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!!!!

Actually I should rephrase that- I was reminded, once again why I hate drinking and then having to use the restroom at public events.

Port o potties are the devil.

No really.

Can you think of a more disgusting  area to experience a few seconds worth of having nothing between your special parts and bacteria-filled air?

In case it has been a while for you, or you live in a part of the world where port o potties garner enough respect for people not to take advantage- I’ll go into a little more detail about what the state of the port o potties looked like outside of the football game.

To begin with, people seem to lose all inhibitions when they are in line for a port o potty. I think as a rule people lose about 4 levels of class when they are waiting in line for a bathroom after drinking- but for a port o potty they automatically drop to  about a level 8…1 being the classiest, 10 being a contestant on Jerry Springer.

For  example, there was a very drunk girl behind us who was continuously yelling at people to hurry up.

“I’m 34 years old people! 34!! I can’t hold it like the rest of you.. Hurry UP! Respect your elders!!”

At one point, after vehemently criticizing my friend for smoking menthol cigarettes, she grabbed the cigarette from my friend’s hand and started smoking it. And she had a very large something gross on her lip. Ewww.

The line was never shorter than a twenty minute wait. After my fourth beer or so, I was pretty much just drinking one beer, then going to wait in line so I wouldn’t have to do the “pee dance,” or worse- do the “peed in my pants dance.” The port o potties were on a slant so that the corners of the stall were at least 5 empty beer cans deep. Of course you cannot flush a port o potty (unless there is a secret button that I don’t know about??) so the stench was just awful. After only a few hours, there wasn’t any toilet paper to speak of, so the smarter people were taking paper towels in with them, and presumably just tossing them onto the floor. There was also no sink, so I couldn’t look at a person without imaging a layer of gunk on their hands.

As bad as this sounds, the worst part of the situation was the layer of people’s business that was all over the floor… and on the seat.

Even early in the day, it was apparent that people were unaware of where their pee was going, but once it got dark, it became a bajillion times worse.

This is a particularly sensitive subject for me, as I will admit that I have had my own problems in this particular aspect of using a port o potty.

I’m not  proud of this moment, but I have shared way worse information about myself, so what the hell.

It was a few years ago at the local St. Patrick Days parade. I was in a very long line, and had been waiting for close to twenty minutes. The urge was really starting to get to me and I was getting into that crazy state of mind where I was no longer thinking about what I was saying or doing. The only thing that was going on in my brain were visions of waterfalls and swimming pools, and toilets. Shiny clean white toilets with candles lining the sink nearby.

As I got closer to the front of the line, I noticed that one port o potty had a slight river flowing out from the small opening at the bottom. After a few seconds of watching it flow, I started tapping nearby strangers shoulders and goofily pointing to the port o potty that was leaking. I was quite tipsy at this point and probably started yelling phrases like “That girl is peeing the Amazon and missing toilet!!” I was partially jealous at the amount of liquid that this girl was emitting from her body when I wanted nothing more than to have my turn, but the more abrasive part of myself was content with laughing loudly at the fact that she had so obviously miscalculated her squat.

As she exited the bathroom, the crowd started laughing and attempted to give the girl high-fives,  but she ran away in what I can only imagine, was a drunken shame.

Well you know what they say, karma’s a bitch.

When I finally got my turn, I went into the stall and had to deal with the difficulties of being a girl in a bathroom where sitting down would be an eternal sin. By this point I had to go very very badly… Add in the logistics of squatting in a very enclosed space where there is nothing to hold on to… and the odds are against you.

I guess I must have used a little too much power and simultaneously pulled  my shirt down a little too far as I put my hands on my knees, because what happened in that little box of filth was enough to send anyone into a fit of tears.

Yes, it’s true.

I somehow peed my shirt. The entire bottom half of my shirt was wet, and I had no sink in which to play it off as water. And by making myself the center of attention by making fun of the river pee-er, there was no way I could walk away unnoticed.

So you can see why, after my port o potty pee fail, I really try to avoid them at all costs… for more reasons than one.

Excuse me while I go hang my head in shame.

We need to have some words.

Before you think that this is all going to be bad, I did have a lot of fun. I especially enjoyed petting the llamas and watching those baby piglets drink from the mama pig. Who knew pig-nipples could be so big?

i heart llamas

Additionally, I really actually enjoyed the diving pirates show. So much that I think I may learn how to dive so that I can join them. Oh sure, it was a little cheezy and I’m a little out of their goal age demographic… but I have a love affair with pirate jokes and this made me very happy.

RRRRRR you serious?

But I do have a few bones to pick with you…  First, I left feeling a little like you ass-raped me a little bit, or at least took advantage of the fact that this was my first time.

I knew you weren’t cheap… but 10 tickets for a tiny beer? Over twenty dollars to ride the Ferris Wheel? And with so many yummy treats with each turn of my head, how do you expect me to resist eating a turkey leg, roasted corn, popcorn, and a tornado tator? You can expect me to forward you a few health bills, as I am positive my stomach will never be the same.

And also, you really should have a warning on a few of your rides that says “Not meant for persons over the age of 26,” because I feel a little bit like my head is going to fall off of my neck I meant it when I yelled “I’m never going to ride a ride again,” and also when I said “I’m too old, too old for this you mother fucker- stop the ride.” And guess what? Nobody stopped the freaking ride.

