Make sure you check out Lilu’s site, and check out her TMI Thursday archives for all sorts of hilarity!

Remember how a few weeks ago I told you that my friend Moops has been wanting to start a blog? Well he’s been working on it. He’s even written a few posts, but nothing is live yet- and he’s not sure he wants me to reveal him to the world just yet. However, I did convince him to write a guest TMI post for me since my life has just gotten absolutely crazy the last few weeks. Maybe after reading his awesomeness you can help me convince him that he needs to go public!!!

And without further adieu, I present to you: Moops…

I am about to share a most pathetic tale of over indulgence; this story goes down as one of the worst nights of drinking I have ever had!  Wait a minute, who am I kidding?  I have a resume full of bad nights…with references.

Let me preface the detail of this story with the fact that I am not a delinquent, I have a good job, I contribute to society every now and then, and all in all I’m a pretty decent individual; I just get really drunk from time to time.  I’m about to be 30; I feel that I am fast approaching (or have long past) that threshold where getting boozed up and stripping down to my boxers can be considered acceptable if not slightly amusing behavior (not that that sort of conduct is ever acceptable). In my opinion, drunken behavior is on sort of a sliding scale. For example, when you’re in college, you can get naked and jump on a pogo stick in the front yard and it’s cool; but as age increases, even the slightest drunken mishap can be highly inappropriate and or embarrassing, and for me- this seems to happen at an exponential rate.

And so the story goes.  Halloween 2009.  At the time I was dating a girl who’s birthday was at the end of October. It so happened that her roommate’s birthday fell right around the same time, so they decided to throw a sort of joint birthday/Halloween party.

The night went like this- keg beer, lots of keg beer, my consumption could probably have been measured in gallons; this was supplemented with a cornucopia of shots, you name it I drank it; and then there were the few games of flip cup I participated in. PERFECT, I was ready to go, nothing could stop me, time to hit the bars.

Bar # 1 – I was now at the level of intoxication where I think I am inherently wealthy and feel the need to buy a round of shots for everyone within a 10′ radius of me. I remember the first shot, rupplemintz – GREAT IDEA!

I don’t remember much of the bar scene after that initial round; but from some forensic investigating I conducted in the days that followed, mainly examining my three separate tabs (all different cards,) subsequent bars were visited and many shots consumed.

Fast Forward – A couple of hours later we were back at the house for the after party – yeah, this thing doesn’t stop.  I start emerging from my self induced anesthesia, good, I made it back in one piece, I even somehow managed to make it to the couch and lie down, WAY TO GO!  But wait a minute, it seems that the copious amounts of alcohol I had consumed over the last 12 hours combined with my horizontal position on the couch was making me a little nauseous, make that a lot nauseous, yep I was about to puke.  My body seemed to be paralyzed, so there I was, on this girls nice white couch vomiting a vile substance while a host of characters looked on. Some watched in amusement but most watched in horror (when I say characters I literally mean characters…it was Halloween).  29 years old, and I just puked on myself, just wait it gets better.  I was then thoroughly scolded and clumsily escorted upstairs and thrown into my girlfriend’s bed.

I did attempt one more trip downstairs for an alcohol fueled spirited conversation with my girlfriend, not sure what prompted this one.  There was one eyewitness account that I actually fell up the stairs (vs. down the stairs), pretty impressive.

My first lucid moments the next morning were a bit of a sensory overload; my head was pounding, my mouth was completely dry, my contacts were shriveled up like little raisins in my eyes, my body was totally void of any hydration and my pants were wet, OH SHIT!  MY PANTS…I PISSED THE BED!!!!!!!  At this point I quickly gathered my things, walk downstairs past all of the girls sleeping on a pallet and left, didn’t say a word to anyone.  AWESOME night!  Not only did I puke in front of everyone, but I pissed the bed too, definite high point!  It’s on my way home, with quite possibly the worst moral hangover ever, that I pulled my phone out and tried to make a call; it wouldn’t turn on, great.  You see, my phone was in my pocket when I passed out, it was around the pocket region of my pants that there was the highest concentration of urine; hence my phone not working.  I think I am the only person who has ever pissed on their own phone rendering it useless.

A side note:  Two days prior to the incident I had moved into a new apartment by myself, literally all I had was a bed (I do have furniture now – FYI), so not only did I not have any furniture or cable- but now I didn’t have a functioning phone either. Hungover- this is particularly  lonely and depressing state to be in.  I was forced to go to the Fiesta grocery store down the street to use the pay phone.

Make sure you check out Lilu’s site, and check out her TMI Thursday archives for all sorts of hilarity!

