That being said, I’m really not looking forward to it, especially now that I no longer have a pool and my air conditioning in my car is about to go kaputz. That, and I can already see the thousands of Facebook and Twitter updates from my teacher friends who get to spend a few months doing nothing but reading and sitting by a pool. But for now, I’m trying not to think about summer and instead I’m attempting to focus on the fact that the last few weeks have been abso-fricking gorgeous around these parts. It’s been so glorious that I kind of want to take Mother Nature out behind the school yard and get her pregnant in order to create lots and lots of days just like this, incestual as that may be.

The last few days I’ve really been trying to get the most of this nice weather, because I know it’s fleeting and that in a week or two I won’t be able to move without breaking out into a sweat. As a result I am likely to spend the next few months smelling like a kid after recess, which if your wondering is the mixture of grass and Taco bell. Speaking of, I’ve never understood why parents wait so long to introduce their children to deodorant, but if I somehow end up with a child I swear on sharp cheddar cheese that I will make my kid start wearing deodorant at the age of 5.

Oh yeah, the weather. It makes me really wish I had a hammock. Or some trees in my backyard. Or green grass. Or at least grass that wasn’t covered in stickers and dog poo. This weather always makes me want to be in my grandparent’s front yard. If I were there right now I’d be sitting in one of their butterfly chairs under the giant oak tree, sipping iced tea garnished with home-grown mint leaves out of a bright turquoise glass. If you’ve never drank iced tea out of a turquoise glass, I suggest you go out and buy one stat, because it makes it taste a thousand times better.

I actually acquired a few of my own just a couple of weeks ago. I was having an emotional break-down and went over to my grandparent’s house (across the street from my parents) to let them cheer me up. My grandparents are the best people in the world for cheering people up. If you don’t have your own, I’ll let you borrow mine for an hour or two… but since their the best g-funk parents in the whole wide world I’m kind of afraid you won’t want to give them back. But I trust you… so, maybe.

Any-g-funk-era, a weeks ago I had a lot of drama in my life, and all of their usual tricks weren’t working. My grandmother rubbed my back; told me stories about her own hard times;  fed me graham crackers with marshmallows, a few prunes and a cut up orange; let me pick out a song to play on the Juke Box (Sweet Georgia Brown,) and finally in a moment of exasperation she started trying to give me things. As much as I have always loved her gifts, I really hate when she starts trying to give me stuff, especially when I think her motive is to make me feel better… I guess it makes me feel guilty. I went ahead and accepted a couple books, (one was an 1890′s Guide to Good Girl Ettiquete!!) and then she pulled out a set of turquoise glasses that, as many times as I said no, she insisted that I keep.

They aren’t really so much a set, but a bunch of different ones that she has collected from antique stores and such over the years. Each one is a little bit different, but they are all beautiful!

And let me tell you, I’m glad I finally accepted. I have been drinking out of them every day, and liquids have never tasted better. Even the liquids that aren’t tea.

So please, get yourself a turquoise glass or two and you won’t be sorry!

First we have to rewind a few weeks back.  I was at my parent’s house and decided I needed a few new CDs to listen to on my way back to Dallas. I was a little short on cash, so I decided to obtain them the free-est way I knew how… by purchasing them on my mom’s Itunes account. After I picked out a few that I couldn’t live without (The XX, The New Pornographers, Manchester Weekend) I synced them to my own Ipod. I’m not sure if you are aware, but this is the riskiest thing a gal can do. No less than 3 times have I deleted my Itunes library whilst trying to take music from someone else’s computer, or vice versa.

Since I’ve started the new job I have spent the majority of my music face time on GrooveShark.com, so last night was the first time I’d really given the new play-list a good listen. There was a strong smell of water-hose water in the air, which always  puts me in an excellent  mood, so I was really enjoying myself. After I had  listened to Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zero’s “Home” about 3 times I finally let it move on to the next song in the mix.

When I synced up my pod I must have accidentally downloaded some of my mother’s music because it was a song I’d never heard before- but dude… it really made me want to dance-walk. I mean, I usually dance walk, but this song made me want to DANCE. I have rarely allowed myself to indulge in pop music since my “NSYNC” obsession ended, and I never listen to anything but NPR on the radio, but I swear… this girl had right about the same pitch as I do and within a few minutes I was singing “oooohhh baby, baby, baby” along with her at the top of my lungs.  I immediately started thinking of all the steps I would choreograph if I were still teaching dance, and started experimenting with a few of them right there on the street.

