Falling In With The Wrong Crowd

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Remember when you were younger and your parents warned you not to fall in with the ‘wrong crowd’?  They were referring, of course, to those that would screw up your life and bring you down and such.  Yeah, well, I think I have officially fallen in with the aforementioned crowd of undesirables.  This crowd of riff-raffs has drawn me in and just won’t let me go.  They are a bunch of nasty, negative bastards that I want to throat punch, yet I can’t seem to escape them.  They tell me how worthless I am, how ugly and stupid and unwanted I am.  They insist that blogging is pointless, that no one reads it or gives a crap what I have to say.  They demand I acknowledge how much better the world would be without me in it.  They make my bones ache and my heart weep.  They play back every moment of time spent with family and friends and gleefully point out every moment that could possibly be interpreted as indifference, annoyance, and/or disdain.  They remind me that no one wants to hear about my loneliness, my pain, or my fears and struggles.  And the very worst thing?  The thing that leaves me hopeless and full of despair?  I can’t escape them…ever.  Why, you ask?  Because they live in my head-they are me.  The me that simple must spew hatred and self-loathing whenever my depression and anxiety decide to get all over-whelming and controlling and such.  So, how do you avoid falling in with the ‘wrong crowd’ when it’s in your head?

So that’s pretty much why I have sucked at blogging.  Sorry folks.  I will really and truly try to do a bit better.  In other news, I will hopefully be getting my car back this weekend, so yay for that!  And yay for my bitter buddy, Tom, and his pal, who are going to save me darn near a grand by fixing my car (the mechanic guy I go to told me it would be that much just for labor, plus I would have to pay another couple hundred for parts!)  So thanks again Tom!!  Let’s see, what else? Dart just turned 15 on Sunday!  He’s lost some weight, but he’s still just as adorable as ever.

Randomosity:

Sadly, I got nothing.  I’ll try to do better next time. But I did give y’all some amusing pics, so there’s that.

Peace out, trout!

Introducing Wilhelm the Christmas Wiener! And Other Edge Of Your Seat Excitement From The World Of Me

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This is the one and only Wilhelm, the Christmas wiener!  I truly think he’s one of the most fabulously tacky Christmas decorations I have ever had the privilege of owning.  I spotted a display of these delightfully gaudy little fellas weeks ago and immediately knew I simply had to have one.  And there was a sale.  So now I have Wilhelm, who holds the honored spot of being one of the wackier items in my wacky Christmas decor/collection.  Yay for Wilhelm, the Christmas Wiener! (P.S…my neighbor down the street has a fancy light up Christmas wiener in their yard that really would be a lovely addition to my wacky Christmas stuff.  I admit, I’m jealous.  How dare the flaunt there fancy light-up Christmas wiener like that!?  Jerks.)

So I was watching Intervention the other day…shocking, I know.  Anywho, they had this chick on that has been a heroin addict for, like, a bunch of years.  In fact, she shot up heroin for so long that all her veins just up and quit on her which, of course, makes sense because there is only so many times a vein can get stabbed on a daily basis before it just says ‘fuck this shit’ and curls into its very own version of the fetal position and refuses to move anymore.  So once her veins quit working, this woman has to do something, right?  And we all know she didn’t take that as some sort of tell-tale sign that maybe she should, you know, not do drugs anymore.  Nope, instead she somehow comes to the conclusion that, since her veins are broken or whatever, she will simply take the heroin another way.  Now, you may assume she decided to smoke it or snort it or eat it or something, right?  Oh no!  Not this chick!  She decides to start taking the heroin ANALLY.  That’s right.  Her veins stop working and somehow she decides the next logical step is to take it via the ol’ poop shoot.  Like, how does that seem like the next option??  How do you go from veins right to anal??  Seriously, WTEFF????  And she was all casual and matter of fact about it, showing the camera how she just slides a syringe (sans needle, in case you were wondering, which should be obvious but you just never know really) under her skirt or up her shorts and just sends a delivery right on up her bahookey.  And she manages to do so without even the slightest shocking skin reveal!

