Guns don’t always scare me. I’ve shot them from time to time, and I’ve actually enjoyed it. I am from Texas  after all.

I do however, have an extremely deep seated fear of being shot with one, despite the fact that  (Mom, Auntie Linda, and P.J.) please skip over the next sentence) I once played a game of indoor Human Duck Hunt- a game where my friends and I shot each other in the backs with a BB gun.

I can actually pin point the exact moment when my fear came along, and as jokey as I might be whilst telling this story, you have to realize that this was, quite literally, scariest moment of my life.

A few years ago on St. Patrick’s day, a few friends and I went to a bar in Ft Worth that was in walking distance from LA’s apartment. There was a patio out back, and we spent the night drinking green beer and having a blast. A few of our guy friends decided to take off a little early, but LA, Moops, Sally and I all decided to stay back and have one more drink.

By the time we left, we were all quite tipsy… or if I’m really honest, we were down right drunk. We stumbled out the door and proceeded to make our way across a dark parking lot towards the apartment complex. When we were about half way there, LA and I, in our usual fashion, started hitting each other with our purses. Every once in a while, when the moon is right, we are struck with the desire to wrestle, (don’t get happy boys) for entertainment purposes only. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw 2 people walking toward us, but I didn’t think much anything of it at the time.

By the time they approached us, we were so caught up in seeing who could de-foot the other first, that we didn’t get any weird vibes from the two. In any right state of mind, one of the four of us would have thought it strange that the two young people who were not wearing green were standing uncomfortably close to our circle. But no, we kept right on laughing and swinging our purses like drunken asshats.

When one of them tapped me on the shoulder, I assumed it was someone who Lauren knew. I laughed and casually slapped  their shoulder, thinking they were just enjoying the show. After a few more seconds I finally realized that Moops and Sally were laying on the ground, belly down, and one of strangers were standing above them.

I was about 2 sticks away from being this naive.

It wasn’t until saw the gun that I truly realized what was happening. From that point, everything started moving in slow motion. I saw then that they were both holding large, silver guns, and that they didn’t look happy. There was a boy and a girl, both in their twenties. The girl was wearing a large sweatshirt with the hoodie pulled over her face, and the boy was wearing a beanie low on his forehead. Just as I started taking it all in, the girl put a gun up to LA’s head and demanded that she hand over her purse. I watched dumbly as she quickly followed her directions without a protest.

I was then the only one left standing. I can’t remember who, but one of my friends grabbed at my ankle and angrily whispered to “get down.”

“Gimme your purse and get on the ground,” the guy demanded.

Even though I knew what I was supposed to do, I couldn’t make myself move. When I finally remembered how to make my arms work, I struggled with getting my new Beatle’s purse, which had been tightly wound around my wrist for the fight, loose.  When I got it free, I had the thought that I should retrieve my credit card before handing it over. Making what could have been the dumbest decision of my life, I slid my hand into the purse, grabbed the card with my cupped hand, and swiftly put the card in my pocket before thrusting the clutch in their direction.

The guy robber asked me angrily if I had taken something out, and I shook my head to say no before I got on the ground. Luckily they believed me. As we all lay on the ground, the robbers stood over us for what felt like an eternity. Even though my eyes were tightly closed and I couldn’t hear anything except for my own heavy breathing, I could feel the burning of the gun on my back. I was sure that every second would be my last.

After what felt like an eternity, LA shouted  “RUN!” and took off. She was halfway to the gate before the rest of us had even gotten off the ground, but we all followed quickly behind her. I was roughly 250 lbs at the time, but I ran faster than I had ever ran in my life.

Once we were in the apartment, we all got quite emotional. One of my friends who had left the bar early was quick to call one of our stolen phones. The mugger answered and some words (that I won’t repeat) were spoken. The police came and our cards and phones were cancelled.

Looking back, it was quite funny that in the short time it took us to cancel our phones, rap song ring tones had already been purchased and downloaded.

You can bet your sweet ass that none of us slept that night, or slept easy for many nights to come.

So you can probably understand why I got so freaked out when I heard a loud bang out my window the other night. Within seconds LA had rushed out of bed and met me at the office door.

“That was a gun shot, I’m sure of it,” she said.