Alas, even though I am still a little mad at you- I was thankful for all the good people watching that you provided. . I think I saw several people who  (judging on appearances) spend their entire years salary on the fair.

Until next year,

Going to the gym 4 hours a day for the next 3 weeks.

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Guy who sold me the John Lennon Necklace at the fair,

I don’t care what my friends say- there is something very attractive about your long bushy beard. My friends all said that they think it would be smelly, but i tend to disagree. I  could also smell that patchouli oil even from the other side of the counter, and I love it!
I have spent my morning researching different images that I want to order on necklaces from you. If only I can find your business card.

My necklace was definitely one of the better parts of the day, as was your beard.

My new favorite necklace.

I wonder if I could squeeze in a trip to Denver. Maybe I’ll see you at your next show!

Sincerely,

Not a stalker

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To all other patrons of the state fair,

If you went into the indoor arts section and happened to purchase a flattened glass necklace from a man with a very long beard, would you kindly check and see if you picked up a business card? And then just forward me that email address.

Thanks so much,

Not desperate

_________________________________________________________________________

Dear zombie shirt boy,

I really did enjoy talking to you the other night but I know I acted a little weird the following day. I feel I should explain. I don’t really remember the last part of our conversation and I erased my drunk text messages because I don’t like to feel shame…  but in the event that you got a message from me that said “I am already in love you” 3 hours after meeting me- please either assume that

A. Some stranger broke into my house wearing a banana suit, ate a block of cheese, held me up with a hack saw and then stole my phone and must have texted you himself.

or

B. I was just joking! I’m funny like that!

I’m also sorry if I made my friends called you… I’m sure that was a little awkward.

I’m not usually crazy and I’ll leave it at that because in my experience the people who have to say over and over again that they are not crazy, are usually the craziest.. and I am definitely not crazy.

I understand if you never want to talk to me again but it was very nice meeting you and I think your super cool.

I love you,

I like your facebook picture,

Sleepless in Dallas,

I‘m available every night this week,

Can we at least be friends?,

Not a desperate crazy stalker

___________________________________________________________________________

My dearest kidneys,

I’m sorry. Very sorry.

Love,

NEVER DRINKING AGAIN

___________________________________________________________________________

To several of my Facebook friends who I saw at homecoming,

Sure I know it has been a while, and I probably look a little different than you remember me… But I remember having several conversations with you back in college. I even knew some of you well enough that I considered you a real life friend.

Regardless, I was super offended at how many of you I waved at, with no response. I mean, even if you don’t recognize me- DO YOU NOT WAVE BACK AT STRANGERS? How rude can you be!? I try to smile at all the strangers that pass by, and even more at the ones who are at my college homecoming because there is a chance I know them.

Let me refresh your memory. I’m in the one in the middle. You saw me this weekend. You looked me in the eye, you asshole.

Maybe I don’t have much of a life, but even though we haven’t seen each other for a while, I try to keep up with your life. I look at your pictures from Vegas and your new baby just took his first steps, congrats!! I know every time you have been drinking because facebook friend, you tell me and I listen.

Well I, for one, am not going to stand for this abuse. If you don’t even look at my pictures enough to recognize me- then why are we “friends?”

So just a heads up, don’t be surprised if you get deleted from my friend list. Not that you’ll even notice, but still.

Your not aging as gracefully as I would have thought,

Needs everyone to love me.

Make sure you check back to Lilu’s Archives… You will laugh your ass off!

_________________________________________________________________________

*Some people have more shame than I do, so in an effort to preserve a friendship- I thought my friend might enjoy the retelling of this story in the form of poetry… Because really, this was a very poetic moment in both of our lives, I’m sure. I have already gotten in trouble for telling this story before, but it’s just too frickin funny not to share!

___________________________________________________________________________________

The Legend of the Log

Here doth lie a legend
that has spread far and wide
About a very dear friend of mine
and what came out from their behind.

It was long ago in college
And I will not share my friend’s name.
I’m hoping the fact I’m attempting to rhyme-
Will lighten their level of shame.

I had just moved in to a new place
With 3 girls I did not know-
My friend had eaten a lot of cheese
And finally had to… “go” go.

After a few minutes in private
I hear my friend’s loud cry
For what was laid was way too big,
And the water was rising high.

I usually wouldn’t have cared so much
But I’d only been there one night.
If my new roommates thought I broke the commode,
We’d probably never be tight!

So I went in the room to help my friend
to devise a little plan-
I looked to see what they did lay
and wandered how in the hell did THAT fit in the can.

I didn’t own a plunger,
and I couldn’t find a net…
Neither of us would touch it-
We couldn’t live with that regret

You may not already know this-
buy I’m actually quite smart
I knew the only solution
What to slice that turd apart.

I went into the kitchen
and found a plastic knife,
I also grabbed a plastic fork
Just to be polite.

I know not why the job was mine
but I did what I had to do
Using that fine cutlery
I began to poke that poo.

I literally “cut the crap” my friend,
I sliced up that big load
I did all this to save the day
and flush down the commode.

Ok people! I apologize for my lack of poetic ability! Have a great day!