A couple of weeks ago I had an interesting encounter with a customer at work.  He was purchasing some stuff and came up short on money.  He searched his pockets for a minute before whipping out a baggie of weed (marijuana for those who prefer non slang terminology).  He grinned stupidly and laughingly offered to pay with the weed.  I politely declined, pointing out I wouldn’t know what the hell to do with it anyway.  (Honestly, I have no idea how to use it or sell it, so what the hell would I do with it?  I don’t even know how exactly one goes about rolling a joint and I have even less of a clue how you would go about ‘smoking a bowl’.  Yes, folks, I am actually that cluelessly boring and nerdy and such.  I’m basically weed-tarded.)  At that point, he returned aforementioned still-illegal-in-our-state substance to his pocket, expressed his awe and admiration that I was clueless about utilizing the stuff, and waltzed out the door.  It had to be one of the strangest encounters I have had at this job to date.  And the fucker never did come up with the 60-some cents he still owed, though he did take his mostly-purchased items with him.  It’s cool though.  I know where he lives and he comes in pretty much every day, so I just made him fork it over the next time.  It is hard to keep a straight face when I wait on him nowadays though.  I mean, think about it.  He threw a bag of weed on the counter in front a cashier he knows nothing about with cameras all over the place.  If I cared enough to be a bitch, I totally could have turned his ass in!  What an idiot.

Randomosity:

 

My philodendron plant (Philomina) is still alive and well, so yay for me not killing so far!  I’m still feeling somewhat ashamed over the terminology weed-tarded, yet I keep giggling over it too.  My Christmas socks of the day–adorable Christmas trees.  Chloe’s new barbies are sure some sassy bitches.  You know, I don’t see many hyena or wombat Christmas ornaments…weird.  Now that I thought about it, a wombat Christmas ornament would be absolutely fricking adorable.  It’s weird how people think it’s weird that I named my car.  My pal Krystal’s new bf, Scott, seems like a nice lad…I really hope he is…I’d hate to have to hate him and such, especially since he thinks my new nickname should be Epic, which is kind of an epic sort of nickname really, and he seems to find me amusing and such.  Yeah, I really hope he isn’t a jackwagon.  I hate when you think you have almost all your Christmas shopping done and then you realize you were wrong and now you have to figure out what the hell to get the 8 people you just realized you totally did not shop for yet.  Siiigh. Night all!

That’s that, wombat!!

“It’s Between God And The Placenta”, Coolest Jailbirds Ever, Finally Driving, TWD…Just, Why???, And Other Tidbits of Tedium

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I totally socialized!  On purpose!  Yay for me!  So anyway, I went with my Asbys and we had dinner and played Cards Against Humanity with Mr. and Mrs. Tattoo Guy.  It was totally fun and I was only, like, one card from winning or whatever.  I also said what may be one of the niftiest things I have ever said.  While debating which card should win, I actually said, “It’s between God and the placenta”, which amused me to no end as soon as the words left my mouth.  I know, I’m a dork.

My new pals, Colten and Chelsie, are beyond awesome!  They are amusing and entertaining and all sorts of just plain delightful.  And then they got even cooler.  They actually went to jail for stealing….Trump signs!  They were trying to be neighborly and community-minded and purge our town of rubbish and the next thing they knew, they were headed for the clink!  I have been singing their praises ever since.  Yay for my new heroes!

I am finally driving my car!  And it’s totally legal and everything!  I have officially named her Betsy (Bettina Olivia St. Sassi, ’cause she’s kinda adorably bad-ass and sassy and boss and such).  So happy to have my own transportation finally!  Thanks again to the sis and adopted bro and Miss Sierra!

SPOILER ALERT!  SPOILER ALERT!