I screamed something like “OHHOLYFUCKINGSHIT” and ran to the hallway where I slid butt first to the ground. “GET DOWN AND DUCK!!!!”

LA stood above me and calmly told me to get up. “It’s not a drive by, it was just a gun shot. I’m calling the cops.”

So I got up off the ground and dramatically tweeted that gun shots were being shot in my neighborhood. LA went back to bed and I sat up for hours fantasizing about the dramatic shit that went down just across the street. When I drove home for lunch the following day and a moving man and about 4 men mowing the lawn and moving stuff out, I’m pretty sure I was right in my conclusion.

I don’t know the details, but if my imagination serves me correctly, the scenario involved a midget, some drugs, the CIA, and an underground sex tape. I hope I’m wrong.

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!

Per usual, here I am the night before the money is due, AND I STILL HAVE NO IDEA!!!!

I’m sure there are those of you who are going to tell me, “Sure Carissa, what do you have to lose? You’ll end up having a blast!” And you know what? I’m sure that when it is all said and done, that I WOULD have a blast, but we can’t discount the possibility that in order for that to happen I would have to be so balls- to- the- wall wasted that I wouldn’t remember it.

But I’m also fairly sure that there are some of you -who like me, are either on the fence about attending your own reunion, or decided not to go because you felt it wasn’t worth the effort or the money. I’m not even sure if this is how I feel. I don’t know how I feel anymore. I JUST CAN”T DECIDE! SOMEONE TELL ME WHAT TO DO!

Sorry for yelling. I’ve just been thinking long and hard (TWSS) about this one, and it’s a toughie. On the one hand, there are a lot of people that I would love to catch up with. I haven’t kept in good touch with most of my friends from high school and I think it would be real freaking awkward nice to see everyone again. Even more so, I feel like I’ve gotten to “know” a lot of the people who I wasn’t so close with by stalking their Facebook pages, and shizzles, it feels like I was missing out on some really awesome people back then. On top of all that, damn I look good and I want to show off! I kid… No but for real, while I’ve lost all this weight, most of the people I knew back then don’t even know I gained and lost a hundred pounds in the last 10 years, so I feel like that isn’t a good reason to go.

I guess my reservations are probably like a lot of peoples. I’ve heard that the 10 year reunion is kind of like a “show off” parade, where people talk about all of their accomplishments, show off pictures of their children, and talk about their career advancements. Don’t get me wrong great peoples of the nets, I’m proud of what I’ve done over the last ten years, and I have no shame at showing up single at an event like this. (although if John Cusack or Ketchup wanted to go with me, I’d be bout it bout it.)  I am aware that my goals are probably different from most people who I went to high school with, and that I’m not exactly on a “conventional” life path. I am perfectly fine with the fact that most people would probably raise their eyebrows at the amount of pride that I take in the fact that I have performed comedy, that I have been published, that some people actually read my blog, or that I am in fact, content being single. (At least 79% of the time.)

I feel that I have gone through so many changes since high school, and despite living in a world of complete (controlled) chaos, I like who I’ve become. I still have a long way to go, but for the most part (Yay) I’m a hell of a lot more comfortable with who I am today, and I’m a much over all “better” (despite my faults) person than I was back then.

Here’s my thing. I like who I am now. I like my life now. And while there are some things that I enjoyed about high school, I would much rather bring them to me, than take a roller coaster down memory lane back to that time of my life. I would like it better if I could magically just pick a few things that I liked about my high school life and apply them to my life now. Like the ability to wear overalls without people thinking I was a farmer. Or glitter. Or getting ready with a big group of girls before a dance, that was fun.

But you know what was WAYYY better than high school?????

Certainly not Junior High. That was even more awkward. I had like 30 pet mice,  wore nothing but vintage clothes, and really and truly believed that I could communicate with ghosts.  Which was cool, but back then I cared a lot about what people thought of me so I nixed out all of the awkward from my life as soon as I realized it wasn’t cool.

