I know, I know… it’s been a kazillion bajillion years since the last time I uploaded this ole’ blog. For a while there, life got so busy that I completely forgot about it. Then one day I googled myself to try to find an article I had published once upon a time… and my blog was gone. I’m not gonna lie. It freaked me out a bit. I may not have the time to come here very often anymore, but I spent way too much time sharing my deepest darkest thoughts on this site to just let it fade away. Plus I have a horrible memory and I like to have a timeline for this particular time in my life.

And thus, I’ve decided to make yet another effort to keep this site going. I’m sure I’ve long been erased from every rss feed… I’m not sure people even use rss feeds anymore. The internet seems to have changed so much in the last year. WordPress is foreign to me. I had to search through years of emails just to find my password. Words are even different. I no longer understand internet speak. The people of the internet seem to have forgotten how to spell simple words… either that, or I may have gotten old.

One things for sure. 2011 has been the craziest year of my life.

When it started I was in an extremely dark place.  I’ve always considered myself a pretty happy person. Sure, I’m emotional as hell… but I had never before  really felt depression. Long story short, I spent the better part of 6 months working on how to get a grip on my life through various forms of therapy, meditation and yoga. I had fallen back into disordered eating, had anxiety about the things I used to love, and for a while I was convinced I had lost my fire.

Then I lost my job and had to get out of town for the weekend. I took a free improv workshop at the Institution theater here  in Austin, and decided not to leave. I signed up for classes, found a part time job, and found a couple of roommates on Craigslist. That was in May. I still haven’t made it back to Dallas.

I miss my friends. A lot. But to be honest, there is a part of me that doesn’t want to look back, at least not yet. It scares me to think about where I was 6 months ago. I know I’ve grown a lot this last year, and there is no way I’ll fall again that deep… but it still scares me. Plus I’m busy as hell here and I love it.

The last few months have been amazing. I’ve met so many wonderful people in this city and I thank all of you for your encouragement. People are good. I look around and I can’t believe how lucky I am to have so many inspirational people in my life. I could have never adjusted so quickly in a new city if it weren’t for my sister, the Austin Improv Community, and the kind listeners who have reached out to me.

And that being said, I owe a long over due thank you to over a hundred of you friends and readers who wrote  recommendation letters to help me land my dream job. I fully intended to write each of you to thank you, but time got away from me and for that, I apologize. Your letters and made me laugh and cry. I still can’t believe how many of you came through for me.

Moreover, I owe this new found happiness to those of you who supported me through my tough times. I know I haven’t been the best at staying in touch, but there are A LOT of you in the blogging community and old friends who put up with a lot of complaining, venting, and whining from me over the last year. You lifted me up and encouraged me to go for my dreams. I appreciate you. And I’m glad to be back in the living. I LOVE YOU!!!

A few years ago some genius, and I do mean genius, created a site called “Jeff Goldblum is watching you poop.com. The site is no longer active, but from my extensive research- (one quick google search) it seems that the whole site was simply dedicated to this picture.

I think there was even a movement to try to get people to print out the picture and post it in bathroom stalls around the world. I know the site is no longer active, but I think I’m going to do it anyway. Maybe I can restart the movement… because goshdarnit, I would die of laughter if I went into a bathroom and Jeff Goldblum was watching me poop.

Or maybe I should switch it up a bit.

This might sound strange, but I’ve always thought that Jeff Goldblum looks nearly identical to Orlando Jones, yaknow- except for that whole skin color thing. So I’m thinking we intensify the whole movement and replace Mr. Goldblum with his identical non-twin…

But then again, my mom (always one to tell it like it is) once told my friend Moops that he looks exactly like Jeff Goldblum… So maybe I should go the obscure route and use his pic instead…

(Isn’t it incredibly absurd that 3 people can look so much alike-ish?!?)

So I think you should all print out that last pic and hang it up in restrooms worldwide. I’m thinking this could really catch on. Or not…

And just so you know…

You know how when you’re down- people start talking your ear, and your ass, and your face off about how if you have a positive attitude good things will start happening?

