying in this house all day was not an option, I didn’t want to be alone with this stranger staring back at me in the mirror. Today, I would find out who I was; learn the truth behind my existence.

I had no idea where I was headed to, but I walked out the door and jumped into the first car I spotted parked outside. With the keys conveniently in the ignition, I felt my body take over. Though I had no idea how to drive a car, my movements were automatic. As the car roared forward, the gas pedal underneath my foot, a robotic voice came over the stereo speakers:

Hello, John, where would you like to go today?”

Holy shit, I thought to myself, who is this?

Hello-whose there?”

Hello, john, where would you like to go today?”

I didn’t know what to say, who was this woman? How did she know my name?

I’d really like to make my head stop pounding.”

Sure , John, re-routing to the nearest coffee shop

She guided me through an urban area where hundreds of people were rushing to a destination. I had a longing to be amongst them, just so I could have that feeling of knowing I was expected to be somewhere.

I parked the car and headed into the coffee shop. Looking around, each person was sitting at a table, zoned out. Their eyes focused on a screen in front of them. Some were pounding their fingers furiously on the screen, taking no time to pause. I walked in further to get a closer look at these screens. Each screen was outline with pictures, words and ads. What were they all staring at? I was so mesmerized by their intense focus, I plopped next to a young male and inquired about the screen.

You like this model?” the young male said to me

I’m sorry?”

You like this laptop model? It’s the newest edition. Such a fast connection and it links to all your social networks at once!”

I had no idea what this kid was talking about. He must have seen the complexity on my face and continued to explain by pulling out another smaller device with the same type of screen.

I just got this bad boy yesterday…fully loaded, smartphone. My twitter account simultaneously connects to my brain and can post what I am thinking. Watch this” He pointed to his screen and closed his eyes. As he held the device, a secret, coded message appeared on the screen. I suspect it was part of this “Twitter” language, one that I was not fluent in.

It read:

Cool Jack: Just trying out my new @smartphone edition! #YOLO

The young kid opened his eyes and waited for my reaction. I gave him my best smile, but felt nothing but disgust, who made technology that could access waves in the human brain?

Not a fan of Twitter?” he asked in disappointment.

No

Not even Facebook? EVERYONE uses Facebook!

No, what’s the Facebook?”

It’s called Facebook…drop the- “The”.. and it’s basically a full population database.

Everyone has one?”

Dude, everyone! It’s the only way to identify yourself these days

How do I get to The Facebook?”

HA, get to FACEBOOK…remember, drop the- “the”…you just have to get on the internet and type in the address.”

Ok-thanks for your help

I rushed out the door and got back into the car.

“Hello, John, where would you like to go?” the mysterious voice asked me.

“To the Facebook. I need to go to the Facebook, right now.”

“Im sorry John, I’m not sure what you mean. To the Race Park?”

“No the facebook!”

“I’m sorry, I can’t understand what you mean”

Forget it, robot woman couldn’t understand me, what was the point of her anyway? Surely someone else would know where to find this Book of Faces. Out of nowhere, a man pulled me inside a store. “WELCOME! To wireless central, how may I help you today?”

“ I am trying to get to The Facebook-I was told I can get there thru the internet?”

“Ah, yes you can get on Facebook by purchasing a Smartphone! All our Smartphone’s come equipped with the internet as well. These are all our smart phones” he pointed to a section of screened devices.

“So I can only get to The Facebook from Smartphones, not dumbphones?”

“Haha, you’re so funny! I guess that’s a good way to put it, but no, you can’t”

 “I’ll take it then”

As he gave me the device, I felt a sense of excitement. THIS was the key to finding out who I was.

I pressed some buttons on the phone and another robotic voice came on.

“Hello, how can I help you?”

“I want to find The Facebook”

“Sure, do you mean the address for Facebook?”

“Yes”

“Would you like directions?”

“Yes”

As I began my journey, I passed several newsstands with front page articles written about this “Book of Faces”. Some of the article titles were…

Facebook, to take over the world!

The man behind Facebook’s newest invention.

Is the new Facebook technology going to ruin mankind?

This place really seemed to be a big deal, it was bound to have the information I was looking for.

