This One's For SASSY

I, went-to-the-toy-store, I, went-to-the-toyyyyyyy-store!! (sex toys, what else?)

Damn it my Mexican is working too hard. Two jobs, he gets up at 5:20 a.m. and doesn't return home until 10p.m. Add in a shower and eating after he gets home and he's goll dern tuckered out. And I'm half asleep.

Sex? Where'd you GO??? Come back. I thought we were pals.

A girl like me can't go from everyday to weekends only. SOOOOOO there's always toys. I've got my old toys but I'm a wee bit wretched over the loss of my regular good stuff so I felt the need to get some shiny new pals.

Sassy recommended the Jack Rabbit. I've heard lots and lots about the Rabbit line and wanted to check it out for me-self. (sassys link is at the bottom of this post for your ease of transition after my blog)

I drove my ass 25 miles all happy and full of anticipation, all by myself. No prob. I'm pretty open and you know comfortable with sexuality so no biggie.

Usually???

When I got there the counter helper guy was new. And he was like MY age and gay. You'd think that we would have a great time but for some ass-crazy reason I freaked out and clammed up! I had a list that I had PLANNED on walking up to the first helper I saw and saying "I want this, this and this." But when he looked me in the eyes and said "Can I help you find anything?"
Swear to god I pursed my lips and did the fast no thankyou I'm a virgin head shake. "Are you sure?" Once again, lips pursed, silent, eyes-wide head shake yes.

I couldn't believe it!! What the hell happened to me? Anyways, after I gathered up a few new friends. (jackrabbit you're mine bitch, gracias sassy!) I wandered over to the lube section. Yay!! I got some crappy stuff from walmart and was geeked to get some good stuff from the toy store. Once again the guy walked up to me and asked if he could help me. By this point I talked myself back into being brave again and asked him for the best stuff they carry.

He said he didn't know but he could recommend some popular stuff. AND THEN he asked me "Is this for sexual intercourse? Or just for personal toy use? Or both?" And he asked me with a knowing glance to my new friends. My brain went into lock-down and I stammered out , "Uh, Ub *head shake* both?"

Damn it I could almost HEAR him think, yeah right dildo girl. I couldn't take anymore so I just came out and asked if they had my favorite. (astroglide, the fucking shit beyond anything) And YAAAYYY god they did. There, done, I thought I was safe.

But fuck no we weren't done yet. Oh for the love of vagina, at the check out he asked me if I would like him to put batteries in my new friends to make sure they work before I go. Fuck. I drove like 25 miles and I didn't want to have to make a return so I said ok. He got out my new friend the Jack Rabbit, put in the batteries and turned 'im on. Holy FUCK I did not know it did all that!! I just stared in awe as he took it through the paces. (Jesus dude you didn't have to leave it on for like a full minute, GAWD) And then he tried to hand it to me while it was still running.

Huh-uh. You'd think it was a viper, I backed up a step, threw my hands up and did the head shake thing again. Fuck! What the hell? Ok next. He got out the little guy, put in the batteries turned it on and tried to hand THAT to me!! Geez dude seems like you'd get the message by now. At least this time I managed a "That's ok, *head shake*."

Done? No. Apparently if you're a super perv like me and spend over 50$ you get a free 5$ gift card. He informed me of my fortune and asked if I would like it. Well duh!? Yes! give me my free money! I went through all that!? Give. Me. My. Dildo. Gift. Card.

http://sassyblondie.blogspot.com/

I started a new blog. It's just a little happy hippie thing that I'm doing for myself, but I'd feel weird if I didn't share. It's a place to go and write about the things that I love, and am thankful for. Just stuff that makes me happy and feel good.

Sometimes I get overwhelmed with all of the negativity of the world so I'm making my own little happy place. Feel free to share stuff that makes you happy too.

And then we can all go save the butterflies and hug trees together and sing kum-by-ya.

http://stufflindyloves.blogspot.com/

Lazy Bitches

K so I finally got on our LAME work computer, the only one without a fucking web filter and did this site rating thing. I was kind of excited cuz I tend to swear a wee bit. Obviously it's a lazy system cuz it only gave me NC-17 and THIS is all it could find? Come on pal what, do you only go back like 3 posts?

Shit - 14
fart - 10
fucking - 9
ass - 8
fuck - 5
pissed -3
bitch - 2
skank - 1

Who gives a shit about fart, pissed or skank? Fart?? What?