Without looking at my ipod, (I keep it on one of those arm thingies that make you “do the pretzel” just to look at it) I started the song over several times because there was this rap-part at the end that I decided I wanted to memorize.

When I finally looked down to find out who this new pop-chick was, I was freaking devastated.

It was – Justin. Fucking. Bieber.

If that’s not cool, I don’t know who is. And I obviously don’t…

I had seen his name on Twitter’s trending topics and once I looked into it, I recognized his face, but had somehow gone this long without hearing this song. The saddest part about it, is that I’m so late to the game. I KNOW people have been talking about him for months, and I simply ignored the whole fad. It’s kind of like I only recently found out what Crocs are, and last night I had to have my roommate tell me who Justin Cook AND Adam Lambert were… At least I think those were their names.

It kind of makes me feel sad and old all at the same time… It’s not like I have a crush on him or anything, I just kind of dug his sound.

HOLY SHIT!?! Is this the same thing that my mom did 15 years ago when she was obsessed with the Backstreet Boys and Nick Lache!? AM I THAT UNCOOL!???

I’m not sure what to do with this feeling I have. I mean, if I were 10 I’m sure I’d have his posters plastered all over my wall…

But I’m not 10 and I am admittingly kind of a music snob, and now I find out that I don’t hate this fifteen year old shim’s music?!?

Oh and I forgot the best part… When I was on the walk, after I decided to ignore the fact that Justin Bieber had given me the dancing fever and I decided to continue with my dance-walk, two hot boys who were running turned the corner and caught me in the act. Dancing and singing. To Justin Bieber. ( AND NO THEY WEREN”T 15)

I obviously rule.

It did make me feel a little better when I found out that I’m not the only person out of his target audience who has a case of Bieber Fever. I mean he did get nominated for a BET newcomer award.

You know what? I think I may just embrace it. I’ll probably lose my all my follower for this but oh well… I like that “Baby” song, and who knows… I may even like him more once I finish downloading the whole album. I might spend two hours making up dances in my room, and I may even post the videos of it on YouTube. But for now I’ll just do this.

AND YEAH. I  Did this too.

As you may remember, I started a new job a couple of weeks ago, and I’ve abso-loving it so far. The people are great, I love how close it is to home, and my days FLY by! Seriously, before it felt like I was living in the land of 18 hour work days, and now I barely even have time to reach for a kleenex when I sneeze. I said barely people, gross as I may sometimes be- I do reach for a kleenex most of the time when I sneeze, especially when I’m in public. I even keep a bottle of hand sanitizer near-by for those close-nose-calls.

Although, speaking of sneezes, there was this one sneeze in my life that I am particularly proud of. We were at a house party so I made LA accompany me to the bathroom so we could have old-fashioned gal-potty time and discuss the actions of all the Douchengoyles at the party. (Julie mentioned it today, but just in case you missed it- “Douchengoyle” is basically the best word ever! It’s a combo of 2 of our favorite terms for ass-hat boys, “douchecanoe” and “gargoyle”.)

Anydouche, whenever I drink I usually have to sneeze a million times. Actually, I have to sneeze about 5 times after anytime I consume mostly ANYTHING. I have no idea why that is, but it’s quite annoying. I’m starting to think I have a wheat allergy, because it mostly happens when I drink beer or eat anything bready.

So I was sitting on the toilet (#1) when a giant sneeze started to arise from the deepest dark embarrassing parts of my body. I sneeze often, but I rarely have the types of sneezed that literally take over all of my abilities to do or think about anything else. This time though, the sneeze was all encompassing. I’m not sure if I had finished peeing at the point of combustion, but if I hadn’t it definitely shook my blatter clean. I’m fairly sure I didn’t even have to wipe for the next week. One hand was incapacitated with my drink, and the other with toilet paper, so I had no way to cover my mouth, or in this case, my nostrils. After all was said and done, I knew that a fair amount of mucus had made it’s way out of my body, I just couldn’t find where it landed. That is until LA reached for the doorknob to leave the bathroom. Ah yeah… it flew right across the room and landed perfectly square on the doorknob. I probably shouldn’t be so proud, but I kind of am, so judge if you want.