It reminds me of this corporate job I used to have that was probably the most boring/yet fun/ at least I had health insurance – where they made us watch this “Fish training video”, that was supposed to teach us to choose your attitude. If you haven’t been forced to sit through “Fish Training” -it basically is about these dudes in Seattle who work with smelly, slimy fish all day and LOVE IT because they get to throw fish around to each other and entertain people even though they smell of 27 day old underwear.  I don’t remember the details, but I do remember that they said the phrase “choose your attitude” about fifty bajillion times. At the time, all it made me do was buy a big bag of yummy Swedish fish and try to hit my unsuspecting co-workers in the head with them. And that WAS fun. Kind of.

Sooooo…I spent the majority of last week moping around the house listening to the Grizzly Bear’s and Elliot Smith’s most depressing songs, and purposely slow-walking through the rain (ever notice John Cusack does that in pretty much every movie?) because sometimes it just feels good to wallow in depression. Or not good, but if you’re already there, you might as well make a movie in your head about it.

After I got tired of being wet and cold and mocking Kristen Stewart’s facial expressions-I finally was like, What in the name of Oprah are you doing? Dude. Life is good. Being all passive aggressive and fifteen-year old angsty about shiz that you probably don’t even really care about and won’t matter 2 weeks from now, is just… donkey shit. Life can be hard, families have problems, and work and boys can both suck… Get over it.

Except this face looks more like someone might be following her...

The truth is, when I get like this- more than anything, I find that I’m just bored with life and so I start creating drama in my brain to spend my time obsessing over. At least I can admit that I am an emotional cutter.

So, being the non-nonsensical person that I am, I totes decided that I’d bite the bullet and give this fish/choose your attitude/ positive thinking -a chance.

And by gee golly, paint me purple and sparkly and call my grandmother- I think it’s working.

Good things are happening people.

My shuffle function on the ipod is my friend again. Last week during my semi-mediocre depression it was just pumping out the sad tunes. At one point it even played Jann Arden’s “Hanging by a Thread.” I didn’t even know I had that song. I mean you could have just found out that you won the lottery, that you don’t have any cavities even though you haven’t been to the dentist in like 9 years, and that Zach Braff  has been the one calling from an unknown number and breathing into your ear the last few weeks, and you will still want to cry when you hear this song!!!!

Now my ipod is back to being all jokstery with me and playing Copa Cobana every time I get in my car, and that’s totally cool. I laugh and say “ohhh youuuuu…. you get me every time,” and I change the damn song.

And other good stuff has been happening too.

I got word from the awesomeness that is Candice that the magazine that she writes for wants to run my weight loss story, which made me nearly pee my pants from excitement. I won tickets to go see Timbaland, whom I normally wouldn’t have gone to see, but this whole “positive” thinking led me to believe that it might be fun even though I haven’t listened to “that” kind of music since I quit dancing. And you know what? It was a blast. We danced and met a ton of people that I have already added to my friends for life list. Or at the very least, to my facebook friends  for life list.  In addition, I’ve been really trying to balls up and go for new opportunities in things that I have been avoiding (like performin some funny,) and now it seems I even get some stage time next week. But more about that later…

I think that’s enough butterflies and sunshine for one post.

Except for one thing. I told you a couple days ago that my friends and I got a little noshed last week and made a few dance videos. Well, I finally got my hands on the first one we did.

The sound is a little off and you have to skip to about 1.40, but I promise it’s worth it. LA’s the first one to boogie- and I have been cracking up at the image of her first moves all week. I’m the third up to bat- and I swear- it’s like I literally tried to dance out of my pants, I was so excited.

Enjoy internets. I would only do this for you.

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Pee Ess (what,what???? thanks “Julie”) (go read her she’s fantabulous with three scoops of ice cream a cherry on top) ( Julie -don’t leave yet, there’s one more down there for you)

Attention Dallas Peeps!!!

A few of us Dallas bloggers have decided to blatantly plagiarize off of the D.C.-ERS and have planned a night of kickassery and drinktivities next Wednesday!! This will be my first time to meet ANY bloggers in real life and I am so totally pumped I actually googled “Real life Time Travel Techniques,” with no avail. So even though I have to wait, I figure it gives a few of you DFW’ers time to jump on board!!! Since we are all kind of spread out (TWHW) (That’s what he wishes) we are meeting a bit later than happy hour, but I can guarantee you there will still be happy hours to be had.