Let’s take it back a little further, shall we? Elementary School. That time of my life was made of awesome. I didn’t care what anyone thought of the fact that I wore Umbros and hand painted t-shirts everyday. Life was fun! I know it had it’s downsides, (like when I wasn’t invited to Brooke’s slumber party, or when some guy called me a one armed pirate because I had my arm in a body cast and an eyepatch on at the same time) but all in all, life was pretty care free. Again, I wouldn’t necessarily go back there- but I’ve been thinking about the 5 things from my personal Elementary experience that I would like to have in my adult life. So let’s do this.

TOP 5 THINGS FROM ELEMENTARY SCHOOL I WANT IN MY LIFE NOW!!!!!

My Tree-House: I had the best. tree-house. evah! While it wasn’t too big, it was perfectly adequate for my needs. (TWSS!!) But seriously, two of my favorite pastimes include making badass forts, and drinking on patios. Drinking in a treehouse would basically be the perfect cocktail of the two. Especially if I had cute boys next door that we could spy on. If that was the case, I would definitely remove the “NO BOYS ALOUD” (I was a poor speller) sign from the wall.

The School Cafeteria: I’ll admit it, while some of the best times happened there, so did some of the worst. I have a clear memory of walking through the cafeteria with my tray and crossing my fingers that someone at the “cool table” saved me a seat, but either way- fun times ensued. One of the worst times in my life was when my 4th grade teacher, Mrs. Honzel, force- fed me green beans and made me drink her tea with red lipstick on the cup, to wash it down. But then I have to remember “The Game.” “The Game,” was almost as fun as the bug game. Everyone at my table would take an item of food from their own lunch, and contribute it to the community tray, then we would mix it up good, and each take turns trying to stomach it. I think it landed a few of us in the principals office… but TOTALLY WORTH IT! Maybe if I go to the reunion I will try to organize a rendition of this particular game… only maybe with drinks. IN ADDITION. Not that I’m as interested in these things these days, but do you remember that a Star Crunch cookie was only five cents?? Or that a NuttyBar was only 10 cents? Or that they served delicious square pizza??? #IWonderWhyIWasFat

Nap Time: Dude, this really needs no explanation. I used to hate it when my teachers forced us to take naps. I would do anything to resist the nap. I’m pretty sure I LITERALLY held my eyeballs open just to prove a point. But if my boss came to me now and told me “Carissa, you must force yourself to shut up and go to sleep for 45 minutes,” I would probably clip her toenails with my teeth. Seriously. Make me take a nap! PLEASE!

Recess: Another given. Fun and beneficial. Can you imagine if we got recess for thirty minutes every day? And I’m not talking about a cigarette break in the back of the office, but a recess where everyone was forced to go outside and “play?” I would be a thousand times more productive. Not only would I have the chance to hone up on my four square skills (because, yes, I was am-haze-ing) but I could also take out some much needed aggression on my co-workers in a friendly game of dodge-ball, or “tie your head up in a teather ball string.”

Talent Shows: I’ve talked a lot about this today, both on Facebook and on Twitter, and I was being quite serious. I’m sick of all these shows that showcase talent. You can take your “American Idols” and “So You Think You Can Dance” and shove em’. (Although I really do love SYTYCD) The real fun is where there isn’t any talent. I wish I had a way to post some of my early talent show videos for you… dancing to Debbie Gibson and Kris Kross… Singing to Night Fever… Lip Synching to New Kids on the Block. Wobbly Arms and no rhythm… THATS where the entertainments at. I would so spend hours making up a dance to Britney Spears, even today.

So basically what I’m saying is that we should have a talent show. What would you do? There’s no rules here.

And also, SHOULD I GO TO THE REUNION!?!?!?

Oh hells yeah, bring it on weekend.

Seriously. This has been one helluva week. I’m trying not to dwell on the bad shit and just remember that soon enough things will be settled and I’ll have a whole new set of problems to deal with.

I’m sure you’ve been wondering what sort of crazy ass shit could I have possibly gotten myself into that would cause me to be so absent from the interwebs, and when I do come around  tweet complaints left and right? (Because yes I do realize I’ve done nothing but complain the last two weeks or so and that’s not usually my nature.) (Sometimes, yes, I can be a nature-made complainer-but usually it’s in jest.) (I also realize the correct word for “nature-made” would be “natural,” but since yesterday was National Grammar Day or something I have declared that today the rest of my life will be “National Aint Usin Correctual Grammatized Wording Days”.) So HA! KELLYYY RIPPPAAAAAAAA!!!