I’m gonna try to keep this short today, mostly due to the fact that I’m busy packing for my move next weekend. Just kidding. I haven’t started packing yet silly face. I’m just extremely ADD and have been sitting here in front of my computer for the last 4 hours, checking facebook, twitter, and watching stupid tv shows… and now that it’s 11:15 and I’m already ambiened up,  I don’t think I have many coherent minutes left in me.

My senior year of college I took an extensive Spanish class, which basically meant 3 hours of non-stop Spanish, 3 days a week. It was miserable.

What could possibly make 3 hours of abburido espanol even more excruciating?

I’ll tell you.

It was one of the first weeks of class, before I had spent a million hours with my fellow classmates and didn’t know anyone very well yet. I sat down, and as usual- attempted to quickly copy the answers from the back of the workbook. Which is something that I don’t understand, but I won’t get into that today.

So I’m sitting there when I notice a peculiar scent. A very pungent scent. To be more exact, it was of the “came from the ass region” variety.

I looked around, not sure whether I should bring it up, as I didn’t know who, or what, it had come from. It was pretty clear from the fact that it wasn’t waning, that someone hadn’t just broke wind.

I examined all of my neighbors, trying to figure out which one of them would be most likely not to wipe very well.

As I looked around the room, I could tell that I wasn’t the only person who was offended by the poo smell. A few people around me were snickering and looking around for the culprit.

I finally decided to speak up, and I asked the boys next to me, jokingly, if they had shit their pants. After a few minutes, pretty much the entire class was talking about the awful smell.

The teacher eventually asked what all the chatter was about. Everyone started laughing, and leave it to my big mouth to speak up.

“Ummmm… something smells REALLY bad in here.”

It was about that time that the quiet boy sitting behind me finally decided to speak up.

“Uh.. well it’s probably because you have a whole load of poop on the bottom of your shoe…”

I looked down at the foot that I had crossed around my knee, and sure enough… that sumofabiznitch was correct. There was a big load of dog shit on the bottom of my shoe.

Awesome.

Which leads me to last night.

I’m sitting here, at my computer, one leg up on the seat with my knee hugged against my chest like I always do… typing up a post- just as I am now… when I smell something rancid. My two boy roommates were both in the room, so I go ahead and assume it was one of them.

After a few more minutes the smell did not dissipate. I came to the conclusion that it seemed to be coming from me!

I hadn’t passed gas that I was aware of, but I decided to sit for a few more moments just to make sure.

I keep my shit clean people. I mean that as much as one can mean that. I may not shower EVERY day, but I’m clean.

Even so, the scent was coming from somewhere so close to my, well my nether-region, that I was sure of. Eventually, I decided to suck it up and bend my head down to get a closer smell.

EWWWWWWW

Something wasn’t right. I went to the bathroom to check things out, as anyone would in my situation, and came out even more confused. I smelled just fine.

I came back to my desk and assumed my position and the smell was back. Suddenly, I remembered the Spanish class incident and checked my shoe.

All was right in the world once again.

My ass didn’t smell.

There was poo on my shoe.

WIN!!!

Make sure you check out Lilu’s site, and check out her TMI Thursday archives for all sorts of hilarity!

I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t be writing this right now, as it is after 12am and I just had an awesome time out with some great Dallas Bloggers, but I’m gonna attempt it anyway.

I just got off the phone with one of my best dude friends, and got permission to tell this story, which has already been briefly mentioned before, but I feel that it definitely warrants a TMI story of its own… but I’m gonna keep this short…

So my friend, “Sam,” (that’s what I’ve called him before) and I have been really good friends ever since college. I can’t remember whether he didn’t have a washer because he lived in his fraternity house, or if he was just too lazy to do his own laundry, but quite often he would bring his laundry over to my house for me to do for him.

Please take note gentlemen: I am not the domestic type. I would not do laundry for just anyone. This boy is not only one of my best friends, but at the time- I was pretty much in that stage of “OhMyGodILoveYouAndYesIWillDoAnythingYouWantMeToDo.”

So he brings over a big load of laundry and I got started. I begin putting the clothes in the washer, when I came across a pair of shorts that was heavier than it should be.

I’m pretty sure at least that it was the weight that made me look twice, and I wish I hadn’t.

I pulled the shorts apart to see what was making them so heavy… and oh yeah…

Skid lake lay inside.

I screamed and called my roommate to come help me out.

His explanation? He had eaten too much Taco Bueno and then had to move all day. Yeah… and I should have gotten over this one right then… notsomuch.

As Lilu always says: ***Alright, folks, you know the rules. Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, “how many readers can I estrange THIS week??” TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else’s!