When:  Wednesday, February 10, 2010 @ 7:30 pm

Where:  Sherlock’s @ Park and 75

Who’s Coming: Shine, Gofahne, Graygrrrl, Natalie, Mary, and Carissa (me)  (and hopefully you?)

Let us know if you’re interested!!! We would love to have you!!

email me at carissajade@gmail.com

And “Julie” if you want to make a four hour drive, you can totally couch it at my house or in between my gayboy roommates since I know you will love them so much!!

In the mean time though, I figured it was time to check out my google search terms. Every so once in a while, I like to check and see how people are ending up on my blog. I have a huge heart, as you know, and I really hate for people to end up on my page and leave empty-handed. Therefore, I will make yet another attempt of satisfying people’s search terms, just in case they end up back here with the same problems/questions. I have to say, some of you people are extremely fucked up. Even more so than I am!

But here goes!

Make him suck it: I’m not exactly sure what “it” you are speaking of, but girl (or boy) if all else fails, try peanut butter. There is a girl in every high school who would give you the same advice, I’m sure.

I’m in a great mood all day cause I’ve been slapping my troubles away: I do hear it helps!! I’m not sure what you’re looking for, since your already in a good mood… but as far as advice goes, use lube to avoid chaffing!!

Dreaming of poo: MEEEE TOOOO!!!!! I have a recurring “shit myself at work” dream!!  I’ve done a little research on this matter myself, as it has been quite disturbing. I’ve found out that dreaming of poo usually means that there is something in your life that you need to discard of. Or you might see yourself as dirty or negative, which I don’t… so I’m not sure why I have this. According to Freud, “feces is related to possession, pride, shame, money/financial matters, or aggressive acts. So to dream that you are playing with feces, symbolizes your anxiety over money matters and financial security. ” That, I can see.

Stalk Carissa Plano blog: Not cool… not cool at all dude. I dunno who you are, but if you are reading this you are not welcome. The same goes for those who got here searching Carissa Plano blog, Carissa Jade from Waco website, and Hot big boob Carissa Plano….

Scare cockatoos using electricity: I reallllllllly wish I could be more helpful on this one, because I would like to know myself!!! My mom has one of these horribly annoying creatures, and as far as I can tell, your best bet would be to actually stick it’s foot in a socket. I’ll let you know how it goes next time I visit my mom.

Sexy eye patch: Well since you most likely weren’t looking for a picture of me as a child, you were clearly looking for this picture that my mom photo-shopped and sent to me last week. Righhhtt? She thought it was clever because I used to wear an eye patch and all…. hmmph.

Show me a photo of what a condom looks like: Glad to be at your service. DONE.

I am totally jaded after my last relationships and have decided to be alone forever: Hmmm… I feel ya there. But you know what? Chin up young person, (unless your old, mean and dirty) chances are you are just in a very bad mood and things will look better in a day or two. I say, get all dressed up, go to a bar, and find yourself a quick fix. Who am I kidding? That never works. Eat a gallon of ice cream, drink a big bottle of wine, take a hot bath, and listen to some Death Cab… I don’t know if it will help anything, but that’s what I do when I’m feeling that way, and if nothing else- I get a good therepeutic cry out of it!

Why do i like pissing on myself?: Probably because you are either very weird or very cold.

Santa i want the list of all bad girls: Well I don’t have a list of all of them, but you are off to a good start here! I suggest try some porn sites or ask some of those crazy bitches from Jersey Shore.

Making carissa s boobs feel good: Well somebody sure is considerate!!! Lets start with a comfy bra, or if we’re really trying to make them feel good then no bra. Warmth is always good, so if you’ve got cold hands, then stay away! And as far as anything else goes, I’ll tell you if it doesn’t feel nice. Thankyouverymuch.

Ambien writing: I don’t recommend it, or you might end up with something as awful as this post.

What does it mean when some one says and so is your face? It doesn’t matter WHAT it means, all you need to know is that it WORKS EVERY TIME!!

Good hard things to hump maybe a couch: Yes a couch is a good place to start. Also you might want to try the side of a chair, the console of your car, a picnic table bench, a balance beam, a traffic cone, a bar stool, a piano bench, a  microphone,  a teddy ruxpin… Ok I’ve said to much. Good Luck!

Chad kroeger is the face of all the things wrong with this planet: I suppose you are looking for affirmation, and if this is the case then HELL YES, you are correct.