When I came upon a glass building, my device had told me that I had arrived at my destination. As I looked up, I saw the words I had been searching for: FACEBOOK Headquarters

I walked in and was greeted by a young girl at the front desk.

“Is this The Facebook?” I asked her.

She giggled, “Yes, this is Facebook-Drop the-“The”, how can I help you?”

“I am here to find out who I am, I have been told that The Facebook would help me do that”

Before she could answer, the phone rang.

“Hold on a minute” she said.

“Hello? Hi, Ms. Hanson…o, yes….” She glanced back up at me “I understand…sure, I will send him right up” She hung up the phone.“John, please follow me”

I didn’t speak a word as I followed the young girl into the elevator. The doors opened and there were tons of people typing at those weird screens I had seen earlier. As I continued down a hallway, the people around me seemed to stop and stare. Their whispers flew through the rest of the office like wildfire…

That’s him…yea, I saw a whole documentary about his life…total genius…he’s going to change the world…looks older in person…what a brave guy.

The young girl stopped in front of an office door and directed me to go in. I looked up to see the naked woman from earlier this morning standing behind a desk.

“John, John, John…your arrival is right on time everyday! I don’t know how you do it, but the research team is fascinated.”

“Who are you? How do you know me?” I demanded.

She rolled her eyes and sighed “We do this every day John, it’s getting rather annoying. Maybe one day you will actually listen to me and NOT leave the house.”

I sat, feeling anxious for what she was about to tell me.

“You are part of a facebook experiment, one that you created! Soon after taking over the company, we decided our users needed more, something so pioneer that Twitter, Instagram and all those other social losers couldn’t keep up with. Our plan was to re-write every Facebook user’s brain so it could live, breathe, eat the social network. We are still in the beginning stages with this experiment, but we already have erased your mind to re-program it back into the network matrix. Soon you will be able to get a full facebook profile on every stranger you meet. It will be delivered straight to your conscious mind. Eventually, our brains will be programmed like computers so there is no need for any material devices.

“So people want to trade in their natural abilities for a computerized mind? I am responsible for The Facebook Experiment?”

“Yes, facebook-drop the-“the””

My heart began to race as I stood up “Why would anyone want to live in this social network?”

“Because, people are obsessed! They are always on the network and wanted Facebook to integrate more into their lives! You are a genius and our work with this experiment is a technological break-through!”

I felt sick as I stood up to leave, finding the first exit out of the Facebook building.

When I left, I woke up for the first time, again. I woke up to realize that my nightmare each and every day is something I created.

As I walked back into the city, I wanted nothing more than the feeling of being alive, knowing when the blanket of night approached, my memories of feeling real would be covered. How could I have traded pure reality for a programmed one?

When I reached the entrance to  “The Mind Eraser Bar”, I figured I should go in for a drink. The smell of whiskey and cigarettes filled my lungs as I opened the door.

“Evening John, the usual?” asked the bartender.

The bartender knew my usual order? I must come here every day…but for some reason the familiarity gave me a sense of comfort.

Around 12am, I stumbled out of the bar, staying just long enough to feel numb from the truth and walked into a tattoo parlor. I told the artist I needed a permanent reminder on my arm, just one lasting memory.

Perplexed, the tattoo artist asked, “Sure, what were u thinking? A dragon? A skull? You look like a skull type of guy”

“No, I want a reminder, a reminder so permanent, nothing can erase it. I scribbled the words on a piece of paper and handed it to him.

 It read: “Do Not Search For The Facebook, Today

“Do you mean Facebook? I think you drop the -“the”

I laid in the chair and fell asleep as he scribed a note for the stranger in the mirror.

I Got 99 Problems and A Dick Ain’t One

12 Jun

This is a highly inappropriate blog post…I try really hard not to include too many raunchy and profane topics all in one sitting, but…. I really don’t care.

There comes a time in every girls life when she has a particular thought, a thought that I believe is very valid, but nonetheless a simple thought…

What would I do if I had a penis for a day?

Before you read on, you must ask yourself how your feeling about the penis at this very moment…if weenies are scary , you dislike them or are grossed out by the visual thought of them in anyway…Don’t read on.

If you’re like me and wish you had one in a non-lesbian/non-transgender way…by all means, have a BALL… or Two 🙂

I find the male part quite amusing probably because I don’t-nor will ever– have one.