And since it’s my blog and I can whine if I want to, whilst drinking wine I might add, that’s what I might do.

*I’ll start with the worst news first. I just found out that MY BOYFRIEND COULD BE CHEATING ON ME!!! Yes. Perez Hilton (that slimy cock-blocker) reported today that John Cusack is dating Brooke Burns. I don’t even know who she is but she looks like a man and I hope she gets herpasyphaghonnoraids something really painful that can’t be spread to my boyfriend… like a really bad hemoroid. Anyways, someone needs to alert the press that this is false information. Me and my Boyfriend John Cusack are doing just fine. Awesome, in fact. You don’t belive me? See for yourself.

Carissajaded and John Cusack 4-evah!

That pic was taken last weekend when we were just hangin around, eatin some cheese, watching Dumb and Dumber. Awesome day right!? I think we may have even taken it to pound town that day but we have so many times I can’t remember for sure.

Moving on. 

* Why won’t my stuff unpack itself? It has now been sitting in piles around my house for five days and I’m not sure what to do about it. I keep trying to use all the Jedi Mind tricks I know but they aren’t working in my new house. I’ve been contemplating sending a video into “Clean House” or whatever that reality show is called so maybe they’d come do it for me, but even they might be scared.

*My bank account is scaring me into thinking I might need to quit drinking so much wine. HAHAHAHA Just kidding. But maybe I need to stop eating or cancel my gym membership or something. After having to pay for all these moving expenses, I was flat broke. And then???? Yesterday we got our final gas bill from my old house and guess how much that was?  $800.00. EIGHT HUNDRED DOLLARS!!!! FOR GAS!? With the amount of gas that should have paid for in a month I should have been able to light a match down the street and blow that place up. Then who’d be laughing? Oh probably still not me. Turns out we were on some average monthly billing program so now we have to pay all the accrued monthly something or another. It doesn’t make sense to me. But if right now, you have an image of me bending over and being sexually abused by Atmos energy, then you’d be correct.

*My new house is haunted. I’m not joking, crazyness be happenin up in here.  At first I thought it was just a coincidence that I have had two brand-new light bulbs blow out on me, but then other stuff starting happening. Of course there are the weird slams, bangs and bumps (no I’m not talking about my sexual life,) but on top of that- our ghost is all about turning on appliances. Like Monday night. I go downstairs and the kitchen faucet is running full blast. I certainly didn’t do it. LA had been asleep for hours. I went and woke her up just to make sure. And then tonight? Right after I had spent an hour trying to convince LA that we needed to get that lady from the exorcist with a high-pitched voice to come over and cleanse our house,that damn spirit turned the stove burner on. It’s not like it could have just turned by itself. It was on level 6. That crazy bitch of a ghost wanted to burn us down!

But in case you’re reading this: Ghost, I love you. I love most ghosts!! In fact I’ve always wanted to be friends with one! I say the word bitch as a synonym for friend! Things have changed since you were alive. Anyway, so far I think you’re really pretty and cool. Please don’t hurt me.

*Mi coche es un PEICE OF TURD! For the thousanth time this year, my car broke down yesterday while I was driving on the highway. I heard a snap, the power steering went out, and then I sat on the side of the road for about an hour-calling everyone I know to ask them what I should do. As of now my car is STILL in the shop. This realllllly is not helping my moo-lah situation. sighhhhhhh

Well I’m gonna go ahead and forget all of this is happening, and rock on with my bad-self this weekend. And by rock-on I obviously mean that I will be sitting in the middle of my bedroom, listening to sad tunes, trying to unpack my things using only my mind. That’s telekinesis Kyle.

Don’t forget to leave your dare in the comments, fool! Heart.

Writing out the title of this post just brought me back to those uber-dork days. Just thought I’d share that.

My dad’s family has a really amazing farm out near Crawford, TX. My dad recently started staying out there, and I have to tell ya’ll, despite the fact that there is no heat, there is a lot of poison ivy, and there is always the possibility of being eaten by wild hogs-I’m a little bit jealous.