Make sure you check out Lilu’s site, and check out her TMI Thursday archives for all sorts of hilarity!

Last week I gave you a video blog of all the things in the world that make me want to vomit.

This past weekend I was reminded of one that I left out… a very important one.

A  little back story.

Sometimes I can’t believe my friend A, is my friend. While she is one of the most fun and awesome people that I know, she is definitely more of a lady than some of my other friends. I could probably think of a ton of TMI stories about most of my friends, but not many about her.

Of course there was that time on her wedding day that I literally had to perform my Maid of Honor doodies and wipe her ass because her dress was too poofy to do it herself.

But that’s a different story for another day.

So last Saturday, my friend A and went out and got a little crazy. We met up with a bunch of our friends for a Birthday shenanigan… eventually I passed out, she woke me up and peeled my head off of the coffee table that I had passed out on (like she always does,) and we went back to her house where I slept on a little couch (while there was a big bed 40 feet away) with my legs propped up.

The next morning I woke up feeling surprisingly chipper. I was ready for a bloody mary and to start the whole adventure again.

She didn’t feel so great.

I could tell from the queezy look on her face, and because I kept finding her sprawled out on the cold tile floor, that she really wasn’t feeling it.

But like I said, she’s a trooper, and decided to join me for day two of drinktivities.

I think I’ve told you this before, but I rarely drive. I’m not very good at it, my car is a disaster… and frankly I get even 10 times more nervous when other people are in my car. Sunday morning, I had no choice in the matter. A’s car was at the bar that we were returning to, and we had no other way of getting there besides my car.

Before A got in my car, I tried my best to brush all the wrappers, empty McDonalds coffee cups, and loose change out of the passenger seat. I turned the ipod onto the calmest music I could find, and I told myself over and over “don’t be jerky, drive smooth,” as I could see that the girl was capable of tossing her cookies at any moment.

After a few seconds of being on the road- she switlyy put her foot up on the dashboard. She said it was because Dashboard Jesus was vibrating all over the place and it was making her nauseous.

Understandable.

After a few more seconds I could see that A was taking very deep breaths. She unrolled the window to get some fresh, freezing air.

I stiffened my shoulders and didn’t say a word.

The rest of the drive continued in this matter.

Just as our destination was in site, the mood shifted. A’s breaths grew quicker and more desperate. As I was pulling up, I could see A digging around through all the empty water bottles and papers and she came up with a plastic bag. At first I thought it was for her to breathe into, but then I remembered you’re supposed to do that with paper bags.

And then it started.

“Blerrrrrrghgggjgjjggjgj”

Oh no. She vommed.

I turned my head out the drivers side window and tried to imagine John Cusack riding toward me on a white horse. Wasn’t working.

With every lurch I could feel my body tighten. My senses were working on overload. The “blaerrethhrrrsaasrrsschhh” sound of wretched vomiting hit my ears like a tornado siren. The sound of the vom hitting the plastic baggy reminded me of a really fat person jumping slow-mo on a jumbo-tron. And in the split second that I looked over to make sure it was landing in the bag, the chunks that flew out of her mouth reminded me of the time that I ran into a glass door while carrying 2 gallons of curdled milk/old beer mixture) and it exploded all over my face. (Also another story)

I could feel my mouth starting to water and my arms start to shake. I tried to put it all out of my brain but the sounds, the smell…. it just wasn’t working!!

Queue in the dry heaves. “Blerrrrrrccchhhh”

I giggled thinking it was just a sympathy heave.

“blerrrrrrcccchhh” Ok maybe not so much.

I opened my door, and for the next ten minutes, A barfed into that plastic bag, while I heaved out the drivers side door. When I was finally able to compose myself, I looked at A and we both had tears in our eyes. Not a word was said. She wiped her hands on her pants, gathered that walmart bag that luckily didn’t have any holes in it, and took it to the dumpster. I wiped my lips and took a couple more deep breaths.

I suppose it could have been worse…

A said she would meet me at the next bar… and she did. The Drinktivities continued on for another 5 hours without another glitch. We didn’t speak of our barf-o-rama at the time… and we probably won’t mention it again until I get married and she pays me back for the vomit story that I told in my maid of honor speech at her wedding.

But it happened. And it was Legend- wait for it- dary.

Love you A!!!

That being said, let’s do this shiz!

As Lilu always says: ***Alright, folks, you know the rules. Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, “how many readers can I estrange THIS week??” TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else’s!

Make sure you check out Lilu’s site, and check out her TMI Thursday archives for all sorts of hilarity!
Due to the fact that I wrote a novel yesterday, I decided to settle for  video blogging, so I don’t have to make you read any more (but mostly because I didn’t feel like writing.) I’m not sure how many of these you have to do before you start feeling comfortable in front of the camera, but I’m still not there yet!