Oh, Walking Dead, why????  Why would you do such a cruel thing?  I have been a loyal fan since the beginning, forgiven you for killing off Tyreese and Beth and Hershel and Dale and so many others.  I can even forgive you for killing off the source of the best one-liners ever.  But Glenn??  GLENN?!?!?!?  Not cool, y’all.  Not. Fucking. Cool. wd-maggie-and-glenn

Randomosity:

So I’m watching this documentary called Hate Rising and I kinda want to punch somebody in the face.  You know a group of people are truly stupid when they not only believe whites are somehow superior, they actually cheer in AGREEMENT when a woman says, “We were given this land and now we need to take it back”….and she’s wasn’t joking nor was she Native American.  Just wow.  Robby got me a new philodendron (yay for spelling that right on the first try again!) and I have dubbed her Philomena.  Thanks again cuz!  I have scheduled my hand surgery for December.  I cannot wait for this stupid carpal tunnel crap to cease and desist.  Why don’t they make tooth filling stuff neon pink?  What, exactly, do the crown jewels include?  Why aren’t there more blue or purple plants?  Mean people suck balls.  I don’t want to work tomorrow, just ’cause I don’t.

Todaloo Kangaroos!

Possibly The Best Story EVER,Hooker Heels And Classy Vans, A Moldy Penis Would Be Beyond Uncool, And Other Such Stuff And Thangs

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So, I was told not to share this story, which I totally agreed to at the time.  But as time passed, I realized it would be just plain wrong to keep this gem to myself.  And since a bunch of time has passed since the incident, I just can’t resist sharing it now.  I was working one night, cleaning the bathroom (just my fave task ever!).  I finished cleaning and went to grab a new roll of that awesome public restroom toilet paper.  While I did this, a customer went into the bathroom.  As soon as she was done, I went in, changed out the t.p. roll, and went back out to start sweeping.  The woman I was working with went in to use the restroom, only to come back out rather quickly and hurrying into the office.  She came back out a couple minutes later to let me know the police would be arriving shortly.  Well, being the boring, nosy person I am, I asked what was up.  Well, it turns out that lady that used the bathroom after I cleaned it, yeah, she accidentally left her drugs sitting on the sink.  A nice little baggie of meth.  And, according to the cops that showed up thereafter, really high-quality meth at that.  Now, I had no actual idea what meth looked like prior to this.  I mean, it’s not like they do a super close-up on Cops or Intervention or whatever.  I mean, you usually see this little tiny piece of stuff that looks like a cross between a piece of pocket lint and a tiny little chunk of flour or sugar or something.  So I totally made sure I got several good looks at the baggie o’ meth (which really looked nothing like what I had imagined).  So anyway, my coworker and the cops went out to chat and I went back to doing my work stuff.  When my coworker got a call, I simply took her the phone and went back to work.  Well, a bit later, my co-worker returned and she was absolutely convinced that the lady would be returning for her forgotten meth.  So the cops hid their car and then hung out out of sight to wait for Ms. Meth to return.  And the idiot did return.  She walked in one door, spotted the cops, went right out the other door, which even I know was not exactly a genius move.  I mean seriously, at least buy a pop or something so it’s not completely obvious you were coming in specifically to retrieve your illegal drugs.  Dumbass.  Sadly, not only was she not sprayed or tazed, she didn’t even get arrested.  It was a total bummer.  It was only later that shift that I learned the truly genius detail that makes this the best story EVER.  It turns out that there was a reason my co-worker was so certain Ms. Meth would be returning for her drugs.  SHE FRICKIN’ CALLED!  That was the call I handed over to my co-worker.  The woman actually called to see if my co-worker would hold onto the meth for her until she could come back in to get it!  Like, WTEFF??  How exactly does that call go?  “Excuse me, I left my meth in your bathroom, can you hold onto it for me?”  And no, my co-workers are not good buddies–the chick is just that dim.  It was a rather awesome and exciting evening overall–kinda like being on Cops but without being arrested or anything.