Smell dirty nasty jock butthole –For serious yall, SIX people got here by this search term in December. I would say that you are looking to smell a nasty jock buttholes, the first place you should look is a locker room….

After college she has an enema movie: I’m working on it!! Gimme a few months!

Why does my peepee stick up: I think you might have a Boner. If you don’t know what that is, ask your mommy.

John Cusack’s girlfriend/John Cusack’s girlfriend 2009/ who dates John Cusack: You found her bitches!!!!

Anyway, it really got me to start thinking once again about my own blog, and whether or not I really feel comfortable sharing my thoughts with everyone that I know in “real life.”

Although there are some days that I really wish I had a private blog that I could spill all of my secrets to, I think that I am pretty happy being able to share my most of my secrets to anyone who cares to read.  In fact, it does feel pretty damn good to just put most of that shit out there. I’ve said it before, but sometimes it sucks that I have no idea who knows what about me, but for the most part… you’re eventually gonna find these things out, so I might as well tell you off the bat, right? I have a constant case of word-vom anyway, and within five minutes of being in my company I’m likely to share everything I write here anyways. I can sometimes be a freak, and if you’re gonna judge me- you might as well do it soon.

In fact, sometimes I wish that everyone I knew kept a blog.

It got me thinking about all the people that I have met, that I wished that I could have instantly known everything about them…

For example.

Nearly a year ago,  a friend and I were out for a night of karaoke when I spotted an attractive gentlemen at a booth across the way.

I sat talking to my friend about nonsense, all the while, making crazy eye contact and “bedroom eyes” with said gentleman as he held his own conversation with his own friends (a boy and a girl) at his own booth, that just happened to be in perfect view from my own.

After a while, the “gentleman” (lets call him Corey, because that was his name) came over to my booth and asked if he could sit down.

“Of course,” I said.

We got to talking, and I immediately started really liking this fellow. He was extremely personable and we had a lot in common. (meaning that he too, knew all the words to Meatloaf’s Paradise by the Dashboard Light.)

Eventually, the girl from his booth came over and introduced herself as Jenny. Corey explained that they had been best friends since high school. She seemed nice enough, though a little on the edge- and said that they were about to leave but that my friend and I should accompany them to another karaoke bar nearby. My friend and I didn’t really have anything better to do, (and I practically got on my knees and begged her) so we agreed to go.

We do, and the night starts to turn into a damn romantic comedy. Corey and I sing several songs together, and share  a few kisses at our table not caring that his friends are watching. Eventually, the bar is closing and we reluctantly said our goodbyes.

After we left, Corey and I continue a heated text conversation, and I was down right smitten.

The next morning I woke my friend up and made her listen to all of the details of my late night conversation with Corey, prompting my questions…

“Do you think he’ll call??” “What do you think he meant when he said he doesn’t always know when his free time will come about.” “Did you think that girl was a bit creepy?”

I swear, if I had known his last name, I would have googled that shit.

Corey did call. We talked for a few days, and I thought he seemed like a genuinely nice guy.

Eventually, the conversation came around to my living situation…

Me: “Yeah, I basically live with a bunch of people. Some of them are gay… It’s like a constant party…”

Corey: “Well… my living situation is way more unique than yours…”

Really? Ohholyshitthisisfuckingsarcasticallyawesome.

I prepared myself for him to tell me that he lived with his parents, both sets of grandparents and his 12 cats.

Nope.

Corey: “Yeah… I live with my wife and our child…”

OPEN MOUTH GUFFAW

Corey: “Soooo… I probably should have told you earlier… you actually met my wife. She was the girl…. at the bar with me… I guess we’re in what you would call…  an open relationship .. BUT I reallllly like you. And she did to… and I wanna hang out!!!”

Me:  “You’re wife… being the girl who pulled you away from me as we were leaving the bar???”

Fucking swingers.

If that’s you’re style, more power to you…  I’m not one to judge. But I quickly came to the conclusion that I don’t want to date a guy whose wife witnessed our first kiss.

I never saw him again, but I totally talked to the dude a few more times. Not because I still wanted something to happen, but because I had a million questions about their life style and how it worked. I’m curious! What can I say? (I eventually told this story on the radio while he was listening which swiftly ended our interview-like relationship.)