For the first, I present you with the top 10 things that really make me want to vomit.

[There is a video that cannot be displayed in this feed. Visit the blog entry to see the video.]

And even more embarrassing than a simple video blog, I present you with an extremely embarrassing video of me singing a parody that I wrote of “A Few of My Favorite Things,” called “My hated Things.” My boyfriend John Cusack probably won’t like me much after this one. Enjoy, and I’m sorry.

***This is fictitious, and I have not necessarily experienced all that I mention.

[There is a video that cannot be displayed in this feed. Visit the blog entry to see the video.]

And in case there are any of you that have stopped by that can’t watch the videos because you are at work or what not… I told one of my friends about the subject matter mentioned in my videos, and she sent me a picture of her boyfriend’s toenail. Nosir.com

(I think you’ll find it’s quite clear I did this in one take)

[There is a video that cannot be displayed in this feed. Visit the blog entry to see the video.]

Today I’m doing my first guest TMI post ever over at one of my favorite bloggers and new-found friend Tricia’s page, One Step to Recovery; One giant Step to OMG. Please head over there and show both of us some love, and make sure you read some of Tricia’s past posts and follow her blog! You won’t regret it, she is entertaining, honest, and completely made of awesome!

And speaking of guest posts… I have no idea how, but my best friend LA has yet again talked me into letting her post another TMI post ABOUT ME. I thought that she had already shared the most embarrassing “shit” she had in her vault (about the time I shit all in her car) but it turns out- I don’t remember my own embarrassing stories very well. So without further adoodoo, I hand the mic over to LA, and I’m gonna go cry and eat a bag of oreos.

As Lilu always says: ***Alright, folks, you know the rules. Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, “how many readers can I estrange THIS week??” TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else’s!

Make sure you check out Lilu’s site today for her special post secret TMI edition, and check out her TMI Thursday archives for all sorts of hilarity!

Hola friends of Carissajaded,

This is now my second attempt at a guest blog for Carissajaded, and let’s hope this one reads a little better than the last. My previous entry may have been written on the eve of my birthday after a bit of celebrating.

I think that it has been said before that CJ and I have a bit of an “unhealthy” relationship. I may even have a broken engagement to show for it… my bad. Regardless, I wouldn’t trade it for the world. That being said, there have been a few instances when that line between being mere friends, and the things that you only tell/do/keep to yourself has been crossed. This is definitely an example of that.

It was long time ago in college when this incident took place. In those days we were busy drinking, eating, smoking, staying up late and doing countless other things to our bodies that don’t exactly bode well for a healthy digestive system. It was one Sunday in particular where it seemed that the deadly combination of the aforementioned vices had finally taken their toll on a certain somebody’s already delicate digestive track. Here’s a snippet of the things anyone could have heard throughout our apartment on that afternoon:

“Uuuuughhh, my stomach”.

“I feel soooo bloated”.

“Why can’t I poop”?

“Stop farting in my room and running away”!

You know, the usual things that you’re thinking in your head when a case of constipation comes your way, but that you choose not to say out loud – because it’s disgusting and generally bad manners. The scene was really that of a bad Pepto Bismol commercial…Or in this instance, Fleet.

After an entire day of the groaning, I couldn’t take it anymore. You see, in our relationship, my role is that of the doctor. CJ complains about an ailment, and I decisively give her my diagnosis (nothing is wrong) and my suggested treatment (drink a glass of wine). Most of the time Half the time I have no idea what I am talking about, but when your bff is a ridiculously paranoid hypochondriac, you learn to fake it. In this case however, I was right. I knew what needed to be done and I said it.

An enema.

Yes friends, that is a 5 letter word that no one wants to hear, but it had to be said. After a little convincing about how they are actually a very useful tool that doctors recommend for good colon health, she decided it was her only option. Off to CVS we went.

About an hour later – because for some reason neither of us can step foot in a CVS without spending AT LEAST that amount of time looking at all the “As seen on TV” merchandise and fake eyelashes – we were home. We chose my bathroom as the best option for the deed because I had the master which could be closed off to the rest of the apartment, and also I could shut the inner bathroom door between us. My role was, once again, that of the doctor. I stood on the other side of the door yelling out the instructions of how to assume the proper position (looks very similar to another position that is dirty in a completely more pleasurable kind of way) and administer the “medication.”

She was there. She was in the home stretch. All necessary components were, for lack of a better term, in place. But she froze.