Actually I remember having a really serious conversation with my mom when I was like 12, asking her if "Pissed" was a swear word. I honestly didn't know. She told me that yes it was a bad word. I'm sorry but I just don't consider it that bad. I think my next question to my mom was "At what age are kids allowed to swear?"

I forget what she said but I do remember it was a pretty good answer. Something about being older and mature enough to make your own decision about it. I remember I was just thinking she would just say "17." I don't know why but that was the age I figured it would be ok.

That whole conversation came about after me calling some bad-guy in a movie a "bastard." I honestly didn't know it was a bad word so my parents had to inform me.

Oh man I remember watching the "Carol Brunette Show" with them when I was little and watching a skit about Carols lost virginity. I still remember the skit and I also remember turning around on our love seat to ask my parents behind me on the couch "What's virginity?" I think they told me just to watch the show. In fact they fielded that entire question, and I forgot about it. Nice play.

The more I think about it the more I remember. Those questions and swearing incidents REALLY stick with me. I remember swimming with my parents when I was like 8 and stepping on something sharp and saying "SHIT!" I can picuture myself slowly turning to look at my Dad, who was laughing at me, plugging my nose with my fingers and slowly slipping underwater hoping I could hold my breath for say... forever.

Then later when I WAS 17 sitting in the kitchen and working myself up to say a swear word in front of them on purpose for like the first time and trying SOOOO HARD to seem nonchalant about it. I think I refereed to one of my friends as a bitch, and I don't think I sweared again in front of them for a few more years. They didn't seem to care a bit but I somehow felt that maybe 17 wasn't the magical number.

I want to fart a baby.

C. came and laid on the couch next to me last night all pitiful and wretched like. I asked him what was wrong and he said he had heartburn/a tummy ache.

Being the sweet and helpful gal that I am I said "Ooooooo pooooo baybeee let mamasita make ju fee better." "Maybe da baybee needs to be burped." So I started patting him on the back like a baby.

He growled at me so I figured perhaps another approach would be better and went with ooooo poo baybee maybe he needs to fart. And as helpful as I could be I started patting him on the ass. I also felt the need to inform him that why yes, just like you burp a baby by patting it's back, you have to "fart" the baby by patting it's ass. Ha ha I'm so silly, I think I'm funny, whatever.

I was just kidding around about the "farting a baby" thing, but he took me for serious and said, "Ohhh ju don' know, dat's not how ju do eeet." I assumed he meant burping the baby. But no. He proceeded to teach me that if a baby is too full and their stomach feels hard and they are crying that you have to fart them. (oh God I'm laughing right now, that's too much) He , oh lord, he said you have to put it on it's back and move it's legs around like it's running and make it fart.

AH AHAHHAHA HAH HA,, oh oh lord I'm sorry, I was crying at this point, and he was getting pissy with me for laughing.

- "Eeets not funny, dey hurt so ju have to make them do it."

"You have to "FART" the baby?"

-"Jes, eets not funny, ees it fahnny when ju have to fart?"

"Yes" (uncontrollable laughing)

-"Nooooo it's not funny if the baby hurts"

"I, I, oh I know but you asked if it's funny when I fart, and that IS funny. You laugh all the time!"

-"But da baby is deeferent."

"Farting the baby is different?"

-"Jes"

"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA (for about a minute)"

-"Hissssssssssssssssssssssssss" (that would be him hissing at me, which makes me laugh more)

I know JACK about babies, I don't know if you actually have to fart them. If it's true? Well that will be one more bargaining chip on his table for his pro-let's-have-a-baby movement. But only if I get to do the farting. OH HO ho haha hhaha. Farting..... snort. ha.ha....baby. Oh lord.

Boys are so EASY

OOooo he'd be so pissy if he knew I called him a boy. Silly. And yeah he IS easy, but that's not what I'm talking bout today.

*Disclaimer* No offense to men or women I'm sure we are all capable of doing this and in some cases the rolls may even be reversed but this is my story and my mexican. *The end*

We're talking grilling. Ole mexi-ee-doo felt lazy yestaday but mamasita wanted somepin ga-reeeeeiild. I told him hey, no prob. I'll do it myself darrrrling you just watch t.v. Hahahahaahahahhahha. Worked like a charm. Follow me.

He had pants on and was out the door (why yes he was nekkid, that's how I like 'im) and was just "hanging out" before I could even fetch the lighter fluid. I told him to go back inside and that I had it covered but he insisted that he just felt like being outside for a bit. (hahahahahh right pal.)