In other news, LA and I finally found some time to unpack a few boxes this afternoon, namely the ones with all of the books in them. It’s weird, for the last few weeks I have felt an emptiness inside of me that couldn’t put my finger on. It wasn’t until tonight when we finally got all of the books up on the shelves that we spent so many hours painting, that I finally realized that I was really missing my books. It’s been over 2 months since I’ve picked up a book to read, which is absolutely crazy for me… It’s not that even I miss reading all that much, although I suppose I do a bit, it’s more that books make me feel good, they make me feel comfortable and at home.

I grew up in a home where books were super important. There wasn’t a room in the house that didn’t have a bookshelf except for the bathrooms… though there were always plenty of books lying around in there as well. Both of my parents are huge readers, and there were weekends when I can remember everyone in my family sitting around in our perspective comfy-spaces with a good book. Even when it was time to eat, or if someone had to go to the bathroom, there was no need to put the book down, we would simply walk around with the book in hand, bumping into walls and each other as we tried to make our way around the house. I probably don’t own a book that isn’t stained with ketchup.

When I was a kid, my mom worked part time at a half-priced bookstore, so I spent much of my summer vacations and weekends there. It was the coolest little place. Each genre had it’s own room. The walls were covered with book and movie posters, and there was a huge section just for comics. I also spent a lot of time hanging out at the headshop next door, but that’s a whole nuther post.

So yeah… books make me feel good. Just having them around me. Plus there is something about owning a collection of anything, and books and movies are my two favorite things to collect. Whenever I get upset or anxious, I will spend hours reorganizing my books and DVDs.

But there is something else about books that I have missed, and since I’ve already gone to a TMI place tonight, I figure I’ll continue on with that.

JOHN CUSACK, If you’re reading… please stop now!

You see, I never really have problems with going… number 2. I keep quite a regular schedule, especially since I’ve changed my eating habits. But lately I feel that things have been a bit off… Then I remembered about the secret magical power that books have for me. I mean… All I have to do is look at a book and I feel like all my assues are solved. I literally cannot walk into a Barnes and Nobles without having to go-go. I have never been able to figure out if it’s the fact that I associate reading with going, or if it’s the smell of coffee… but it is the most natural laxative EVER!

Anyone else have this problem amazing miracle cure with books and bookstores?

And since we’re not on the subject, but ever so slightly related… I read about this really great product today. Whether you have a man or a dog, I think it could really be helpful…

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I know… I’m so white I don’t even need a night light… (I don’t even know what that means)

I’m so white, I make Queen look like Queen Latifa…

I’m so white, I make Casper shit his pants…

Ok I’ll quit.

So here I am quickly approaching day two of my Stay-cation. Did I mention that I’m off this week? Cause, yeah- I most definitely am. Friday was my last day of work at my old job, and next Monday I start a new postition that is much, much closer to home.That being said, for the majority of this week my web-presence is most likely going to be non-existant. I’ll try my best to read as many blogs from my phone, but I probably won’t be able to comment much. I’ve got quite a few things to take care of, plus- I’m spending the majority of my time watching movies and writing up some reviews over at Red Carpet Crash. So check it people!

Lets dive right into these stickies, shall we? For more awesome sticky note greatness, make sure you check out Supah Mommy’s page!

While I’m so super pumped about my week off, one of these days I would truly like a week off, where I have absolutely no obligatgions. More than that, I cannot express to you just how great this Rocky Mountain jalapeno popcorn is. I wish I was famous and could get some sort of endorsement or like 8 years of free popcorn or something, but I’m not. But still.. it’s the shitsizzle.

A few weeks ago, my roommate LA discovered this stuff, and I can’t decide if it is my heaven or my hell. Either way, I’ve been eating an average of 300000000 kernels a day, and so far, I think it’s worth it.

Isn’t it weird how you won’t smell something for years, and then all of a sudden you get a whiff of something that brings a whole life-time of memories back to you? Usually this only happens when I get a whiff of cafeteria food, and I’m brought back to the days when we used to have competitions in my elementary school (and then later college) cafeterias, seeing how many foods we could mix together and then eat. The winner got the best item from someone’s lunch at the table. Today though, I found an old perfume oil at the bottom of one of my old purses. I put it on, and immediately was brought back to my life 3 years ago. It wasn’t the most happy time of my life, but I vividally recalled a few moments that I wouldn’t had otherwise. I’m not sure of what my point in sharing this was, other than- be careful what you smell.