I could hear crying from the other side of the door…  All I could hear in-between the mostly inaudible sobs was, “I can’t do it”. *sobbbbbbb “Please, help me”.

All I could think was, why God, why? Why hast thou forsaken me?

For those of you who don’t know CJ, she would have stayed in that position in my bathroom all night. It’s a rare combination of stubbornness and fear, but when she gets in that state, she’s liable to stay there… forever.

I knew this. I also knew I had to pee. So what did I do? I took a deep breath and I entered the bathroom.

The least she could have done was shift positions so I didn’t walk right into it, but no. There she was in all her glory – assuming the position that I had, just minutes before described to her from the other side of that door. What I would have given to have been back on the other side of that door. The “applicator” was facing me and I knew what had to be done.

I calmly stepped towards her, all the while soothing her with my voice. I described what I was about to do, and with my head half turned and only one eye open…I squeezed. The worst part about it is that you have to do it slowly, and you have to ensure that the bottle’s entire contents are used. After what seemed like the longest 10 seconds of my life, I ran screaming from the bathroom. I left the applicator right where I’d found it.

And that was it. My job was over. My duty – no pun intended – complete.

I can’t say I am proud of what I did, but I am a friend. However, CJ, if you ever need help with something like that again, please call someone else.

A couple weeks ago you may recall me telling you a story about my, ahem, ” friend “that I shall call “Cari.” It seems that Cari has a way of putting her way into interesting situations with guys. Today I will be sharing another one of Cari’s “hook -up” stories. This one is actually a little lamer than some, but still quite funny.

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Once upon a time, there was a girl named Cari.

There was about a 5 year period when Cari had a humongous, nearly embarrassing obsession with the popular boy band *NSYNC. If you asked her about it these days, she would probably deny it at first, but then she would spend 15 minutes telling you the details of how she got to meet them, and even got a kiss from Joey.

But I digress, that is a whole nother story.

One thing you should know about Cari, is that she, at least at the time, tended to fall for boys hard.  She doesn’t have a single “type,” per se, but she does seem to always fall for boys who are passionate. Whether they have passion for riding horses, Nascar, comedy, politics, sports, or music, it doesn’t really matter… as  long as it is  something. I guess you could say she falls with a passion, for boys who have passion. She falls even harder for those who love the same things she does.

Back in her sophomore year in college, Cari met a boy, who we will call Jack, with whom she shared a very special something. Something that should have sent off crazy alarms in Cari’s brain, but you know- sometimes she choose to ignore those blaring signs for the sake of a little attention.

Like many of the boys that Cari met, she met Jack at a local bar. She knew of Jack and his reputation of a ladies man, but didn’t know him personally, and certainly didn’t think he would give her the time of day.

This particular night was Cari’s lucky night. The bar started playing several *NSYNC songs, to which Cari had taken the time to memorize all of the dance moves to. She wasted no time jumping on the dance floor and showing off her moves, and her ability to perform them in a way that would give her favorite boys the justice they deserved. After only a few short beats, Cari was surprised to see that Jack had joined her on the floor, and he too knew all the moves perfectly.

“SWEEEEEEEETTTTT”

At the time, none of this struck Cari as in the least bit odd.

After they successfully pleased the crowd with several performances, Jack offered to buy Cari a drink and they were quickly engaged in a deep conversation about their favorite boy band. Cari casually mentioned that she had several tapes that she had compiled and edited of every single *NSYNC video and performance that they had ever made. Jack seemed very interested in Cari, and she was all too quick to invite him back to her place after the bar.

When they got to Cari’s bedroom, (where there was a wall size poster of the boys that she had stolen from outside McDonalds)  they quickly began kissing. After a while, Jack asked Cari if he could see the tapes, he said he wanted to see her fantastic editing job. She blushed and quickly jumped to get the tape. Afterall, this guy did seem very interested, and what would set the mood better than a little “God Must Have Spent a Little More Time on You?”

She popped the tape in and the kissing and petting commenced. After a few minutes he grabbed her hand and placed it on his buttocks.

Ooohhh Naugh-ty, she thought, and rubbed his cheek awkwardly for a few seconds before she pulled her hand away…

They continued kissing and after a few more minutes he grabbed her hand and put it back  on his butt cheek, this time a little closer to the crevice. This time after a few quick rubs, as she attempted to pull her hand away, he grabbed it and placed it back on his cheek.

Cari was a little confused as to what he wanted her to do, so she tried her best to shut it out and just concentrate on “No Strings Attached” playing in the background, when suddenly he put his mouth to her ear and whispered loudly with his beer scented breath, “PLAYYY WITTHHH MY BUTTTHOLLE…”

Cari was quite taken aback, as no one had ever asked her to compete such a task before. She wasn’t quite sure if she had heard correctly.