I went to Goodwill last week, which is always entertaining.  I saw these delightfully classy heels:

Which, as far as I can tell, where created solely for hookers, strippers, or for some sort of costume.  Schnazzy, huh?!?  Then, in the parking lot, I was forced to kinda block traffic so I could snag a pic of this ah-mazing van:

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There is so much awesome in this picture y’all.  First, note the window air conditioner in the back window there.  Then, take note of the fact that this totally looks like a creeper kidnappy sort of van.  And finally, the coup de resistance, the sticker proclaiming this to be the shaggin’ wagon.  So awe-inspiring.

Kids are hilarious.  My dear friend Krystal’s little guy is particularly amusing.  You may remember him from previous blogs, since he often amuses me.  Anyway, little man is not quite 7–his birthday is this month.  Well, one night he shoved past his mom in a desperate dash for the toilet.  After he finished peeing, he looked around and, rather frantically, asked his mom if there was any toilet paper left.  Krystal was understandably puzzled and reminded him that boys don’t really need toilet paper after they pee.  Looking slightly appalled at the suggestion to just kinda ‘shake it off’ a bit, he told her, “But mom, it’s still a little bit wet!  I can’t leave it wet!  It will get moldy and then we’ll have to cut it off!”  Lord that kid cracks me up!

Randomosity:

Current fave term for a certain loathsome presidential candidate: the American Cheeto!  I think my work bestie Desi and I should start our own business–we can see books and hooker heels and all sorts of bizarre odds and ends.  No reason really, just sounds fun.  This will come as a shock to y’all, but I am, once again, coughing and wheezing and all that fun stuff.   Yay.  Couldn’t even work yesterday and had to go to the ER today since the urgent care folks told me not to bother waiting for them and just head over to the ER.  So I did and they gave me a breathing treatment and a shot of antibiotics and an IV bag of Solumedrol (steroids…and I totally spelled that right on the first try!!) and prescriptions for Prednisone and an antibiotic and said Wednesday, if I’m better, I can go back to work, but if I’m still sick I have to go back to the ER.  Just yuck.  My buddy Caron once had a radar detector with radar detector detector deflector, which is kind of awesome to say.  The new Slim Jim commercial with the old lady and the that’s what she said line?  BEST. EVER.

Gotta go, dingo!

What On Earth Is Wrong With People, Weird And Slightly Quirky Kinda Rocks, And Other Crap That Doesn’t Matter

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Between working with the public, being forced to go in public for various reasons, and watching ‘reality’ t.v., my general aversion to people is constantly being reinforced by the incomprehensible behavior of folks.  Throw in the historical and cultural documentaries, and it really shouldn’t come as a shock that I would happily avoid interacting with the vast majority of the population.  People tossing wadded up money at a cashier while carrying on a loud cell phone call full of personal information that no one wants to hear.  People proudly and loudly declaring their ‘knowledge’ that all folks that seek any sort of federal/state assistance are lazy, worthless scum who feel entitled to get money without having to work for it.  People shooting at people they don’t know for reasons that make no sense.  People thinking they are better than others because of their clothes or their home or their religion or whatever.  Teen Moms and The Bachelor/Bachelorette…’nuff said. (I know the show sucks, spellcheck, but bachelorette is totally a word)  Now, don’t get me wrong, I am guilty of having some truly atrocious shows in my guilty pleasure list, but none includes a bunch of pregnant teens or a group of people expecting to find true love with one pre-selected stranger on national t.v. while competing against 20 others who are all looking for the same thing.  Seriously though, people just kinda suck.  They so often have no sense of decency or compassion.  People are so quick to hate and so prone to cruelty.  I may be a pathetic, selectively-social, bleeding-heart liberal, but I think that’s infinitely preferable than being a selfish, uncaring, unfeeling, nasty person.  So there.