The place is absolutely beautiful and some of my most favorite memories happened out there. There is a lot of land, your typical barn house,  and a little white house that is surrounded by a picket fence… and a creek called “Hog Creek” runs through the land and as a dam and everything. It’s perfect.

Da house

Hog Creek

My sweet grandparent's in front of my favorite tree in the world.

A Cow.

When I was young, my family would spend the weekends out there and my days would be spent catching trees fish, wading in the creek or a metal tub, or walking the grounds playing pretend or trying to get the horses to eat grass out of my hand. Even now my family goes out there quite often to shoot guns and fish.

If you had any doubt I was a true Texan, I hope I cleared that up.

My family decided long ago, that if there were ever any nuclear wars or zombie attacks, the farm would be our meeting place. Besides being near the likes of George W…. I do think that it is the ideal place for an emergency.

I always thought it would be kinda fun to have to live out there on nothing but wild animals and beer.

I think I could survive. I’m sure it would be a little tough, but I could handle it. I mean… I wouldn’t even have to shower very often, or maybe ever. How awesome would that be? I’ve even already learned some very important rules about living off the land. Like a few years ago, my friend LA decided we would paint our faces with the juice that comes out of the pretty fruits that grow on cacti. Not a good idea. Those little fruits have many invisible, yet painful tiny little stickers that will stay in your skin for weeks.

ANNNND I won’t try that again.

But moreover, I yesterday as I was perusing facebook all day for a few moments in my spare time at work- I remembered the main reason that I could never live out at the farm. You see, I saw my dad’s newest facebook profile picture….

Someone in my family tree

Yes. My father decided to change his profile pic. to be a picture of one of my ancestors. I really feel bad not knowing who he was exactly as I’m sure I’ve been told many a time, but regardless-we are related.

Harmless enough, right?

WRONG.

You see, when I was a kid I have always had a very vivid imagination. When I was a child I was scared of monsters under my bed, monsters in the toilet, monsters in the closet, zombie pets, moving dolls, spiders, aliens, the Jabberwalkie from Alice in Wonderland… and a wall in my farmhouse that has pictures of several of my ancestors hanging on it. This being one of them.

I know, I know. They’re just pictures of people whom I share my blood with, but ya’ll don’t understand the fear that their faces put it in my heart. Whenever I walked around the house , especially at night- I could feel their presence. Their eyes follow you around the room. And they all look so sinister. I guess I was afraid that they would crawl right out of those photos and beat me with a wooden paddle or something.

I got my dad to take pics of the others and send them to me. They aren’t the best quality, but you get the picture. hehehe, no pun intended.

OK so this one is a little handsome....

I bet she would wash my mouth out with soap.

This is my favorite. Clearly we are related.

Ok so they aren’t as scary here on this page. But I’m telling you people, in the house, at night… It’s a whole different story!!!!

I wonder what John Cusack’s ancestors look like. Since I am John Cusack’s girlfriend and all.

And don’t forget to ask me questions (in the comments, email, or tweet me bitches!!!) Anything on any topic… and I will answer! Or make something up. I will start answering them next week. Thanks for those who have already submitted some!

Have a humpalicious day!

I hope the year has been good to you. At least most of you. There are a few of you that I hope got audited or something similarly non-life threatening but still a pain in the ass.

I had such an exciting year in 2009, I’m sure I’m not going to be able to fit it all in this newsletter, but since you’re all so curious as to what’s been going on in my ever so eventful life, I’m going to try.

Let’s see. Where to begin.

I started the New Year out last year in Galveston. It was a great time although I closely escaped head injury when I face-planted in the middle of a very nice hotel lobby in front of a wedding reception. Luckily, I came out of it with only a loss of pride and a black eye. We also shot each other with BB guns, which was quite a lot of fun, though not the smartest thing I’ve ever done.

I continued working my low paying job, but  got to spend a lot of time reading about movies and preparing for the 2009 Oscars, at which I was successful at seeing every nominated film. I bet none of you completed such a task.

Near the beginning of the year I had a serious scabies scare. I thought for a few weeks that there were tiny little organisms crawling around in my skin, and I spent many an hour trying to dig and burn them out. Turns out it was all in my brain… but still scary. Scabies (even just the mental kind) are a bitch to get rid of.