“Whhaattt?”

“PLAYYYY WITH MY BUTTHOLE,” he said, unmistakenly this time.

It was at this point that Cari  noticed that during all of this fondling, Jack had shifted so that he could keep a steady eye on the television.

It wasn’t so much the asking to play with his butthole that bothered her, but more so the realization that Jack was way more interested in the boys of *NSYNC, than he would ever be in her.

At that point, Cari  quickly made up an excuse as to why she needed to get up early.. and Jack didn’t seem to be too bothered.

Just as he was about to walk out the door he got a sheepish look on his face.

“Do you think I could borrow that video for a few days?”

Cari obliged to get him to leave, and he promised to return it in a few days, and also that he would be calling her to go out soon.

Cari never saw that tape again.

Cari lived happily after after, and hopefully Jack finally came out of the closet so he could too.

Note: To Cari and all of her friends, Jack is, and will forever be known as simply “play with my butthole.”

The End.

Lilu is out of town for a while, but she has provided us with a series of very special TMI Thursday post secret posts. Make sure to check them out…. And for more TMI than you could ever imagine, check out her TMI archives!

I’m doing TMI a little different this week. I have a friend “Moops” who has asked several times for me to talk about him on my blog.

Well sir, I’ll do better than that. You have officially been email roasted. TMI Thursday style.

The following are emails that I copied straight from an email  conversation that happened yesterday afternoon.

I wrote the first email to a group of my friends when I realized I was having a difficult time coming up with a post for today. Moops spent the better part of the afternoon traveling all over the country for work, so didn’t get to check his email until the damage had been done.

Luckily, he’s a good sport. (I hope.)

Hey friends,

Moops has been wanting me to talk about him in my blog for a while… As I am completely brain dead today,I was thinking that you guys could help me out with thinking of a good story.

I know there must be many stories out there that I could tell that would be considered TMI about our friend in question.

The first one that first comes to mind…

Remember when we were calmly talking in the living room, and out of nowhere Moops reached down his pants, into his butt hole and then proceeded to stick his fingers in my mouth???! Just because ” he had an urge!!!”

I almost had to kill myself by ingesting bleach.

I got him back on the river trip though. heeeheehehee

You got anything better?

____________________________________________________________

RE: TMI

FROM: SCUBA

This happened,

Outside the Coventry Apts. Justin met our across the hall neighbors in his tighty whitees.  He then helped the girl carry groceries from her car up flight of stairs in his undees.  He then slipped on the very top concrete stair and all of the groceries went flying out of the sack.  He was bleeding and scrounging for groceries in front of our new girl neighbor in his undees.  Her boyfriend then shows up as this is going on.

________________________________________________________________________

RE:TMI

FROM: CARISSA JADE

Orrrr……….Maybe I should switch gears and tell about the time Scuba pooed his pants. I was such a nice friend and told him I would do his laundry for him. I almost died when I saw the skid lake underwear in the laundry basket.

_______________________________________________________________________

RE: TMI

FROM: LA

How about the time Moops puked on my couch then had to be taken to bed? Fast forward three hours and he comes storming down the stairs yelling at me me. Upon his return back up the stairs he proceeds to trip and stumble back down to the bottom. To top it off, he jumps up, glares and points his finger at me and says, “Yoooooooouuuuuuu”!

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RE: TMI

FROM: KT

I have a quick couple…

How about the time Moops decided to tell us about his love for couches. He loves them so much that he use to have sex with them, sad but true. Moops use to masturbate by inserting his junk between couch cushions and go to town!

Or how bout the time we went to we walked into an apt. party of people we didn’t even know and Moops drank too much and as usual stripped down to his tightee whitees and the people were so put off they asked us to leave. We do and Moops begins to laugh. Of course we ask “what are you laughing at?” He then pulls out the tube of toothpaste he was so proud to have stolen. His grand revenge for getting kicked out was stealing toothpaste…

Then there is the time that Moops really impressed me. I had just moved in below him and had spoken with him a few times. My roommates were out so I went to go say hi. Moops opens the door and is unquestionably shit faced. We are watching T.V. and I’m telling him a story when he stops me and says “hold on.” He then leans over and pukes the smelliest blach puke onto his carpet, nearly getting it on his boy dog “Jager.” When done he looks at me and says “ok, go on.” Without blinking an eye! Bless his heart!