If he would have had an open blog, I’m sure I could have found out all the answers by myself without wasting several weeks of his (and my own) time, and could have simply read about all the details on my own.

And this is why I have come to the conclusion that keeping an open blog is a good thing, and everyone else should too.

So if you have a freak-flag, wear it proudly… some people may be into that shiz.

And also, if you are a swinger/have more than 1 spouse/have 18 children/are a midget/have decided to change you skin color (I’m talking to you Sammy Sosa)/have appeared on the reality show “Obsessed” or in one of the more interesting episodes of “Intervention”/are in a cult/ have 2 sets of genitals/have an addiction to something outlandish… you should definitely start a blog and send me the link, pronto. I want to read all about your sordid lives.

Image via Wikipedia

At the very least, I would like for the entire world to realize that Nickelback sucks hairy balls!

You know what? That’s not even fair. I am not even going to pretend that I know enough about music to say that they are musically shitty, because I’m sure they have at least a little talent or they wouldn’t be winning Grammys and what not. I do know enough about hearing things to know that listening to Chad Kroeger sing is only about 3 steps away from being literally raped in the ear.

Which is precisely what has been happening to me all week.

I get it Jack FM. You play what YOU want. And that is the exact opposite of what I want about 17 times every day.

Every time I hear those first few chords and his whiny groan of a voice chime out with-”How the hell we end up like this?” a little part of me dies.

And yes, I realize that that this may seem a little hypocritical considering that am writing this a day after posting how horrible of a singer I am myself. But you know what? I don’t get paid millions and millions of dollars to entertain people with my voice. (Though I bet I COULD  get paid tens of dollars NOT to entertain my five co-workers in my office.)

It does please me to see that there really is a lot of Nickelback hate out there. I’ve probably  heard more people say that they hate Nickelback than I’ve hear people say they hate Kanye West. If all the hate, then why are they still all over the radio? I’m starting to be convinced that half the people who say they “hate” this band are just doing it to get on the hateorade bandwagon. Maybe it’s just become trendy to shout out your angst at a band whom you haven’t really even formed a proper opinion about and then go home and buy forty dollars worth of their music on itunes to see what the hate is all about, therefore leading the radio people to believe that people want to hear this Godforsaken music and cause them to play it all freaking day. (I only know this happens because I have fallen for it myself. Thank you Miley Cyrus.)

I’ll be honest. Maybe I haven’t given them a proper chance. It’s not like I’ve heard any of there songs besides the five that are played 13 trazillion times on the radio every day. Nor do I want to.

My hate comes from a very personal experience, one  not even related to their music, (though I still think their music sucks) one that Ive spoken of briefly before.

Back when I was in college, our football team made it to the playoffs  resulting in a bowl game in New Orleans. I was involved in  a drinking spirit organization that went to all the football games and drank cheered from the stands. During After the football game, I went down to Bourbon street to meet up with a friend who had moved away a few years before, and had also come in town for the bowl game.

We met at one of those little stands where they sell the big Hurricane drinks (you know those tall red drinks you can buy on the side of the street with an umbrella stuck in it??) We had  just retrieved our drinks (though I was probably already quite a few deep) when we decided we should take pictures to celebrate our reunion and to show off our Hurricanes.

There were three of us gathered and we all wanted to be in the picture, so I looked around to see if there was anyone around who I could trust to take it.

I approached a group of people nearby who were dressed anywhere from “homeless” to “douche-bag,” but seeing as there was no one else around, I decided to ask them anyway.

CJ: Would one of  you mind taking a picture of us? My friends and I all want to be in it?”

I spoke openly to the group. As I did, the group all shifted their attention to the homeless looking greasy man in the center, who was obviously their leader.

Homeless looking greasy man: “Well sure ladies, I wouldn’t mind that one bit.”

He left his spot in the group and walked past the camera that I held out for him.

CJ: Umm… Nervous laughter.…

Homeless looking greasy man: Where would you like me to stand? As he is already edging himself between my friends and I, putting his arms around our shoulders.

CJ: Tehhehee… actually, we were just gonna see if you could take a picture of us! We haven’t seen each other in a while and don’t really want a stranger in our picture.

The homeless looking greasy man was taken aback. He clearly thought we were joking until we had reposed without him and I was once again trying to hand him my camera.