Around February I leaned against a door at the top of a flight of stairs, and once again narrowly escaped a massive head injury. I may not have escaped it, but I tell myself I’m fine.

Somewhere around March I decided I was tired of being single and I joined Match.com. While I was asked on several dates, I only met a bunch of losers who had such hobbies as “teaching their cats to use the toilet,” and “learning kling-on,” (which I actually thought was going to be kind of cool, notsomuch. )The most memorable date was when I took a guy to the comedy club that I perform at and ran into some people I hadn’t seen in a while. They proceeded to tell me in front of my date how I looked like I “had lost a whole person,” which I suppose was true, but was also embarrassing.

I quit that shit after a month.

Then I met this  guy at a karaoke bar who turned out to be a swinger.

I quit that shit after an hour.

I met a guy when put up a fake ad on Craigslist saying that I would build professional living room tents and treehouses for hire.

Never even called him back.

Probably my favorite spring night was the night LA and I went to see Joshua Radin and ended up taking the  band out after the show for a good time. The drummer was an excellent kisser,but I’m pretty sure he was on drugs.

There was some other shit too, but I don’t want to excite you too much.

So as you can see I’ve kept a really busy social life.

Hmmm… what else…

Around April I decided to watch the entire Godfather series in one weekend. I thought that was quite an accomplishment. And then the next weekend I watched Lonesome Dove, but I only made it about 2/3rds a way through the movie before I got bored.

Some time last spring my dad and sister let my pet rat out at my family farm because they got tired of taking care of it and thought it deserved to live in the wild… that kinda sucked hairy balls.

The summer is where things really got interesting. I spent most weekend days sitting out at my pool drinking beer and working on my tan. My roommates and I hosted a kick-ass Fourth of July Party which ended with me getting tasered (for fun, not by a cop.)

Hmmm..

In July I started a blog where I got the opportunity to update my friends daily with the exciting details of my life…

hmmmm…

ummm

ok! I know…

For Halloween my friend and I dressed up as “Ghouls Gone Wild” and I narrowly escaped another head injury when a stair skiing incident went awry.

annndddd…

I finally caught up on Dexter season 3 so now I can finally watch season 4… even though LA already told me the twist ending.

hmmmm…

Well, I guess that brings us up to date!

Oh yeah, and last night I backed out of the date with the hot Turkish dude last minute. I know, I know… I still may go out with him next week… He was just way too cheesy, and I think I need to save my dates for people with whom I have more in common with than a love of incense. Instead I stayed home in my pjs with the roomies and watched “All About Steve.”

So yes!! That concludes a year in the life of me. I am so blessed to have so many good friends to share this information with. I hope you have a Merry Christmas and a Wonderful New Year!

Love Always,

Carissa Jaded

And for those of you curious about the tree necklace, you can purchase one here.

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!

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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.

I have either gone out of town or had really big plans the last few weekends- and I’m not sure my body can take any more. I haven’t been able to afford the time or money to get a vaccination to void off the aporkalypse  and I’m a little afraid I’m getting ill, but even more afraid that this lack of sleep is sending me on the fast track to my own personal zombie apocalypse.

I don’t even think that made sense.

But dude, if I really was in the zombie apocalypse, I would frickin love to mow down some zombies! Ever since I saw Zombieland I have imagined that every person on the side of the road is a zombie, and it is my personal duty to smash them into jelly!

I wonder if it is really true that cows and llamas can mate and make hybrid “cammas” that are so stupid that they have to be put out of their misery…

Ooooh! I should see if my roommates want to make a fort in the  living room tonight and eat cheese and crackers for dinner.

Yes…  this is what my brain has been doing to me all week. I’m just going to quit thinking now. But I won’t leave you with just a mumble jumble of a post, because if you are here and still reading, then you deserve to see something of worth… so I’ll do my best.

In light of my new tradition of FML Fridays,  I now present to you with a few images of the hurricane that is my life, that I feel that you should see if we are going to be friends.

If you don’t want to waste your time seeing boring ass pictures that depict how disgusting I am, I suggest you skip to the bottom of this post, where I will truly mortify myself with a video or two.