Anyways I've never actually done the whole stacking and lighting of coal before so he hung out by the street leaning against a car and pretended not to watch me like the cave-man hawk that he was. I did my thang, it's not so hard really and went inside to prep the meat.

And that was it. He was on that grill like rosie on ellen with a snack cake. I didn't even have to SEE it I just knew. I could feel his man-stinct kick in. "OO oo Rrahah oo" "Must control da fire, oo ooO rahh, woman no touch fire." When I was done with the meat I went out to "check" the coals and laid on my best ladylike bell action with "hey sweeeetie, that's ok you don't have to be tendin the fire, I know you're tired, I can do it."

Response? "Oh no, that's ok I'm not tired anymore. You did the meat, I can cook." *big smile that said "I love you" and a subtle "back away from the fire, Ooo!"*

And that was that. I bluffed and he folded. Lucky for me if he didn't fold I'm not a retard and was holding a full house anyways. For gods sake I can cook some meat on some heat, I was just feeling lazy.

Note To Self A-FUCKING-GAIN, dummy.

Note To Self: (#3)

Remember this really short note to yourself? Like just a few months ago? NO? Why don't you read it again and maybe try to absorb this time.
http://lindystars.blogspot.com/2007/02/note-to-self.html

OHHHHhhhhh yeah that one. Right. Oh.

Fuck. Did it again didn't ya? He STILL tries to work that one in the circuit from time to time.

And now you've added another? ANOTHER??? Shit! And pretended to like it? You idiot don't you remember that you're experienced enough, old enough (well don't we sound like the hor we are?) and know damn well better than to FAKE??? When did that tid bit slip your mind?

FUCK shit damn. That's two, TWO crappy positions that do NOTHING for you and you've just let em slip right in. (hahahahah that's a pun right?)

And now you can't set him strait cuz it'll throw his ass into Oh-my-God-my-manliness-has-been-insulted/put down/ruined/-and-I'll never be the same because now I know I'm not perfect and what will I do this is the end of the world as I know it I'll probably just be limp from now on - mode.

Good fucking job sherlock. Mr. Jumping bean is gonna be all over this one. You better figure something out. Something even MORE cool that actually works. You better to to the toy store.

Fuck.

Hey Body, Hi, just sayin Hi.

Hello? Hi. It's me, it's yourself. How are you? Right, right, I know I'm sorry ok? Oh, ok ok calm down I didn't mean to be sarcastic, breathe, my bad, let's be peaceful. Let's be peaceful and discuss this ok?

Remember the good times? You know like last summer and fall when we were running a couple miles a day and eating real healthy? Waaaiitt wait wait, yes I know it kind of sucked. I know you hated me for making you sweat in 85% piss shit weather, I know I hated it to. But remember what happened ?? Remember how we lost 70 pounds? Wasn't that great? Come aawwwwnn remember buying those jeans that were so skinny you weren't even ashamed to hold them up in front of people at the ghetto wash to fold them correctly? You know instead of kind of trying to shield them from people seeing their massive width like before??

Well. Here's the thing. I've been a bastard. AAH! Ok yes I know, I know god you'd think you'd be a bit nicer about it at LEAST I'm admitting it ok? Gaarsh! Geez, calm down. Ok so you're pissed at me I get it. I decided to eat tater tots and chips and ice cream. And maybe some snack cakes. Ok a LOT of chips. I love chips.
And maybe I got hooked up with a Mexican that taught me how to cook like a real Mexican and Mexican just happens to be my favorite food. And this whole I can cook like we would get in the Mexi-raunt hasn't really worked out to well for us.

Let's access the damage. Yes. No more happy jeans, we've, ok I've gained us back like 15-18 or 19 lbs. Whoops? But HEY!! don't turn away! We've lost 3 of it again! 3. Ah shit, 3 that we've now paid the price for twice. Jesus it's like going to a store, buying something and then when you go and return it you have to pay for it again. I'm cheap and I HATE standing in that GOD be Damned walmart customer service line for like a fucking hour just to return some stupid ass shit that doesn't fucking work. REALLY hate that!

But listen, on Monday I spent an hour doing equations and working the math and figuring up potions and plans. And look! We've lost 3 lbs. 1 1/2 of which I'm sure is water weight so don't get too excited about that but hey it still looks good in the numbers right? Right? COOOME on, you know you feel better after exercising last night. What? Your sore? Oh silly, remember that in pretend land that sore=feel good? And in pretend land the fact that you feel like you're jesus christ starving even though you're getting plenty of calories for your weight and exercise level? (well I guess not Jesus cuz he would at least give us some SHIT FUCKING bread and fish.!!!)