I’ve gotten the opportunity of the lifetime the last few days at the Dallas International Film Festival. I’ve seen quite a few films, and none have managed to disapoint, which doesn’t make for the best fare when you’re out to write reviews. My favorite moment so far? Meeting Clint Howard. I know most of you probably think he’s an ugly sonofabitch… but you know, I’ve always had this weird unexplainable fascination with the dude. So meeting him was pretty much euphorical…

OH GAWD I LOVE ME SOME CHEST HAIR!

I can’t eve start to explain to you how excited I am to be a member of BRTWOA (Bike Riders to Work Of America). I just made it up, but really I’m pumped. How awesome not to have to waste precious money on asshole gas.  YAY!

I also can’t tell you how excited I am about my newest purchase. I have many projects on the way, some of which include my roommate LA, and others which have to do with my dare project. Speaking of, you should really submit a dare, even if you have already. I’m planning on getting many of these dare up and going in the near future, and I CAN”T WAIT. All you have to do is dare me, bitch. I dare you.

I know you probably thought my absence from the web had something to do with the ants eating at my brain, and if you did- you were partially right.YAY for you. But seriously, thanks for all your suggestions on how to do away with my pesky little problem, I’m on them all. Tonight, I try cucumbers. We’ll see how that goes. Keep your suggestions coming, because obviously my traps aren’t doing a damn thing…

I really do. All I want to do right now is have 1 million hours to read everyone’s posts. I feel so out of the loop. I heart you and I hope you remember me in my absense. And maybe I’ll get a chance to get around. Yeah, not like that…

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!!!

Well probably you don’t, but just in case you DO – I have compiled a list so that you can be just as awesome as I am!!

*** Do not try to achieve “hot-mess” status unless you have some good friends around to make sure you don’t take it too far. You will also need some people that you can count on to help put your life back together once it is all said and done. You also will want to surround yourself with patient friends, who know how to have a good laugh.

*Start out your Friday night by jinxing yourself. It’s pretty fail-proof if you utter the remark “I’m not drinking very much tonight,” that you will actually drink that much and probably more.

*Begin the night with double vodka soda’s.

*Supplement drinks with shots.

*Do a few performances at a karaoke bar, including the “always a crowd pleaser” “Total Eclipse of the Heart” – Old School version.

*** A karaoke performance is not complete if you don’t include a leg kick at some point.

*Talk to any person who is willing to talk to you, and tell your entire life story.

*Make your new bar friends look up what you proclaim to be the “funniest blog in the world,” (mine) (which I know is certainly not the case) and make them save it to their phone.

*Go back to the microphone and sing “What A Wonderful World,” in the voice of Louis Armstrong. Again.

*End said performance by saying something like “SORRY IF THAT SUCKED AND IF YOU THINK SO WELL THEN EFF YOU BITCHES.”

*Wake up in the morning 30 minutes before you need to be somewhere that is forty-five minutes away.

*Realize that you left your phone at the bar.

*Realize that your wallet is also missing.

*Scratch that.

*YOU HAVE LEFT YOUR ENTIRE PURSE AT A BAR.

*Drive back to bar and recover your life.

*Arrive at new landlord’s house  to sign your lease 45 minutes late so that he is no longer home.

Put your money in his mailbox, call and leave a message to let him know that you’ve done so.

*Don’t hang up phone after you leave message, and accidentally record yourself saying something to the likes of “this effing blows, we get up early to get this shit taken care of and he isn’t even effin here.”

*Meet up with a friend and drink two of her mother’s Mikes Hard Lemonades.

*Proceed to go to lunch and have 2 bloody marys.

*Take a 3 hour nap.

*Wake up and go to a bar for dinner and drinks at about 6, having not showered and wearing the same clothes you wore the night before.

*Text people that you definitely have no business texting, and that you shouldn’t even be talking to.

*Get your phone taken away by a friend, but it’s for the better.

*Leave the bar at around 10 and pass out on a friend’s couch while everyone else is watching a movie.

*Wake up at 8 with a dead phone,  having no clue where you are.

*Luckily, you will still have time to make the sausage biscuit breakfast at Whattaburger.

*Go to see Valentines Day, looking, feeling, and smelling like three day old dogshit.

*On a Sunday afternoon proclaim with pride that “I haven’t showered since Thursday night!!!”

*Get in your Hurricane car and drive back to hurricane room, where you will ponder on these events and then the ones that you don’t remember so much about.