Not only that, but men talk about their penises like they are the best thing since his- and -her lube!

Remember that song from Harold and Kumar? “My dick” by Mickey Avalon? In his song he sings this line: “We got Dicks like Jesus”.

Now who wouldn’t want a Dick like Jesus? Seriously, they should start changing those WWJD? shirts and instead put… I Got A Penis Like Jesus. Those shirts would sell out in a day. Catholics, Christians, Jews and hell-even the Mormons would buy it.

38653793

And If you don’t know who this guy is…shame on you

No wonder us gals are so curious, when do you hear the general female population raving about the greatness of the vagina?…and Alanis Morrissette doesn’t count.

So anyway, all this thought about the Main Vein, got me wondering…what if girl’s had penises? Obviously we would rule the world, that’s a given…Brain+Beauty+Balls…The possibilities would be endless really, but before we dive into that, let’s first explore why a woman wouldn’t want a penis…

Penis Problem #1: It’s incredibly ugly

There’s not much to say here…penises are just…blah. They slightly remind me of an elderly worm.

Wanna Play? EW

Wanna Play? EW

Penis Problem #2: It’s Deceiving

Romans do a great job of depicting this flaw…just look at the Statue of David. David is incredibly tall, muscular, sexy, curly hair… but has the tiniest penis ever. Now, to be fair, it doesn’t mean that David wasn’t packing some serious beef, but maybe David was a grower…not a show-er. Still,you will never know the truth.

Poor guy didn't have a chance to let the world know.

Poor guy didn’t have a chance to let the world know.

Penis Problem #3: size DOES matter

I love it when guys ask this question: Does size really matter to girls? YES. If you say differently, your a liar. In short…a guy can be the hot, and all around great, but he will never be datable if he’s got a French fry in his pants. For all my single ladies out there, how much does it suck when you go out with a guy on a few dates, spend all your time thinking about him, dreaming up fairy tale scenarios, only to find out when you sneak a peek, there is simply no future a-head.

Waste. Of. Time.

Damn Right

Damn Right

And there you have my ANTI-PENIS list.

Let’s explore the Positives-List.

Penis Pro #1- You Can Pee On Everything

I think males completely take this task for granted. Men can pee anywhere at anytime…out the window driving…in a bottle…on a wall…in the woods…off a bridge. My days of hovering over a toilet seat would be gone if I had a penis. Not only would I pee on all types of objects, but id definitely pee on annoying people. Screaming little children for example… If every kid was fearful of getting peed on at all times, you better believe they would shut up real quick.

I can see it now…

38651875

Penis Pro #2: Absolutely play this game…All Day…Everyday…

Penis Pro #3: Cock Slap

Is this a real thing? When someone says, “I going to cock slap you in the face” Can you actually cock-slap someone in the face? I’d like to embark on this mystery to find out for myself.

Penis Pro #4: Penis Shadow Puppets

Hand shadow puppets are fun, but Penis Shadow Puppets are better.

This could be very do-able

This could be very do-able

Penis Pro #5:New-Business Ventures

Why hasn’t anyone made a clothing line for ding-a-lings? I know it sounds crazy, but seriously we dress up animals, paint our nails, wear leg warmers, dress up our hair…it’s about time for a penis clothing line. I think I’d call it…Pocket Rocket & Co.

Penis Pro #6: Boners

Boners are so cool, they are even a little magical. You can just walk into a shoe store and BAM…Boner. Then like an hour later walk into a coffee shop, library, car wash and be like BAM, BAM, BAM…Boner! Seriously, this is the best…Popping boners.

38652855

And my conclusion…having a penis is more productive than having a vagina…There are just more things to accomplish. Ladies have got to start stepping it up on the kegels and making these types of talents happen for us.

But at least there is one truth that will always trump the male parts…a truth so superior, men don’t stand a chance.

There is Power in The Pussy…And don’t you ever forget it.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/06/12/daily-prompt-law/

*UPDATE* Invisible Fences, Make Good Neighbors

10 Jun

Just when I thought all my kitty problems were gone…I got another knock on my door…with more cat shenanigans.

Guess who? Yep!!

That Crazy Fucking Cat Lady and her subordinate husband.

Knock, Knock...Guess WHO?! MEOW!

