I only have a couple of things to say about this photo.
- Today being Friday makes me feel like this
- I wish I could do the splits like this kid
- I wish I could possibly jump as high as this kid
- This kid is a BAMF. If you don’t know what that is: Urban Dictionary it.
- This kid is not only doing ballet like a fucking pro, he’s got a sucker, too
- I bet this kid is a way fucking better dancer than I am.
Sooo, this morning was awesome. I got up at 5am to make lasagna which was pretty stupid, because for some lame ass reason I ended up volunteering for that shit. What? Why did I do that? Why would I volunteer to make lasagna for 60 people?
I’ll tell you why.
Because, I’m stupid, apparently.
Anyhoo, I’m totally looking forward to this weekend. Here are my plans:
- Drink coffee
- Sleep in
- Stay up late
- Read a book
- Work on my novel
- Play video games
- Take a long bath
- Eat
So yeah, that’s about the extent of wtf I want to do this weekend. You know your ass is completely jelly. Don’t hate, bitches.
Don't you totally want to show this to everyone you hate?
Anyway, I miss Paula at The Wily Weez. She’s taking a breather from blogging, but Friday’s just don’t seem the same without the big ole’ FUCK YOU FRIDAY! posts. Maybe we should start one here, in her honor, until she returns. Feel free to post your hate in my comments. We’ll see how it goes.
And, because it was SUCH A FUCKING HIT on my Facebook page, I leave you with this:
Holy fuck.
My senior year of high school was a clusterfuck, to say the least. By this time in my life, my home life was unbearable, my relationships were a mess, and my emotional state was tenuous at best. Jay had moved away a few months before I started my senior year, my mom and I were not speaking, my ultra-religious dad had a baby out of wedlock– which he then chose to have zero interaction with (while this seems like no big deal now- when it happened I was very, very conservative. This was a huge and shocking scandal within our church, as my grandma worked in our church office, my grandpa was a deacon, my dad was a leader in the Singles dept and I was one of the ‘popular’ kids within our youth group of a thousand kids. Our church membership roster was about 20,000 people or so at the time.)
In short, my shit was falling apart at an ultra rapid pace.
Vicki was my dearest friend, and at this point, even my relationship with Wendy Patton had sort of fallen through the cracks. I was, at this point, drinking almost every day after school. I’d go to that little store that was over by that pizza wheel place on Jones, and they’d sell me a six pack of whatever I wanted. I’d take some with me to work, and pass it out to my friends. I’d work my 6 hours after school and then go home, where my dad may or may not be out with his newest girlfriend.
I’d always been close with Ms. Carter, as she’d been my freshman English teacher, and I had her again my junior year. I loved her with all my heart, as she was one of those teachers who kept pushing you to do your best, even if you were at your worst. However, my senior year I was introduced to Mr. Millage; my Marine Science teacher.
Mr. Mill and I hit it off immediately. I was loud, brash, abrasive and obnoxious. The more annoying I became, the more he’d smile. I think he saw through the ‘I’M AWESOME’ exterior I put on for everyone, and knew that inside, I was breaking apart. I began staying after school, more often than not, to help him do random shit around the classroom– but mainly, just to talk. We talked about all sorts of shit. My childhood, my future, my family. My dreams, my fears, my desires. He told me about his wife and his daughters. He loved them all so very much. I wanted, so badly, to be a part of their life, their family. He spoke of his daughters reverently and with a smile. He’d share times when they’d misbehave and I remember being so jealous that they had such a wonderful and patient man as a parent. I couldn’t imagine the freedom they had in their life.
My life began to take it’s downward spiral faster and faster, and Mr. Mill tried everything he could to stop it, but, for me, there was no turning back.
After I quit school and ran away from home, my mom and I had reconnected, but he was really the only adult that I stayed in constant contact with. He begged me to come back to school and even spoke to the counselors and stuff about how we could work out me graduating with my class. I was scared, terrified really, about the direction my life had taken– but didn’t know how to make it better. I was terrified of the idea of going home to my dad, and my mom and I were always so up and down, I didn’t know how I could possibly live with her. I’d stolen from my grandparents and made their life hell and couldn’t go back to them. My life seemed, at that point, hopeless.
My friendship with Mr. Mill never really faded. There were times in my life where we’d talk constantly, with the letters flying back and forth between us, and then there were times in my life when months would pass and we’d not reach out to each other. It never really mattered how much time had gone by– our friendship never waned. Sometimes, those letters contained ‘story starters’ where he’d begin a story and make me finish, or continue it in my next letter to him. Sometimes, they contained word puzzles, or word problems. Sometimes, they’d contain little surprises, like an origami seahorse, once, and another time a dolphin. Once he sent me a cassette tape filled with his favorite James Taylor songs.