And then of course there is the time that he asked my somewhat crazy ex-bff to trim his pubes. She then convinces him that he should be blind folded for the event. She did this so pictures could be taken without him knowing. Blindfolded, naked, and holding a beer, Moops let this crazy woman near his manhood with a pair of scissors in her hand! Don’t worry she didn’t hurt him, she just trimmed, but it did make for interesting pics….

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RE:TMI

FROM: CARISSA JADE

HAHAHA I forgot about some of these! Speaking of the puking (not that there aren’t already enough puking stories) I just remembered about the time that I woke up to find a pile of puke at the foot of my bed. That fool woke up in the middle of the night, stuck his head over the foot of the bed, and then straight up went back to sleep.

The funny thing about that night that he stole the toothpaste, is that I’m pretty sure that was the same night we may or may not have dipped someone’s toothbrush and razors into the toilet. Oops.

Oh. And my favorite… (which really needs it’s own post) The night he peed my bed, thank goodness I was on the futon that night (poor shae) That wasn’t really even the bad part. He took the down comforter home and promised to wash it. Three weeks later I go to his loft and that thing was was in his closet with all the other “clean” blankets… and sure nufff …it had never been washed.

And KT. When you get a chance, you must send me those pube cutting pics. I have no idea what happened to my copy. I know it was in my glove compartment for a while- though I have absolutely no idea as to why…

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RE:TMI

FROM: MOOPS

Wow, all of this makes me sound like a really great guy!  I’ll get abnoxiously drunk, puke, piss your bed, might fuck your couch and I might ask you to get some of those hard to reach pubes.  I want to hang out with me!!

Scuba,  speaking of fucking things this one is for you…

I believe this story epitomizes TMI.  This came out of one of those story telling sessions where everyone was boozed up enough to share stories from their sexual past, the story didn’t necessarily have to involve another person, solo acts were admissible.  I’m on a plane and I don’t want the guy next to me to see what I’m writing so I have to make it quick.

So it begins, Scuba, the horny young thing that he was went about the house looking for objects he could have intercourse with, nothing too disturbing or out of the ordinary yet, right?  On his quest for pleasure a furry young thing catches his eye, why of course, what better sexual companion than your favorite over stuffed teddy bear (it might have been a panda).  But hmmm, how to make this lustful encounter logistically possible?  Cut a hole in it!  With near surgical precision (I’m sure) Scuba proceeds to cut a hole ample enough to receive his penis.  Then,  he fucked the teddy bear.

The funniest part is that his mom found the stuffing from the procedure; he told her that a kid down the street went into a rage and stabbed his bear.  So to this day if that neighbor kid is ever mentioned his mom says something to the effect of “ oh that so and so , he’s the one who stabbed your poor teddy.”

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RE: TMI

FROM: KT

It was a cow and he shared that story the same night you shared you love for couch cushions

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RE: TMI

FROM: CARISSA JADE

hahaha ok, thanks guys. I’m gonna have to use all of this…

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Oh yes, in case you were wondering… my friends definitely put the ass in class. Have a wonderful day!

I think not, my friend. But I’m not here to complain. All is good in the life of me. Really great actually. I cannot stop smiling.

WHAT? No complaints about my roommates? No bitching about having nothing to wear? No rants about how I wore my thong the wrong way for 8 hours???

I know? I must be sippin on some sizzurp crazy juice.

Not only is it pay-day Friday and I have a really fun weekend ahead of me, but Goshdarnit! I just found out some people like me!!

I got two awards this week and I’m so frickin excited!

The first is the Kreativ Blogger award from Amber over at  Musings of Amber Murphy! Thank you friend! If you don’t currently frequent her blog, you must check it! She’s funny, extremely genuine, writes way better poetry than I ever could, (she writes way better than I do, period) and most importantly…she once wrote a letter to Tiffany Amber-Theissen.

Candice from That’s Tangly passed this to me a few weeks ago so I’m gonna skip the meme part of it and just pass it on! If you’re up to it, pass it on to 3 other blogs and reveal 7 things about yourself that you haven’t yet shared with the world.

I”d like to pass this on to:

Andhari from Insomniac Lolita… This girl is an uber talented musician, leads a very interesting life, and posts really awesome pictures of hotties with no shirts!

HillbillyDuhn from Hillbilly Duhn’s Times and Tribulations… Because this girl never fails to crack my shit up. Oh, and also she was brave enough to post the best TMI I have ever read. Ever.

Ryan from 365 Days of People… For being the most hilarious hater on the internet. Seriously, there is rarely a time when he posts something that I don’t agree with. I just hope this award doesn’t prompt a “people who give out gay-ass blog awards” post. Or do it. I’ll laugh.