Buy heeeey we can have fish right? See not so bad after all. Yes ok so I know 4 shitty ounces is kind of like NOTHING FUCKING AT all, but that's ok. Remember the skinny pants? Yes darling remember the skinny pants and try your best to stay in pretend land.

AND try your best to stay away from that spic when his ass is eating. My god that skinny bastard can down a half a cow, a bushel of fucking corn tortillas and a half gallon of coke!! All he has to do is smile shrug his shoulders and say 3 times, "I don't get it, I WISH I could gain weight." Sorry that magic spell only works for people like him. You know the Evil people. It's an Evil spell really, you know the whole "I have a great metabolism thing." Well buck up darling you're not evil at all. In fact you have NO shit-be-damned metabolism at all it seems. See? You like pure... and shit.

Ok!! So that's the game plan. Back on track!! You with me?!?!?! Hey!!! Fucker!? Come back here, HEY!!!! I was fucking talking to you. Well - at least I'm running. Ha. Bitch.

I'm a dipshit

I'm a bit writers blocky right now so here's a tidbit that happened to me at work that sort of affirms the whole I-am-a-super-dork-clutz thing. When all else fails I guess I can write about being stupid.

While at work Saturday I was being a smidge (fuckinglot) lazy and instead of getting up OUT of my little chair with wheels (to get a stapler farther down on my counter) I decided to lean for it. I leaned as far as my short ass arm would go, got my body into the lean and WHA? WHAM!! Crash bang boom. I guess you can only lean so far in Mr. Chair with wheels cuz it has a balance point or something. Anyways the bitch went over so fast I had no time to apply my natural grace and agility. Why yes grace, I obtain I believe 20 % of what the average person has so, well.. guess it wouldn't have helped anyways.

Fucking clutz ass gene pool. BTW if you're a compete fucking Clum try and not breed with another of your kind cuz it sux to be the offspring. K?

Anyways I ended up tipping over, knocking over my garbage and taking my big ass desk phone down with me in one lovely skerblam. AND managed to instantly abrade and bruise the shit out of my arm. Currently I posses a 5 inch dia. circle of purple loveliness for all to see. Yeah and I have a picture of a mexican on my desk so all of our customers assume he beats me and I get pity looks when they inquire what happened and I say "I fell out of my chair."

Really? How lame DOES that sound?

Ditto

That was the name of my pet cockatiel when I was a kid. Early 90's?? Anyways, just the name "Ditto" ia a sign of those times right?

When we first got him I was of an age before boycraze and therefore he received a lot of my attention. Later on when boys became my #1 focus I lost interest and he went insane, but I'll save that for later.

He was the coolest. He would say his name of course, but also he would pick up on the things most repeated in our household. Like, "Where'd Dad go?," and my favorite "Not!" Remember when everybody ran around saying shit and then saying "not!" afterwards and it was like so funny? (ok if you were 12)

Oh man the greatest was when my Dad taught him the "wolf whistle." You know the one that guys whistle to chicks if they think they're hot and the chicks give the guys a dirty look? (or the one I do in public when there's a lot of chicks and a couple dudes and I do it just to fuck with them all?)

AN-Y-WAYS My mom walked past his cage one day and he did the hey you're sexy whistle and immediately followed it with "Not!" It was awesome and after that he ALWAYS did it that way. Little bastard, it still makes me laugh.

When we spent a LOT of time together I think he thought I was his girlfriend. *Disclaimer* I was young enough not to know what he was doing but old enough to have an idea that this was wrong. -Sometimes when he would sit on my hand he would grind his little butt into my hand and wave his tail back and forth. I thought he was just being silly but after a few times and noticing that he left some liquid on my hand when he was finished I had to go and ask my mom
"Mom, do boy birds come in heat like a girl dog?" My mom asked why and I never told her. It kind of dawned on me -sort of- and after that I tried to not let him do it anymore. But if I tried to stop him he would BITE me! And squawk at me and just keep on going.

Moving on. Ahem. We taught him how to whistle the "Oh my darling" song. He did great with it for like a year and then one day just up and got tired of it. He would do the first bar and then just start of improvising. My Dad would go over to him and start doing it the right way and the bird would fuckin blitz. I believe he thought he was an artist and GOD Dammit he was making his own version. Bless my Dad he would just keep correcting him and the bird would get pissed as hell every time.