Homeless looking greasy man’s group finally took notice of what was going on, and all at once started talking.

“Do you know what you’re doing?? one of them said. “That’s fucking Chad Kroeger!!!”

CJ: Okkkkkkk? (and why do I care?)

“The lead fucking singer for Nickelback you bitch.”

CJ: Ohhhhhhh yeahhhhh. (shit!… But still,  who cares? No reason to act like an asshole.)

Homeless looking Greasy man AKA Chad Kroeger: Fuck you, Fuck you bitches.

Then we laughed and ran away as fast as we could.

Looking back, I can understand that he may have been embarrassed to assume that we wanted a picture with him.

Regardless, to tell someone “Fuck you” for not recognizing you? Add in the ability to kill small children with the sound of your voice?

Suck it, Chad Kroeger. I’ll never forgive you.

First off, I have a confession. I totally cheated on my “no drinking for almost a week” pact with myself. I have no excuse, except for I really suck at life. If it makes up for anything, it was only a few beers, and I still didn’t get any sleep. But i did have a good night.

Moving on…

Every month or so I like to take a looksie at the search terms people have used to find my page. I really hate for people to end up on my site looking for some specific information, only to leave dissatisfied and empty handed. Therefore, I will do my best share with you my knowledge about some of the more popular search terms used to get here.

If you came here by way of one of these terms, you’re welcome!

“hairy arse removal pads”

You’re not being very specific, but I am guessing that you are searching for ways to remove the hair from your “arse,” and not remove the hairy”arse” altogether (although I’m sure I can find someone for this as well.) I am no expert on arse hair, but I do have my experience (as you know) with hair on other parts of the body. If your arse hair is especially thick, I’m thinking you should stick with old fashioned shaving. If it is more sparce, you could try burning the hairs (in an open, well ventilated area) just be careful not to pass gas. You could also try plucking them, but you may need ass-istance, and that may be hard to find.

“carissa blog dallas”

There is a chance you actually found what you were looking for. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

“picture hand with red dot due to liver”

Why? Why would you do that to me?  You freakin bastard. I am already really paranoid about a little red dot on my arm and my liver. So sorry, won’t find any information on this here. I try not to think about it, maybe you should do the same. Or try out web MD. But if it makes you feel any better, my doctor said it’s nothing to worry about. But then again, I don’t trust that guy. He once falsely told me I needed gallbladder removal.

“free pant pee poo movies”

I”m not so sure how you ended up here on this one. I can’t provide you with what you are looking for, especially for free, but you may want to google a little word called “scat.” (thank you gay friends)

“do you know that demented person?”

I’ve been called crazy, eccentric, nutty, unhinged, and cuckoo… but never demented so I know that you came here by mistake. Perhaps you were looking for him,  or him, or  her….

“how to make a pair of saggy boobs for haloween costume” (this was how it was spelled)

This was a popular one. There were also a few variations of this search including “home-made saggy boobs” Making Golden Girl boob sag” and “homemade booby.” I am no expert here, but I do have an idea. I say take a pair of pantie hose and cut them off around the calf. Stuff them with sand bags then sew the open end to your shirt at chest level. It doubt it will work, which is why for MY costume, I simply purchased a pair of saggy boobs on the internet. Good luck!

“a dying bird on the road bit my feet”

How very unfortunate for you! First off, you can’t be surprised that a dying bird bit your foot if you were stupid enough to stand in biting distance. You must have been nearly on top of that bird. It’s not like that bird has arms to reach out and pull your foot to it’s mouth. And what did you expect? The poor thing was dying and needed to take it’s anger out on someone!

And yes, you probably have rabies.

“diarrhea every time i urinate”

First off, congrats on your superb ability to spell diarrhea, I never get that right! Second, so sorry to hear about your problem. I wish I could say I haven’t been there. I bet it burns. I’m no doctor, but I would say to decrease the burning sensation, try sitting on a cool washrag or an ice cube. Otherwise, quit drinking so much beer, try to eat some more veggies, and maybe try to squeeze to hold it in.