*Blog about it all so that the whole world has the opportunity to read about your awesomeness.

*Do things to help you forget your night/s.

*Relive it all again when a friend posts pictures of you in your worst state possible.

That. Happened.

There you have it, somewhere around 30 easy steps to be a hurricane.

Happy Monday folksters!!

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!!!

Anyhow, I really have been enjoying reading the “Post It” Tuesdays, but really don’t think I could condense my bitching into a single post it note even if I tried. Though I would love to try if someone would be willing to tell me where you get these “post its.”

I guess for now I’ll just go with “slightly longer than a post it note Tuesday.”

___________________________________

Dear bloggers who do post-it Tuesdays,

How do I do this? And by how, I mean where do you get the post it’s? I’m sure it is very simple, but I am computer illiterate.

Please and thank you,

Wants to be a member of the cool kids post-it club

________________________________

My beloved dog Stella,

As much as I love you and love to cuddle, I cannot really be expected to do so when you smell like sour milk. I am not sure whether or not you have been sprayed by a skunk out there in the country, or if you have been purposely rolling around in cow patties all day, but either way… your scent has become intolerable. Even after putting you through the struggle of a bath, you have continued to smell of rotten cow carcus. I have no choice but to exile you from my bed.

Your ex-cuddle bear,

Cold at night

___________________________________

My bathroom,

Please get your shit together.The bottom of the toilet has been leaking for weeks, my make up drawer is straight up hanging there by a tiny piece of wood, and the shower takes about an hour to drain. I try to treat you with respect and you just keep on making my life more difficult. I really can’t afford the time or effort needed to call a plumber or to fix your problems myself.

I suppose will take blame for pouring the hot wax down the sink causing it to get clogged,

Mistook hot wax in a candle burner for hot oil!!

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Dear Pizza Hut Delivery guy,

How dare you?? My sister, my dad and I drove around for over an hour looking for a pizza place that was open on Thanksgiving night. We finally gave up and settled on Denny’s.  Precisely 2 minutes after I ordered my biscuits and gravy, you walked in holding a stack of warm, fresh, pizzas. My Thanksgiving was already on the shitty side, and you had to come in and rub your deliciousness in my  face.

Shame on you,

Didn’t need it anyway

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To screenwriter J. Michael Straczynski,

I hear that you been given the task of writing both the remake for Forbidden Planet as well as the very anticipated screenplay adaptation of World War Z. Don’t fucking blow it. Please.

Trying hard not to judge you by your work on Ninja Assassin,

Film nerd

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Dear purse,

I know people talk shit about the state in which I keep you. I do it for both of our own good. One of these days I will be able to fulfill my master plan of being able to pay rent from the change that collects at the bottom of you. Either that or spend an entire day playing Photohunt and Tic-Tac Trivia at the bar.

-Doing everything for a reason.

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Impulse buy facial mask,

You promised to moisturize my skin while leaving it more firm and with less wrinkles. As far as I can tell you are a scented wet paper towel with holes cut out for the eyes and mouth. Speaking of the holes, the ones on your masks are not designed to fit the facial structure of any human. I can’t get it to stay on  my face unless I lie down, and frankly, I feel it made me look like the dude from Silence of the Lambs.

Why did I buy 6 of you!?

-Buyers remorseful

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Dear Kitchen,

Thank you for letting us destroy you this weekend in a massive food fight. That was the most awesome time I ever had in our house, though I’ll never be able to eat off your counters again without imagining smears of gravy and mashed potatoes.

Sorry, (not)

Still has potatoes in her hair

If you’re interested, feel free to check them out- Here, and here… but be warned… in my younger years I was pretty much a really cool kid big huge nerd with a lot of angst. I guess you could say some things never change.

This last weekend I came across a notebook that a few friends and I had used to write notes back and forth to each other back in the early years of  high school.  Reading notes that I wrote in the ninth grade was definitely not the high point in my weekend, but I figure that I have already shared some pretty embarrassing shiz with you guys so what the heck!? It’s actually quite interesting, looking back at that time in my life. I remember simultaneously feeling care-free and yet urgent to fit in and be liked. I wish I could say that I never feel that way now. I wonder if I’ll ever be completely secure…

I have not done any editing to the content, except for names.  Enjoy, but keep in mind that I was in 9th grade at the time, extremely boy crazy, and  thought I was a lot cooler than I actually was.

SOMETIME IN THE 9TH GRADE_____________

Hey friends!!