After a few years I DID go boycrazy and my Dad kind of took over giving Ditto attention. When I WOULD try and see him he would flip out. All I had to do was walk in the room and he would start screaming and flapping and would bite me if I tried to get him.

At the time I deemed him schizophrenic but now I think maybe he was just a monogamous bisexual kind of guy. Or maybe he was like a really scorned lover and hated my guts for dumping him, I'll just never know.

Alan the Great tagged me AGAIN. I here by declare him not a hor but a DIRTY hor.

7 random things about myself. Fuck. Fine. I'll teach you to mess with me.

1. Last night I read some erotica with the plot taking place in a creative writing class.

2. I haven't been able to take advantage of my mexican in DAYS because of his two jobs.

3. Later on I decided to take care of business with my magic bullet. (adjustable speed, it's the shit fo sho)

4. I was thinking about what I read earlier. In the "book," the writing class was a class on writing erotica. It said that in erotica you have to be really specific when you describe what the characters are physically feeling.

5. I'm a multitasker and thought I would give it a whirl and try think up what mr. magic feels like.

6. But all I could come up with is that it SOUNDS like a buzzing bee. And then all I could think about was that mr. magic feels like what a giant buzzing bee would feel like all up on my shit. (and it creeped me out a little bit ) And then I remembered that back in the day Cleopatra used a wooden box full of bees as like one of the first vibrators. (wouldn't that suck if they DIED! (and before you were finished?))

7. And then I figured out why a Queen bee in real life lays so many freaken eggs and has like a million babies. Cuz everybody who does it with her is a LIVING vibrator.

Ok so I guess that's just ONE random stream of thought but whatever it's my blog. And now you all have a lleeeetle bit better idea of how my brain works.

Dear Skin On my Face.

You are an asshole.

Yeah I'm talking to you. Bitch. OOoooooo "She jus call ju a bitch! What chu goan do bout it?"

I currently use 6 products on you each and every day. Not to mention miscellaneous strips, masks and scrubs. AND I fucking stay out of the sun! OH You asshole do you even KNOW how not cool it is to be pale? It's like having fucking leprosy!

I've got eye gel for wrinkles, a gel and scrub for acne, I've got a daytime with SPF and at nighttime I spot treat for acne, wrinkles and moisturising. I'm well read and know what products I can use together and which to use separate. I exfoliate, but not TOO much.

I drink a god awful ridiculous amount of green tea and water. And not JUST for the fun of seeing my pee be clear and feel smug that my kidneys are happy but for YOU! !

And what do you do in return?? OH for shame I think you know. SSHHAAAAAMME. Yes I did just point my finger at you.

Do you know how CHEAP I am and how much money I've spent on you? Fuck You. Seriously I broke down and even started buying the more expensive products (it's painful for me to not be cheap) so once again, Fuck You.

If it weren't for a concealer I found a few years ago that will cover up a fuckin donkey if you put him on my face I would have went insane long long ago.

I need you to get on the same boat as me. I'm 25. Did you realize that? Were you too busy scheming your next evil plot and accidentally missed a couple of my birthdays? Your not a screen writer, stop it. And don't you dare make me go all catholic on your ass and bring in a priest to bring out the demons and shit.

I've tried positive reinforcement with you but those days are over. Get your SHIT together you lazy skank ass bitch.

Cruiser Hor tagged me again

7 random things about me.

1. I've played the violin for 13 years. And for the last couple years I've been teaching myself the guitar. (why yes I am trying too hard to sound cool, thank you)

2. I have two cats. I never could come up with a good name for them so for the last 3 years I've called them Little Kitty and Big Kitty. It only sux when I go to the vet for shots because the people look at me like I'm a bastard. For SHIT sakes I'm paying for shots for their worthless asses!

3. I drink about 2 quarts of green tea a day.

4. My little brother is a high functioning Autistic and I can't bring myself to ever wish that he would have been born different. He is SO sweet and SO fun and loving and smart that I honestly couldn't ask for a better little dude. (and I kind of feel like a bastard for not wanting better for him)

5. My parents are summer nudists. They don't go to conventions or anything but they live in the boondocks and NEVER have tan lines. My dad never did it when I was around the house but there were many a time when I would pull up in my car and see him making a run for it to the house to get some clothes. Ha hah hahahaha.

