WHAT? Where am I? Ya'll are all still here? It's like a timewarp.
When your kid moons you for the first time, it's a coming-of-age moment. He's the Holden Caulfield of ass cheeks. And no xbox for 7 days.
Let's see how many 'likes' I get after comparing my baby to Cartman on facebook.
Nothing says 'oh shit' so directly like the unadulterated sound of baby poop hitting a polyurethane seat.
Calgon LIES. I'm still in the goddamn bathtub.
Also, just sent a freeze-dry-your-pet link to my husband. Heh.
I needed a haircut while home in NOLA. Mom made me an appt at a Beauty Parlor. I'm going to get plastic curlers and a People magazine!
While we were gone, my cat died. Like splayed-in-the-floor up and DIED. He's in the cold eternal now...in the freezer...gah.
You can't have this either. #you'rejusthungry http://twitpic.com/2910fg
You can't have this either. #you'rejusthungry http://twitpic.com/2910fg
FYI: Couples, don't fist bump. And for shits sake, don't do the blowup afterwards.
Thank you for all my 7th Annual 25th Birthday wishes!
Facebook is for Psychos. TM
I'm totally expecting a filmed intervention for my psychiatric reality tv habit.
People gagging at the smell of dogs. Gnomes getting massages. People acting like robots. Wilfred Brimley. Wendnesday night tv, MARRY ME.
Braindead is too a thing. I saw Alvin and the Chipmunks squeakquel today. I ordered my casket immediately afterwards.
At the dentist. Again. And I could swear the Muzak guy is singing "semen...semen for a rainy day..."
Rain. Bad acoustic music. I'd be a pathetic cliche if kids weren't making soulful fart/diarrhea songs out of it in the back seat.
Fine, fine. I'm at @93octane s Ballantyne Adios. Foursq can suck it.
"Someone" in the house dried off dogs all winter with beach towels. And now said towels are needed, they smell like Labradors.
"it also takes 7years for your hymen to grow back." "00h! I can be the oracle of Delphi now!!"
"My vagina lips are going to turn into mushrooms that wiccans would pay a shitload for."
Taking out my phone and tweeting so I don't feel inferior to the gfs. Seriously. I'll jump off your bridge too. Promise.
OH: "bongs. Schloop. Whuuhpthpthpth."
Nothing says 'i'm at the mall' than being sprayed by perfume so much you smell like a French whorehouse.
Just saw a cartoon cow say, "Milk me." further words fail me.
OH: eventually, my vagina is like, goddamn it. Slut it UP."
Just being a debutante douche. Because it's summers eve, darling.
Billy Mays is apparently the new guy in charge of thunder. KABOOM. #2009whatchagonnadoboutit?
The Pancake House was my personal strip club today. The special was scrambled eggs, hash browns and my side boob.
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