I thought we could use this notebook so we can keep all our notes together. This is my first note of the semester!

NEways.

Scott Wolf looked soooooooooo fine last night on Party of Five! His dark hair, blue mesmerizing eyes, and Dimples!!! I LOVE HIM!!!

-CJ

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Ummm… I’m happy for you, but I just don’t agree. However Ken is in real life and is fine. So is Jimmy. But Chris is finer. So is Brett. I wish he live in Waco or at least Texas. I wish Chris didn’t have a boyfriends. I wish he was younger. I wish Jimmy would realize I exsist. I wish Ken wasn’t so horny. Guys suck!

-G

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Nope! Scott Wolf beats em’ all!

I’m having a crappy day.

-CJ

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Ken is fine. Go to hell. Scott Wolf is too preppy all American cute boy. He’s too good looking and perfect and I don’t find that attractive. Now that one guy I saw this morning with the gorgeous eyes and goatee I saw this morning is FINE!

-G

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Hakuna Matatatatatatatatatatatata!

This morning Juan came up to talk to me That is the first time he REALLY said anything to me except for stupid things in Spanish class.

Scott Wolf isn’t that fine. I mean in a way, but I really like  Gavin Rosdale so much more.

S’s ideal guy: Curly long hair almost to their shoulders, gorgeous blue eyes, $rich$, muscular but not too mach, plays guitar, can sing like Gavin, sexy voice that could give me an orgasm hahaha ,tall, not too tan, British or Australian accent.

S.

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How do you think you did on the test? I missed totalitarian I think. Oh well. I can’t believe u didn’t watch Party of 5. it was great!

What about Chris? and who does A. like? I promise I won’t tell anyone!

-CJ

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Man, Gavin is making me so horny right now. haha jk. but he is FINE! I can’t believe you didn’t watch him last night on tv. Also I still don’t care about Scott Wolf. I think I made a 100 on the test, but not sure. I’m reading Gavin’s lyrics right now. This weekend I’m going to play the beginning of Machine Head on my friend’s electric guitar. hahaha

I also still kinda like Chris even though you think he smells. I don’t LIKE the smell of him, but I usually don’t notice… I don’t think he smells today, does he? U tell me because you sit by him. I sent you an email about Chris but I thought you read it. I’ll tell you who she likes but only between you and me.

Also I like that guy’s hair diagonal from you.

-S

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S,

I like his hair but besides that he is an ugly butt.

G,

Oh gads, 40 minutes til I see him! My Lord! How can I wait that long? HEEELLLLLPPP Meeeeee! Should I just go up to him and say “hey Bobby! You have such a nice ass, body , face and personality. You look especially nice today.”  Hahaha To hell with that. But really, it’s all true! REMEMBER TO TALK TO HIM TODAY. But I know know… what are you gonna say?

WB now!

CJ

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I’m gonna say what I told you I’d say the other day… “Did you call CJ last nite? What do you think of her? So you like her? U gonna ask her out? When?”

And also why are you wearing black sox wih white shoes? Just wondering.

-G.

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Shut up about my black sox! Its a little fashion no-no but I don’t give a damn bc I feel good today, I could fly!! hahaha You are so much taller than Joey! Oh and make sure he knows I’m totally sprung on him and everything. Even if you get a negative response from him like “No I don’t like her and I will never ask her out she is a fat and ugly bitch” Then you still have to tell me…Don’t FORGET OK done talking about him!! I promise!!

-CJ

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Bitch! shut up hoe, I am not taller we are the same height! I won’t forget! Chill Girfriend. Think 2 yourself, “I am such a pretty, sexy, nice, girl, how could he resist the irresistible?” hahaha Don’t worry he’ll be in love with you no matter what.

-G

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G WANTS TO SUCK ON JOEYS’S PENIS AND THINKS IT IS SALTY!!!

-CJ

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CJ WANTS TO LICK BOBBY’S NIPPLES!!!

-G

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In case you weren’t entirely sure that I was a complete loser made of awesome, I’ll give you a visual. Looking at it, I would have no idea what kind of image I was attempting to portray, but luckily on the back of the photograph I wrote “slutty pic.”

So glad to clear that up.

As I typed this out, it became more and more apparent that I  am was  extremely obnoxious and lucky that I have had any friends at all. I think I owe everyone I know in real life a huge hug.

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?

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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.

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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.

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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!