6. I love rainbows and rainbow colored stuff but I'm always afraid that I'm coming across as a giant lesbian. I SOOOOOOO wanted one of those rainbow stickers on my car and was going to buy one until my friend told me that I can't. I don't care who you want to love or get it on with but I'm a little pissy that the gay folks have monopolized on the rainbows. I'm colorful too, bitches.

7. Fuck this is a lot of shit to write. Random..... Me.... I am currently on my 6th cup of coffee because I have an overwhelming urge to eat an ENTIRE box of little debbie swiss rolls. No not 2 or 3 packages, the whole box. And I'm pretty sure I could do it. God help me.

I'm so a-fucking-stounded I might go a leeeetle nuts.

C. got all of the bugs worked out and fixed on our "new" car. Yay! Right?
OH yes but not before it REALLY DID give MYYYYYY car syphilis just like I predicted. Yes I am Madam psychic come to me and I'll read tarot cards and tell you what STD your car has. My happy little car was just fine until he brought home that Ghetto trash. She's a hor like me and apparently likes the bad boy image and now LOOK what he's given her!!


My car wouldn't fucking come out of PARK yesterday. Park?? Who the fuck ever heard of that!? Just like that, no reason at all, one minute we were happy and driving to work and the next thing I know the bitch goes into a coma and won't snap out of it.


She doesn't wear a bra, I should have KNOWN she's a hoochie.

Ok, so C. found a buddy and within a day they fixed it. Awesome maybe she'll be fine with antibiotics. Cool. Anyways when I came home from work on Saturday C. comes running out to meet me. Guess what? HIS car is now making a funny noise in the brakes. OHmyJesusOhmyJeasus this can't be happening right? It CAN'T!! I just posted last week about 8 things that had to be fixed on this car, and then my car, and now his car A-FUCKING-GAIN??? Ok Ok. I'm breathing, in. Out. In. Out.


He got in to turn on his car to move it forward a bit and hit the brakes so I could hear the noise. Simple enough right?? But G*D for fucking bid, really!

It wouldn't start. Maybe their spreading the syph back and forth?? I don't know but we ended up spending $400 on it to get it to start and go again. And yesterday?? As I went to leave work?? Yeah it wouldn't start again. Again!


In the past week I've had our 2 cars break down 4 times PLUS 6 miscellaneous repairs. Belt, lights, trunk, blah blah blah.

He's working 16 hour days and I'm doing 12-13, we don't have time to fix shit so all this week until friday when he gets a half day off I have to drive his old and busted really REALLY old Ghetto car with a loud exhaust. Loud Exhaust is like the most embarrassing thing E-VER. Maybe it's the 16 year old in me but I will flat out refuse to leave the house unless I absolutely have to because I don't like to drive an embarrassing car. Yes I'm that shallow. I'm a shallow hor with a bunch of syphilis hor cars.

I'd never make a good pimp cuz I can't keep my bitches clean.

Chucky Cheese and Cheeto

My Father and Step Mother Met C. last night. After 6 months of worrying we finnaly did it.

At Chucky Cheese!!!! YAAAAAYYYYY I love Chucky Cheese!! Well, ah-hhem, my little brother loves Chucky Cheese. Ah Ahem. Scuse me.

How perfect a place to meet? Public, loud enough so we didn't have to talk a lot, and distracting as hell. Oh yes and no firearms allowed, how convienent!!! OMG it was the best EVER for a first meet.

My little brother LOVED C. and referred to him first as Keno and then Cheeto. AAAHHAHAHAHA Cheeto. I'm not sure my Dad could have smiled any bigger to hear D. call him Cheeto. He was very proud of his son.

I asked (forced) Cheeto to play the water shooting game with D. You know the one where you have to aim shooting water at a tiny hole? C. momentarily went into the man mode I-must-win-no-matter-what- even though my opponent is 6. Yes that one. Not to worry Sissy was there and reminded mr. Cheeto. (i wrenched the handle from his death grip and slowed his ass down) nicely that he's playing my leeeetle brother. After that D. made him play 6 more times and was such a badass (ahem) that he won every game.

I'm so proud of my Parents. My Dad didn't even LOOK like he wanted to cause bodily harm to C. and my Step Mom smiled and didn't carry mace around her neck. I'm honestly grateful.

Damn my little brother and his ridiculously cute ass. I'm not really into kids, I kind of don't like them at all, but he does something to me that turns me into mush. Bastard. Anyways, I'll follow him anywhere and do anything or play any game he asks. Upon seeing this new behavior in me, Cheeto my little children loving-thinks I'll make a great mom-wants to make one RIGHT NOW- tortilla chip love was filled with hope anew. Fuck.