The second award is the Honest Scrap Award bestowed to me from That Kind of Girl from Not that Kind of Girl. Oh my gosh people. I cannot express in words how much I love this girl and am honored that she reads! She is frickin hilarious, inspiring, (my friends and I now play a NTKOG game where we dare ourselves to do things we normally wouldn’t) and has huge fricking pair of boobs. And by boobs, I mean girl balls. I also blame her for infiltrating “dude” back into my daily vocabulary.

For this award, I’m supposed to tell you 10 super personal things that no one else knows. NTKOG decided to put her own spin on it and reveal 10 things that she has learned about herself in the last 10 days. I’m going to attempt a mix of the 2.

Five things you don’t know about me (unless your a stalker):

1. I’m a huge freak. Meaning? I have a dimple thingy at the top of my butt crack. It’s not as weird as it sounds…  It’s like a little hole that doesn’t go anywhere… I’ve met one other person that has one. Let me know if you do too. We can start a club or something.

2. I had an eating disorder in my early twenties. I am really happy that I have been able to lose weight the right way this time, but sometimes it scares me when I get a little obsessive about it. I know I wouldn’t ever go down that path again, and it feels really good to get this out there- but still… I think about that place that I once was in, and it is terrifying.

3. I am horrible with anything that has to do with numbers. I still have to look on facebook to find out my best friend’s birthdays. The only phone number I have memorized is my parent’s. I use my fingers to do multiplication.

4. My bellybutton hole smells, at least to me. I clean it, but I think it still has a funk.

5. I may or may not have just spent the last 45 minutes trying to give myself a Brazilian wax. I may or may not have learned that this is something that you should not attempt at home. (this probably should have gone in the next list.)

Five things I learned in the last 10 days:

1. I really really really hate the time change. Mostly because I forgot how difficult of a time I have driving at night.

2. I am kind of a loser. There are some days when I have the opportunity to go out and be around people, but I would rather sit at home and watch t.v.

3. I need to learn to stop hiding behind my weight. I got so used to using my weight as my excuse not to do things… not to put myself out there dating wise, not to try new things, not to have confidence. I  I still find myself making these excuses.

4. I still have no idea what I want to do with my life. I have had several discussions with my friends about this lately, and it just fucks with my head even more. I have been consciously putting it out of my mind for the last 4 years, and it’s time to deal.

5. I shouldn’t do things (like go stair surfing) when I don’t have health insurance.

Alllllrighty then. If that wasn’t personal, I don’t know what is. Now I get to pass this on to 10 honest bloggers that I love! Check em out if you haven’t already!

1. Alicia from It Aint easy being Cheesy… I recently started following her and she is hill-arious! Plus she posts amazing pictures and we share a common bond of having obsessions with NSYNC.

2. Phronk …  A fellow film lover who also doesn’t  fart. And I don’t love farts so I kind of love him. Plus he has this other badass site Putting Weird Things in Coffee, where he does just that. I may have read the whole thing.

3. M from Only one Way Down… She’s funny, honest, and when she gets on a rant – I kind of just want to raise my fist and yell “oh hells yeah!” Plus she’s a fellow Dallasite, and it’s good to know there are other good people from the area.

4. Candice from That’s Tangly… I have mad love for this girl! Seriously, if I don’t get to party with her before I die, it will be a major loss on my behalf. Plus she is doing great things with her life right now.. CHECK IT OUT!

5. Kathryn from From The Inside… Out… I didn’t know mom’s could be this funny.  Or that I could relate to one so much. Funny. ass. shiz.

6. Matt from A Crown of Thistles… By far the smartest/funniest/best storyteller/knows freaking latin-est person that I have met on the internets. I literally leave his site with my mouth hung open in awe. And not in the dirty way.

7. F.B. From The Change I Wish to See… I recently started following this guy, and I have gone back to read his entire history. And I laughed a lot. Plus he is an amazing writer, and did I mention he loves It’s Always Sunny??

8. One Step to Recovery… Love this girl! I can almost always relate, and she tells it like it is. She just had surgery yesterday and girl, I hope you are feeling better soon!

9. Kirsten from Belly Shirts…. I laugh my ass off at her daily, and because she single handedly started the swine flu epidemic.

10. Lilu at Liveitluvit… I couldn’t leave her out! I probably wouldn’t have found any of you good people if it weren’t for her site, and I FUCKING love the TMIs.

I have seriously come across so many blogs that I love in the last couple months. I love you all!

Moving on to the Fuck my Life portion. This is why I haven’t been able to walk this entire week… (NEVER STAIR SURF UNLESS YOU WANT TO FEEL MAJOR PAIN!!!)

I am that blur of brown hair, BTW.

F.M.L.