“effects of swallowing a spoonful of cinnamon”

It’s a good thing you asked before you tried. While this may seem like a fun party trick, I can tell you first hand- there is nothing fun or funny about it. When you first swallow a heaping spoon full, you think you’re going to be able to handle it. After the first little bit goes down, you start to wheeze a little, and small particles of cinnamon start to float around in your trachea. Then you will undoubtedly try to take a sip of water because you are nearly choking to death, which only solidifies the cinnamon into a mush in your throat. At this point, your best bet is to start trying to push it out the way it came in.

“carissa mustache facebook”

There is only one picture that I can think of that you may be referring to:

Unless of course you zoom in, then any of my pictures may apply.

“holy shit its james franco fuck me sideways”

I’m not sure why this brought you here, but I agree full heartily. In fact, I’ll expand on sideways, and go ahead and include any missionary, doggie, fuck! I’ll take any position in the book. I wish I could share him with you… but I can’t let you leave here empty handed, so…

Image by danzden via Flickr

“my pee hole dropped to my vagina”

If this did in fact happen, then bravo to you my friend. Ohhhh… I wouldn’t be too proud or go around telling potential boyfriends or anything (because you are a freak.) But dude! Go turn yourself in for medical research! You could probably make loads of money. And when you do, don’t forget who told you this golden advice.

“pooping”

This is a very broad subject. I think I’m just going to have to refer you to my friend, Dr John Dorian for this one.

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Which was actually what I was posting about, so right on.

That made me curious to see some of the other search terms that have brought people here so far.When I got to looking at them, I realized that I probably did not actually provide these people the information that they were seeking.

I will do my best to provide the information I assume they were looking for now.

* Ernie Bert Gay? – Although there are fervent rumors going around that they are gay-I think its safe to say that all clues point to no. Just because two men live together past the age of twenty doesn’t mean they are gay. Half of the time they didn’t even get along. Also, I specifically remember them having 2 separate beds. Most importantly; really- do you think a gay guy would let his eyebrows get so out of control? I think not.

*Puking on me- No thanks, I’m really not into that sort of stuff.

*How do I know if I’m correctly brushing my teeth? – Do you notice people cupping there hand over their face when they talk to you? If you lick your hand, and then smell your hand does it smell bad? Is your tongue white? If you answered no to all of these questions, then your brushing them good enough by my standards.

*Hairy Ladies- For this, you did come to the right place. If you are looking for advice on how to treat a hairy lady, just never mention the hair and all should be fine. Remember, hairy ladies are people too. If you’re seeking advice on how to tell a lady she is hairy- you don’t need to. She already knows but has probably grown so tired of plucking/nairing/bleaching that she just doesn’t care anymore. If you were looking to meet someone- why yes, I am single.

*Her Morning Breath- I’m not sure why everyone is coming here seeking hygiene advice… but it’s a good thing I’m an expert. I’m assuming on this one that you weren’t actually looking for me. If you were, your search phrase would have been: ” Her morning breath smells of roses and wine.” If you were trying to find out if the band name you want to use is available, the answer is yes- but you should only use it if you’re genre is heavy metal.

*Nair burns look like herpes- Why yes, I suppose they can. But if you are googling this for reassurance, I wouldn’t rely on the voice of the internet to tell you what you want to hear. From one paranoid cyberchondriac to another- you are going to google this every day until you go to the doctor to find out for sure. Just do it already.

*Hurricane Carissa- Really people? this nickname is getting old.

*500 days of shit- You did come to the right place for this one. Just keep reading. I think I’m currently somewhere around day 90.

Basically it is a tool that allows girls to stand while peeing. I know! How has this idea not taken off already?

I now feel a little weird admitting that I would like to pee whilst standing. Not every time or anything. Just in certain situations. Come on, you have to admit that you were curious… as a child at least.

I’m not lazy… not at all. But how awesome would it be on road trips, not to have to worry about the state of the public restroom? Or when you’re camping… you wouldn’t have to worry about falling back into your own puddle when your drunk squatting in the woods. Sounds awesome. I still don’t really understand the logistics of the product… but they describe it as a “silicone funnel design.”

I was kind of thinking it would be something more like a water hose with some kind of suction cup or something.

I read about this on freep.com, in case your interested. I would link to it but it adds an  advertisement on my page that is really annoying.

Speaking of, I know I have been adding quite a few poems, but I have one that directly relates to this – that I will be posting shortly- if you’re interested.

Your  friend ex-friend,

cjaded