Christ he was all super lovey happy mushy telling me how good I am with kids and what not. BBLleck. I made sure to tell him that I can only do it for like 4 hours and then I want to collapse. Or maybe crawl into a dark quiet cave and stay a bit. Either way really.

Bluetooth Cyborg Dorks

Anybody else laugh at bluetooth wearers because they look like retarded cyborgs?

Cuz I do.

I wonder how long until they start making little clip-ons for them with hello kitty and star trek symbols on them. And rhinestones.

My Mexican Played the RACE Card on ME!!! (not smart buddy)

C. has taken on a second job. Tuesday thru Thursday he's going to go strait from one to the other and not be home until late at night. I'll miss him but it's o.k. it'll give me time to catch up on things like being lazy and hanging out with friends and did I mention watching t.v. and being LAZY?????

Monday this week he heard me talking to Jaybird about hanging out with Travis. We haven't been together long enough for him to know Travis, for God's sake even I haven't seen T. in years. He got all pissy and I tried to explain to him that T. is gay, and that hanging out with him is ok. (and that I'm going to do what I damn well please anyway)

Little beotch threw back at me "How would you like if I hung out with a lesbian?" Bastard that's different.

Tuesday while he was working I went out to dinner with my boss and her friend. I had two long Islands (mmmmmmmm) and stayed out a bit late. I guess he had been trying to call me and I didn't know it and when he got home and smelled alcohol on my breath he wasn't buying my dinner with boss "story". WTF???

Wednesday he had an hour in between the two jobs to be home and I didn't know so when my friend Jaybird showed up looking all cute before he left he just KNEW that we were going out and that I was doing SOMETHING wrong. Truth is we were just going to Meijer and Jaybirds a cute dresser.

So yesterday I was fed up with him acting all assy for the few minutes a day I get to see him and laid a big ass guilt trip on him and told him not to be a bastard. I've done NOTHING wrong, I don't cheat, I'm not going to cheat and I just about can't believe that he doesn't trust me.

He's never been cheated on and his reasoning for being such a dillhole is that.... Wait. ..wait. oh my... ha ha ha ...here it comes -

"I'm a Mexican"

me- "Exuse me?"
"
We're like that. White guys are different they don't care"


Oh silly silly corn hole you just set yourself up to be flogged, silly stupid boy.

I laid a big ole thing on him about just because his skin is darker than mine that he doesn't get to be a jealous asshole for no reason. And a little bit about how I don't care what culture he was raised in or how his friends are with their women, because he is a grown man and is more than capable for thinking for himself.

I have a friend that was raised in a super racist family and she managed to grow up, make her own decisions, think for herself and have her own opinion about what the color of a persons skin means. (she's not a racist like them, and it gives me hope)

Oh goofy boy you just don't know who you're dealing with.

The race card?? Oh. My. God. No. He di-int!!! HAHAHAHAHAHhahah ah ha. I still can't believe it. Anyways all is well now. I'm relieved to say that he is able of seeing stuff from a different view if presented (beat into his head) to him in the right manor.

Oh, ho ho I'm still laughing. OH me oh my.

Do NOT Let a Mexican Buy You a Car

If I didn't love him and I liked to hit people I would KICK C' S ASS.

Bless his little fajita heart but I'm in awe of what he really purchased. I mentioned him buying the new car a couple of weeks ago. You know, the one that is a stick? And he's never drove a stick and asked me, the used to be a TRUCK DRIVER girl if I know HOW to drive a stick??? Yes that one.

Well, I taught him how to drive it and he picked up on it pretty well but I guess he just doesn't feel comfortable with it. No biggie I thought his car was better than mine so I was happy to trade. OH ho ho ho silly silly hor.

First off I figure out the LIGHTS don't work. Fucking lights!?!?! Who goes to buy a car and doesn't check the light's?? What the shit fire hell bean boy??

Ok ok. He fixed the lights. I'm ok now.
So at the grocery store I decide to put my stuff in the trunk, whatever, go to close the trunk lid and BBOOING! It come flying back up at me. The trunk does not close. The people had apparently gunked it up with something so that it would stay closed until opened, but then, free game. So I had to drive around an entire DAY with a boing boing trunk with people honking at me. WWWHHHHOOOOOOOO buys a car without checking the fucking trunk for dead bodies?? Come. ON!! Dead Bodies for rizzle! Thankfully he fixed it (bungee chord free thank god cuz that is SO ghetto.)