First, I introduce you to the way that I live… my room.

I mmeannn… the way it just happens to look right now.

My room has been hit. By hurricane me. Sooo sad.

I swear it’s not usually this bad, and honestly it is driving me crazy. I’m going to have to spend a good amount of lovin with my room this weekend.

It doesn’t stop there, welcome to my closet.

My closet also has the swine and is throwing up all over the place!

But wait, at least I make really awesome art! (sarcasm, my friend.)

My wall o' "attempt at creativity"

What’s that you say? You want a close up? I’m not very good at taking pictures either, but I’ll do my best!

And by art, I mean a collage tree.

More, you ask?

Yeah, those were just postcards that I cut and pasted (and then painted a coat of glitter over, of course.)

And yet more “art…”

Yeah. I made a collage of butterflies. What of it?

Oh and don’t worry, I have been destroying furniture since 1996.

Oh yeah, you know you want one!

And now,  I introduce you to my car.

If you can spot my glasses you win a prize. Really, I need them and they're missing.

It’s not always like this (yes it is) but I basically live out of my car and I haven’t had the time nor the energy to clean it out in these hard times. To make matters worse, there is a dead animal of sorts rotting beneath all this nastiness, and it smells of the high heavens. It has rained for the last two days, and I’m fairly sure the moisture in the air has increased the stench ten-fold. I’m also pretty sure that if I got pulled over, I would be arrested for murder. My “there must be rotten food in my trunk” excuse would quickly be dismissed.

But before you completely go off judging my car, and myself for that matter,  I feel  I should re-introduce you to this:

Dashboard Jesus!!

Dashboard Jesus puts a smile on my face every day. However, my car has recently taken on the act of bouncing violently whenever I’m in idle, and it makes Jesus do inappropriate things that make me feel a little bit uncomfortable.

I should also probably tell you that I come from a long line of nerds.

I look like I wasn't happy about posing for this, but that was just a pose.

Have I told you that when I was young, my mother loved to wake me up by blaring the Star Trek theme song, and that I actually kind of liked it? Her most recent act of nerd-dom, is her new found love of Second Life. (Don’t kill me mom!)  I didn’t know much about it until recently, but you can apparently make an avatar that is anything from human to Giant mummy squid. Your options are unlimited. My mother has chosen to make her avatar be an elf, which I actually think is really cool. Well, that may seem irrelevant, but she has recently taken an obsession to all things elven. As I was walking out to leave my parent’s house a few weeks ago, my mom stopped and asked me to put on elf ears for a few pictures. I feigned annoyance for about 5 minutes before I agreed. I(I was really excited inside to get to wear these ears.)

And then she took the liberty to photo-shop me into a piece that she calls, “The Whispering Elf”

(I liked it so much it' is my current facebook profile pic)

Have you met my mom’s tattoo?

NOT as big in person. (pleasssse don't kill me mom!)

I don’t know if you’ve realized it, but I have a very close relationship with vodka…

That is enough to bring on depression.

And in case you haven’t seen enough, I really cannot sing, which is sad- because I realllly love to do so.

I promised you, way back  during my first month of blogging- that I would post these.

Just for a little background…. This was a weekend back in July, when I was going through a break up and not feeling very good about myself, hence probably why I started this blog. On that particular Saturday night, I went to my roommate Jake’s  mother’s birthday party. They rented out a bar and even went so far as to hire a singer to perform. It was awesome! At some point in the night, someone had the bright idea that if they could get me up on stage, it would cheer me up. Well boy did it ever.

This first video is when I first went up and sang with the hired singer, Archie, who had (I am guessing) never sang “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart.” By the sounds of it, I haven’t either.

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

And if you haven’t had enough, eventually after exhausting the hired singer, I started inviting other people to come and sing with me. Here is one of my roommate Jake and my rendition of  Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody.” It’s bad, but if you can stick around to the head banging, it’s kind of funny. (at least to me)

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

Just for shiz, if you’re still interested and insane, (I literally took over the microphone for the remainder of the evening) here is a final video of my roommate Denny and I singing “You’ve Lost that Lovin Feeling.

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

That is all folks. Now excuse me while I go hide in a closet and cry.