It may shock you, but I’m a bit different than most folks.  But it’s true.  Most people seem to be all about fancy shoes or expensive clothes or glamorous jewelry or some such things.  Yeah, not really my thing.  While other chicks get all giddy over over-priced high heels, I’m perfectly content to sport some nice, comfy Sketchers or whatever.  I get all kinds of disgruntled over the thought of buying shoes that are more than $30-$40!  And that’s only for work shoes, which have to be super comfy and tend to be more expensive.  For everyday shoes, I prefer $5-$20.  The idea of spending hundreds of dollars on a pair of shoes is mind-boggling and rather appalling to me.  And I actually don’t much care for that sort of shopping either.  My idea of fun shopping involves avoiding any store that seems even slightly high-end or fashion-y.  I am inevitably drawn to the more intriguing, quirky, oddball stores.  The best way to draw me in to a store is to put something wacky right in the doorway or window, where I am unlikely to miss it.  The weirder, the better.  Bizarre lawn ornamentation, odd knick-knacks, kooky wall decor, goofy window hangings–anything that strikes you as too ‘out there’ or even a touch tacky.  That is the stuff I love.  The slightly amazing little stuffed flamingo wearing a fuzzy green boa and sparkly heels and a fabulous hat, the slightly disconcertingly unusual clothes hanger with a face and shoulders, the little pink koosh-ball looking fella with huge eyes, the zombie shaped cookie cutters-I love them all.  But the really quirky thing is that I also love all things books (trinket boxes and pencil holders and book ends and coffee mugs and decor galore, which all looks perfect with all my books) and I love nifty old stuff.  Especially old trunks and suitcases and such.  I have a cool old metal pitcher that belonged to my Grandma Chuck that I use as a vase of sorts for all my fake flowers that I absolutely love.  The fact that it is placed next to a little koosh-like baby chick and my Minnion shaped flashlight and a cool deco box and a bendy purple elephant thing my buddy Caron gave me many moons ago, it all just makes it even cooler.

Randomosity:

What’s with the half-ponytail with the bump thingy in the front?  Why would anyone sign up to be on a show to kiss a total stranger in the hopes of meeting their true love?  Like, does that seem likely to these people?  Why on earth do people have pets that can easily kill people?  Like, what is endearing about a venomous snake or something large enough with big sharp teeth that can literally bite your face off or whatever?  How do you feel sorry for someone who was killed by their pet venomous snake or eaten/mauled by their pet tiger?  And I totally want a service monkey someday, but definitely a nice tiny little monkey that cannot go all pissed chimpanzee and chew my face off…like maybe one of those itty bitty little finger sized monkeys…or whatever those adorable little fuzzy monkey-like critters are.  I’m fairly certain low-rise socks were created by the devil.  There’s a guy on the show I’m watching that looks kinda like Babe Winkleman, but the Babe Winkleman from back in the 80’s rather than current Babe Winkleman, whom I happened to catch sight of while trying to find something on t.v. one day.  It actually made me switch to the channel to see how old ol’ Babe was, which was hella old, at least compared to the last time I watched his show, which was probably sometime in 1989, as that is the year my stepfather died and he was actually the one watching the show, I was just the victim of a single t.v. household back then.

Asta La Pasta!

Guilty Pleasures Rock, Public Bathroom Etiquette, I Feel Like I’ve Been Cheated, And Other Stuff Y’all Just NEED To Know

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Okay so I have a confession to make…I am rather pathetically addicted to the ridiculousness that is Toddlers and Tiaras.  And don’t go making judgy eyebrows at me–you know you have some horrible guilty pleasure that’s equally atrocious.  I mean, some must read all those horrendous Harlequin romance novels and The Bachelor is still on t.v. which means people are actually still watching that crap too, so there.  And at least I can, and will, happily admit that the show is ridiculous, I just don’t care ’cause it’s downright entertaining.  For one thing, I must admit that the whole little kid pageant thing doesn’t bother me like it does some folks.  Yes, those kids wear more make-up than I have ever owned, and they wear dresses that cost an absurd amount of money, and yes they spray tan and wear those weird teeth things and all that.  But a lot of those kids eat that shit up.  They look and feel like little princesses and they get crowns and trophies and prizes and gifts to boot.  And honestly, if the kid loves it, I don’t see the harm in it so long as the parent handles things in a somewhat sane and rational manner.  Buuuuuut, that doesn’t happen often on the show, which is delightful to watch of course.  I love loathing the rotten, pushy, bullying, nasty moms and admiring the good ones thrown in here and there.  I love watching these kids prancing and preening and such.  And I love it when they’re rotten brats too.  The whole thing is like a delightful train wreck that you just can’t look away from, no matter how much you want to.  Anyway, they took my show off for a couple years, which horked me off to no end.  But now it’s back!  Yay for trashy, pointless, mindless, ridiculous, and thoroughly awesome t.v.!!!