Next. I THOUGHT his stereo was better than mine cuz it has a cool CD playa but guess what, the balance was turned all the way to one side of the car because the other side has blown freakin speakers. Hell.

You better buy me some speakers you little frijole fart.

Done yet?? Well good heavens no. Yesterday I took it to get it washed (something I never do but it's black and looks like hell with shit on it) During the first pass of high pressure water I was oh so NOT fucking surprised to be abso-shit-fucking-lutely DRENCHED in water because the seal around the windshield is gone or dead or just not there. And of course this would be the one day that I pay for the 8 dollar wash, therefore having to sit there and be gushed upon over and over and over. Who's the wetback now?? Oh well, at least I can dry off. (ooo might have went too far there but I'm joking and he's my wetback so I'm not erasing it)

Also the seat adjusting handle doesn't have it's nice little rubber handle, just bare metal, and it ripped the ass in my jeans. Yesterday. After the car wash.

NOW this morning as I went to get the dew off my window by rolling it down, the driver side power in the window started cutting out. I got it to go back up and I'm leaving it that way until I forget about it and try it again. I swear if I end up with PLASTIC for a window like I see some people have to do I'll, I'll, I don't know but he better fix it or his ass is driving the ghetto fucker.

He bought it because it "looks really nice." I.E. Pretty. Pretty?? Lindsay Lohan is pretty but that don't mean the ho doesn't have a drug problem and herpes for god sake. YOU CAN'T SEE SYPHILIS YOU LITTLE love of my life BEANER!!

GAAAWW. No more car buying for little love tortilla. Oh no, he's done. Done Done Done like the meat in a fajita, we're talkin done.

Not so Wordless Wednesday

My Dad has this hanging on his wall at home. It IS an actual skull that my Dad found in the Ozark mountains where we have a little cabin. I was like 8 when he found it and the way he presented it to my Mom and I scared the absolute SHIT out of us both. Anybody good with bones? Got a guess as to what it really is? Click and blow it up maybe it'll be easier for you.


My Dad still loves to mess with new people when they come to their house the first time. It's a hillbilly dream piece.

Our First Barbeque. OMFG.

C. and I got a new grill last week and wanted to have a cookout this weekend for my parents and a couple of his friends. Our neighbors grill all the time and feed us so it's about freaking time we pay them back you know?

Anyways C. told me that he invited them (there's like 6 of them living there) but he only thought MAYBE 3 would show up. I of course figured he had been huffing paint and planned on at least 8 plus my parents and us. Then as we were shopping I remembered that there are a ton of people that drive by our house every day and HONK to say hello. I don't quite get the honking thing btw because living is such close proximity to others kind of defeats the purpose of the honk hello. It's more like living on an LA freeway during rush hour on a day that starbucks has been closed down due to lack of soy milk, everybody's pissed off and nobody can really figure out who or what is really being honked at.

Blah, I digress. I bought enough food to feed an army knowing damn well that it would get used and all the while justifying it to C. by saying that we would eat what didn't get used later in the week.

Being a Mexican it seems like he would GET that a ton of people would just show up. He must have some sort of weird mexican true stereotype block on his brain or something. I don't know but it's a damn good thing that I'm well versed in stereotypes. Go cracker Go.

So, he planned on MAYBE 7 people, and how many did I manage to feed? TWENTY ONE. I think. There might have a couple more but good lord jumping bean it was a little nuts.

Speaking of beans, Holy Fuckin Frijole those people can eat. Leftovers? Food for later in the week to cook? HAHAHAHAHAHA No. But we had fun and all that blah blah so whatever.

Perhaps the highlight was my Dad getting drunk and trying to hug everyone before they left. In case you don't know, Mexicans aren't' touchy freely folk and my dad tried at one point to hug and OLD mexican man. Wow! That was awkward, stiff and accompanied by me silently praying "please don't slug my Dad, please don't beat my dad." C's used to it now and takes it pretty well but these poor people were really in for it.

BTW did I mention that all 20 mexicans present (cept c.) speak zero to 5 words of english and my parents speak zero? Right, my Dad trying his best to do scarades and communicate was beautiful. But you know what the craziest part was? They liked him! Because he was drinking BEER. They thought that was cool cuz they were drinking beer too and the cracker wasn't a stiff.

Who needs word communication when you have meat, gestures and beer.

God bless America.