Knock, Knock…Guess WHO?! MEOW!

My first thought, Crazy Cat Lady, must have gotten my CAT-VICTIM package. She is coming over to say thank -you, how sweet. Hopefully she left the cat hair at home this time.

I open the door…

“Hi there, just wanted to come by and thank you for the gift. I thought it was really sweet and kitty loves the toys you gave her! Look, Look at this picture of her playing with the cat-nip Squirrel!!

O, and by the way… buying an invisible fence…you didn’t have to do that!! That was above and beyond”

Thank God kitty likes the toys-Crazy Cat Lady taking that picture made her day and will smooth this whole thing over. Phew, looks like we are clear of this one!

“No problem, it was the least we could do! How’s miss kitty doing anyway?”

She started to tear up which made me want to laugh. Partly because her face wrinkles up like Claire Dane’s in Homeland when she cries.

My Cat! My Cat...BOO HOO BOO HOO

My Cat! My Cat…BOO HOO BOO HOO

“She is good-we actually brought her to the vet. She got an X-Ray and a full emergency exam. Vet sees nothing wrong. The thing that really killed me...is when the vet found the teeth marks. She said it was definitely from a dog, so even though we didn’t see your dog attack, it was most likely him.”

Wait a fucking second…there were no witnesses to this?! I have spent all day watching my dogs get shocked by their new invisible fence because you THINK my dog was guilty?!  I started to get angry and wanted her to finish up tear-fest 2013 so she would leave my porch.

“Well, like I said, we feel really bad and the fence will make sure this never happens again. Thanks for stopping by!”

Her husband’s voice shakes as he says, “Um, well we actually wanted to talk to you about the vet bill”

I spin around and my inner voice speaks loud…THESE PEOPLE HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME

“We know your an animal lover and all. We know you would understand this whole situation. We feel it’s fair to split the bill with us and half the bill would be $315.00”

They just showed up tonight to ask for money…Bitches. And what kind of vet did they take this cat to?! Did they fly in a cat-dog attack specialist for the vet exam?

“Ok….” I was at a lost for words. My inner voice kicks in again…Just be honest about this.

“Sure we will definitely pay for half of the bill…”

Ah, shit it’s happening. My inability to be confrontational face to face with people older than me. Stop being such a pussy, just tell the lady to take that bill and the cat hair and shove it up her ass.

“…I think it’s totally appropriate we help to pay the bill as well…”

Are you kidding me? Stop right now, tell her shes a greedy ass that is taking advantage of a young couple.

“…You were so right to come over and ask us to help on this, it’s the right thing to do…I’ll drop the check off in your mailbox. Have a great night, glad we could move past this!”

UGH, your so hopeless, I give up, come talk to me again when you grow some balls

Sometimes you just gotta listen

Sometimes you just gotta listen

 

I walk inside, ashamed of my cowardliness and spot Levi, looking right at me.

“You know Levi, if you finished the job-we wouldn’t be paying a vet bill right now…better work on those skills in case that cat decides to come within your invisible fence barrier”

So here I am, writing yet another letter along with a very, expensive check.

Dear Kerri (Yes, I found out her stupid name and it ends with an I. I don’t trust people who names end in I)

Again, I’m glad your cat is OK (But now not really).

In this envelope is the check for $315 (Half of the extremely expensive medical bill for your bald cat, which I hope by the way, stays bald) Hope we can move past this (we wont, I think you people are a waste of space and I will never lend you any cups of sugar or eggs…fuck you)

Sincerely,

Your neighbors (who now hate your guts and hope your cat gets eaten by a wild animal or drowns in the Holy Lake)

Invisible Fences Make PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE neighbors

EPSON scanner image

Green with Envy, The Jafees

16 May

When I started blogging, I thought I was THE SHIT..Like super-star potential awesome…I hear this is a common symptom in the Generation Y age groups. But then I started reading other people’s blogs (OPB).  And they make me sick with their talent, humor and amusing stories-yuck.

You down with OPB? Ya, You Know Me

You down with OPB? Ya, You Know Me

This morning, Go Jules Go, granted 6 bloggers the Jafee award.