So, I know I have ranted and raved about how nasty people can be, like, a million times.  And I’m going to do it again.  People apparently don’t understand that using a public restroom does NOT mean you can suddenly leave behind all common sense, civility, and decency.  Other folks actually want to use the restroom after you and they most certainly do not want to find the toilet covered in your shit–literally.  I have had to clean many bathrooms over the years, which is rather ironic since I refuse to use public restrooms 99.99999999% of the time (I can literally count the number of times I’ve used a public restroom in the last 10 or 15 years on one hand).  One thing I have discovered over the years is that people are just as nasty as I feared far more often than you probably think.  I have seen shit smeared walls, toilets literally dripping with all manner of bodily fluids, used feminine products tossed on the floor and even in the sink, and I even once discovered that someone had somehow managed to take a liqua-poop in a tampon receptical (I still cannot fathom how they accomplished that one).  For the love of all that is holy, people, what the hell?!?  Proper public restroom etiquette is actually astoundingly simple–get in, do your business, clean up after yourself, wash your hands, and get out.  That’s it.  Sheesh.

I am a huge fan of gymnastics–especially during the Olympics.  I could watch it for hours.  Maybe it’s because I am the total opposite of graceful or coordinated or even remotely athletic.  Maybe it’s just ’cause it’s nifty to watch.  Whatever the reason, I love gymnastics.  So I was rather looking forward to watching it during the Rio games.  But. apparently, the folks that are replaying these games don’t like me much.  I recorded every single replay thingy that said it included gymnastics events…and then had to say bad words when I played them back and found abso-frickin-lutely NO GYMNASTICS.  What the entire fuck, people?  What did I ever do to you to make you promise me gymnastics and then not deliver???  I did somewhat forgive them for this tonight though, when I actually got to see what the dumb info thing promised, which is my all-time favorite; women’s floor exercises!  I still fell cheated though, since I missed a bunch of other stuff.  Sigh.

Randomosity:

Am I the only one who ever wonders if anyone chooses to dye their hair that dull blondish-brownish color?  Or how many people have the job of inspector at a dildo manufacturing factory?  I think there should be a law that you can’t spend thousands of dollars on stupid stuff like pageant dresses or fancy electronics if you’re missing more than one front tooth and the remaining teeth are horridly discolored.  Just sayin’.  Do people name their kid Tiffany any more?   Why are they called dust bunnies?  They really don’t look very bunny-like.  Who was the first person to hack off a cute little bunny’s foot and decide it was lucky and should therefore be carried around?  i mean, how creepy and ick is that??  Ick is totally a legit word, spellcheck, you’re just overly judgy and rude.  And stupid.

Ta-ta for now, chow-chow!

Family Time, That Time I Almost Died Of Nervousness And Happiness At The Same Time, Work Buddies, And Other Mind-blowing Ridiculousness

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I didn’t realize that it’d been a whole month already since the last post, and I am totally sorry about that.  In my defense, I’ve had a pretty hectic, draining couple of weeks.  So, here goes!

I got to spend almost a week with the fam last month, which was awesome.  I even got to spend a bit of time with Elise and Alex, which is kinda rare since they’re all busy being grown-ups and working and such.  I got to spend bunches of time with my sister (we even got our toenails and fingernails done!) and my best buddy, Miss Chloe.  As always, she cracks me up with her diva-ness and turns me to mush with her moments of sweetness.  One minute she is loudly telling passersby that I’m hurting, when in reality I’m merely trying to hold her hand and keep her from taking off into the maze of aisles at the huge craft store.  The next minute she is holding my hand and patting it gently while reassuring me that it will be okay and that she’s right there when I suffer from a little asthma attack.  I love that little girl!