The Jafees! is given out to bloggers by bloggers. Jafee stands for “Jealous As F***” . This award symbolizes that someone out there-creepy blog readers like me– Are jealous of other bloggers ideas and talents.

I like it, its about time we are start sharing our resentful tendencies with one another. So instead of sitting here at my computer, thinking of how much I hate my favorite bloggers (because I’m just envious that I didn’t think of their ideas) I’ve decided to be the bigger person and let my favorite bloggers know that their talent pisses me off and to tone it down-give other people a chance to shine, god dammit.

Yea, so I think your pretty stellar. Go You.

Yea, so I think your pretty stellar. Go You.

564472_129960310497100_1659563866_n1. Don of All Trades

I’m so jealous of Don.

Don is this guy that- I assume is pretty old- but he makes parenting look cool…Do you know how hard it is to make parenting look cool? The snot, the tantrums and the vomit…he makes it all look glamorous.

All his kids have these nifty nicknames…especially the one called “G$”. I’d give my left arm to be called “G$“. Secretly, I think hes the male, much older, version of me…He’s got ADD, talks trashy AND clearly likes to drink…definitely my type of blogger. Go ahead Don, keep being amazing, I dare ya.

coffee_pic2. The Jiggly Bits

Teeny Bikini is fucking hysterical. There is just no way other way to put it-the girl makes me pee my pants laughing. Her perspective on life and UN-matched sarcasm is enough to make any gal look mediocre. Every week, I wait by my email like a loser, ready for her next adventurous post- especially if it has to do with her RAD-Cat licking nipples. Girlfriend-you rock.

I'm pretty sure this is her 10th Jafee Award

I’m pretty sure this is her 10th Jafee Award

3. Go Jules Go

Who isn’t jealous of Go Jules Go? She’s like the popular girl in high school that everybody wants to be. She’s blonde, funny AND can rock a stache better than any guy I know. When I first started my blogging journey less than 4 months ago, I frequently would visit Jule’s blog. This chick has like 5 husbands and has a dog named Uncle Jesse. Seriously- your perfect life makes me vomit.

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4. The Jittery Goat

Kenton Lewis is nothing but pure talent. He is always the first to post on WordPress’s The Daily Post and that just boils my blood. Most days, I have to do this thing…its called work… and can’t participate, but Kenton Lewis  has his post written and perfected five minutes after the topic is released…What The Hell Kenton? Either this dude is a mind reader or he’s just that talented. Plus, his mom is 99  and he is a published author…I just can’t handle it.

962937_10151385866695588_352634079_nlogo5. Small Chick, Big Deals

Sara is a personal friend of mine from college. I knew her when she began her blog and have watched it take off into a huge success. Her restaurant reviews and connections with local spots in New Jersey is enough to make anybody cringe with envy. She gets free clothes from clothing boutiques AND free food. Plus, she is one of those skinny girls that will never get fat-no matter what she eats. UGH Annoying.

If your a blogger…spread the jealousy!! This award can be given to anyone-by anyone! Rules HERE.

What bloggers are so freaking annoyingly- awesome that you want to give them a Jafee?

The Grocery Store War

1 May

grocerystore

Friends, I have a new hobby…Ive decided to start a new diet! So far its great but I compiled a quick Pro/Con list to share:

PROS:

1. Less Pimples

2. More Energy

3. Fast Weight Loss

CONS:

1. The toilet bowl has become my new friend

2. My own bowels have become my worst enemy

3. I am in the grocery store A LOT, like 3.5 hours a week…F.M.L.

#3 might be the reason I stop my new diet…

I HATE the grocery store, like I want to burn the place down, kind of hate. It’s gotten to the point that when I enter the doors to a grocery store, I hear a voice in my head: “Happy Shopping, May the Odds Be Ever In Your Favor”

So I’m, going to let you explore why I have a deep despise for this place, in an unique kind of way of course…by making a “Hate Poem” about the shopping market…Enjoy

The all too familiar view

The all too familiar view

Dearest Grocery Store,

Iv decided to write you a poem about how much I loathe you,

I felt it was more appropriate in a form of a poem, because I hate those too…

I walk into your doors as they slowly slide open,

only to find that half the grocery carts are all broken

Taking the one with the squeakiest wheel,

is about as disturbing as Oprah’s sex appeal…

Oprah, Work it Girl

Oprah, Work it Girl

Turning down the aisle to start on my mission,

picking up first package of free-range chicken

I bet these chickens felt lucky to run around and trot

thinking they’d never end up in anyone’s cooking pot

As I’m throwing the package into my cart,

I suddenly get a whiff of the smallest fart.

Ew, how gross, I think in my head,

The smell is so toxic, I might drop dead

How dare these deadly crop dusters pollute my lungs,

Farting in the grocery store should be as illegal as assault guns.

As I run away from these deadly gases leaking from a stranger’s ass

I find myself in another situation that makes me want a shot-glass…

Little babies and toddlers sitting in their cart seats,

scream at the top of their lungs for their mom to buy a treat

Oh My God, how annoying these kids can be

Yet, there mothers never give them the third degree

Their shrieks and cries make me start to see red,

And all I can think about is whacking these kids right in the head

I’m not that kind of person, I shouldn’t think that way,

But they are so bad, someone should beat them with a cafeteria tray…

O Yea, you know these kids

O Yea, you know these kids

As I enter into the produce section, I start to fester,

Especially when I spot a female Fruit-Molester

She touches and smells and pokes and prods,

until the fruit is so damaged it resembles a smooshed frog.

Well, thanks for the germs you dirty bitch,

I’m sure those hands have been scratching in a place that shouldn’t itch.

Now that you have infected and touched all the good fruit,

all the rest of us are forced to purchase your germ-ridden brute…

So again I move on to find a row of FREE SAMPLES!

I look to see the opportunity to be first in line, is more than ample.

But as I approach the table with a promise of a snack,

I am ambushed by a herd of hungry human packs.

They gobble and grunt as they consume the samples remaining,

Pushing in line and stepping on your toes without explaining.

As your turn in line is almost up,

you look to find nothing left but an empty Dixie cup

NO! Damn you, all of you greedy pigs

I hope all your first born children die of SIDS.

Ok, that was harsh, I have to agree,

but these people are hogs and didn’t leave any for me!

If I can get any in time...

If I can get any in time…

Making it past the deli section, with great success,

you head over to check-out where you think you can rest.

But O no, the hung-over checkout boy has a different plan,

he isn’t very quick and slightly reeks of a Coors Light beer can.

To make it worse, I’m behind an old hag,

Who will take 30 minutes to pull a checkbook out of her bag

When I get to the front and its finally my turn,

the hung-over checkout boy says, “I betcha can’t wait till that old lady’s in a urn?”

He chuckles at his witty comment and continues to scan,

Telling me about the Supermarket’s “Awesome” pension plan

I nod and grin and wish I could press fast forward,

Because now he’s talking about the many uses of a human umbilical cord.

Just as I think I’m almost done,

he asks if I can donate $1 to the children’s hospital summer camp fund.

Well, how can I say no to sick children, I would look like a bitch,

This organization is smart, what a brilliant sales-pitch!

So once again I am guilt-ed to donate my cash,

So I give the boy the rest of my dollar bill stash…

3ryl6j

Finally, I’m out, finally I’m free,

it only took 2 hours but I’m strolling the parking lot buzzing like a bee

I look to my left and look to my right,

Entering the parking lot which resembles a bomb site

I throw my empty shopping cart into the nearest tree crease,

but am startled by the sound of the shopping cart POLICE

Excuse me Mam, please put your cart back in the designated area”,

his face was red and twitched like he was about to go into total conversation hysteria

My eyes scanned for the nearest cart drop-off, it was at least a five minute walk,

Is he for real? PSHH, this guy can piss off

I responded as calmly as I could,

but I’d had enough of this place and there’s no way this man would of understood

Sir, while I appreciate your job and all that you do,

you don’t understand what I’ve seen, you just don’t understand my angle of view

If you try and stop me as I get into my car,

I will kick so hard in the ass, it will leave a scar.

With that being said, its time for me to leave,

this place makes me sick and I think I might heave”

Goodbye dreaded store, goodbye for now,

I won’t miss you a bit, I give you my vow

Sincerely,

Your Loyal Shopper Girl Ryan

And THAT my friends are my thoughts on the grocery store.

Until next week….

k-bigpic
http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/05/02/daily-prompt-mad-libs/

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