So I kinda had the coolest experience in the history of ever last week.  I MET THE BLOGGESS!!!  (The Bloggess is totally a word and it doesn’t stop being a word just because I capitalized it, spellcheck.  You’re stupid.)  I actually spoke to her even!  In real, mostly coherent, sentences!  I was freaked out by the crowd and I may have come a bit close to hyperventilating a couple times, but it was totally worth it!  Added bonus, being friends with an awesome deaf chick comes with nifty perks, such as sitting in the front row (rather than sitting in the midst of the crowd, which was a downright horrifying proposition.)  Yay for my Noodle and the Bitter Man!!  (thanks again, both of you!)  Anyways, Jenny Lawson is light-years beyond awesome!  The first thing she said when she reached the stage thingy was “Holy shit y’all!  There’s a ton of people here!”  I really hope she comes back to Iowa someday in the not too distant future!  I will go see her every chance I get, which may seem a tad stalker-y to those who do not know/properly appreciate the awesomeness of Jenny Lawson, but those people probably won’t read this anyway.

And though he was a rather artful photo dodger, Robby was there too.  And please feel free to be all jealous about the knitted naughty bits Jenny received from my dear friend Noodle, since they are rather awesome.  And Jenny totally used the vagina as a neck pillow on the plane ride home!

I’ve been working a lot lately, but it’s been kinda awesome even though it kinda kills me a little.  But the reason it’s been awesome is ’cause I’ve been getting to work with my work bestie almost every shift, which rocks cuz she’s awesome and kinda like a taller, funnier, and slightly cooler version of me!  I’ve been forced to add her to my rather smallish circle of people I totally dig being around, which is kinda a big deal since I don’t really like being around people as a general rule.  I don’t remember if I have permission to use her name on here or not so, for now, I shall call her Gabby.

Randomosity:

I just watched some court show that showed this guy in court for killing 8 members of his family.  Which wouldn’t be all that unbelievable really, except they said he beat them all to death…um…wth?  How could one dude beat 8 people to death without at least one of them hearing something and, I don’t know, run?  But apparently, these people, most of whom were adults, just snoozed right through the sound of 7 people being bashed to death either in the next room or right next to them.  Am I the only who thinks this seems a tad outlandish?  Now, I’m not saying he’s innocent or anything, I just find it rather unbelievable that he killed that many folks in a decidedly unquiet manner without any of them ever waking up or fighting back or anything.  Want to know the number one reason Polygamy holds no appeal for me?  According to at least one Polygamist sect, women get to spend their whole lives being utterly obedient to/respectful of/unquestioning of their husband and accept all their rules and all their other wives and such and if you are obedient to all the other church men, and if they do this well enough, they get to die and go to heaven and do it FOR THE REST OF ETERNITY…are you fucking kidding me??  To hell with that!  My idea of heaven has nothing to do with waiting on some asshole hand and foot for all eternity.  I’m more into the idea of heaven as more of an endless supply of awesome TV and books and bottomless cups of hot mocha and all kinds of cute critters that I’m not allergic to and comfy jammies and maybe a nice celestial marriage to Shemar Moore 🙂   Did I mentioned Jenny Lawson totally dug my shirt?  I wore the one with the T-Rex in the rowboat that says ‘row, row, row your…oh…right…’  Still can’t drive my car…I’m beginning to think the title got lost in another dimension.  I wonder how Dart would look with a kitty mohawk. (I don’t care what you say, spellcheck, it looks dumb to capitalize mohawk…unless I was referring to that particular tribe of Native Americans, in which case I would totally capitalize it but it’s just dumb in this usage.  You’re still stupid.)   I’m contemplating dying a chunk or two of my hair pink or purple or turquoise or something.  Gotta go, dingo!