Mr. Mill died from bone marrow cancer in 2006, after fighting that shit for 6 whole years. I miss him so much. I wish that he’d been able to meet Jay, before he passed. My husband would have loved him.
I think about him from time to time, and wish he was still here so that I could whisper him my secrets. I thought I’d make a list of the shit I’d tell him, if he were here today.
1. You were right, I was a pretty damn good lil mom.
2. I’ve finally forgiven myself.
3. I wish with all my heart still had all the letters.
4. I still have the seahorse.
5. Your daughters don’t know me, but I creep them on Facebook, sometimes. You would be so very proud.
6. Alea is the young woman I always wanted to be, yet was too weak to be. I wish you could meet her now.
7. Hunter is the funniest kid I’ve ever met.
8. You were right about the shift in my political beliefs
9. You were also right about the shift in my religious beliefs.
10. I finally married a man who could challenge me. You were right about that, too.
11. I remember you holding my one month old daughter in one arm, and a beer in the other, while I sat on the porch of the house my friend lived in, where I was temporarily ‘couch surfing’, crying my eyes out. I remember telling you how I didn’t know how I’d ever be able to make it, how I could ever take care of that infant, when I couldn’t take care of myself. I remember you handing me the beer (I was 19), lighting my cigarette for me, and taking my daughter down the driveway for a walk, while I got my shit together. I drank that whole beer, smoked two more cigarettes and went and took a shower, while you held my baby. I remember my ex husband walking up, and he never even asked who the fuck you were, or why you were holding his kid. He just went inside. That was when I knew I had to get my shit together. For Alea. Because she was all that mattered.
12. Just the thought of ‘pig fest’ makes me nauseous. I was pregnant with Alea during the one you had in 1992, and spent the entire time talking to your sister, Ann. She was rad as shit.
13. I cried when I saw Garth Brooks in concert. His favorite singer is James Taylor, and I cried when he sang those songs. I missed you a whole lot that evening. I wish I still had the tape you made me. It got lost somewhere along the way.
14. I still think about the story starter we worked on for several months. I used a dot matrix printer to print out the pages I wrote and mailed them to you. I was so ecstatic.
15. I learned more about what being a ‘great parent’ and ‘great person’ meant than from any other single source in my life.
16. I never thanked you for everything you gave me. I regret that.
17. I’ve learned that life is short and those we love can be taken far too early.
18. I still remember your handwriting.
I can’t find a photo of you, anymore. I searched the entire internet, to no avail. I found one from when you graduated high school, but that’s not the Mr. Mill I remember.
I wish you could read the book I wrote. I wish you could come drink a margarita at my house. I wish you could teach Hunter how to make paper seahorses. I wish you could talk about current events with my daughter. I’d love to have a battle of the wits between you and Jay.
But more than any of that, I wish I could give you a hug. You were the father I always wanted, the teacher I always respected, and the friend everyone dreams of.
I miss you, Mr. Mill. I can’t believe you’ve been gone so long.
Look, I know that this topic doesn’t touch on most of you. However, I know a few of you ladies who peruse this blog, like me, wear plus size clothing. Now, this isn’t a post about eating or living a healthy lifestyle or anything like that. As a matter of fact, this post has zero to do with anything, except clothing.
Let’s say, for example, that a young lady, size 8, was going to a specialty site, online, that catered specifically to her body type. How do you think she’d react if every model on that site was size 16-22? If she could not get a decent idea of how the clothes would drape/fall/look on someone her size. Now, there are women of all shapes and sizes, but if she’s going to a specialty site, or a section of a site that is specifically for women of her size– then it would be quite frustrating to find the women on that site not be her, or around her size, at all.
Take for example, this dress, which I found in the plus size section of Ralph Lauren’s website. Clothes that are sizes 14-22. The dress below is only available in 1x, 2x or 3x:
*YOU* are not plus sized, lady.
This isn’t the only example of what I’m talking about, either. There are TONS AND TONS of websites/stores that do this nonsense.
I'm sorry but could this woman possibly look like a 4x? Or even a 1x??
And while those sorts of sites annoy me, there is one that just is the most egregious of them all. As a matter of fact, I’ve become SO annoyed by this site and it’s ‘models’ that I no longer purchase clothing from them. I’m sorry but using a size 8 or POSSIBLY a size 10 model to show clothes designed and created for women size 14-28 makes me want to fucking stab you in the eye. Repeatedly.
This woman is not a size 14. I’d be surprised if she was a size 10. She should not be modeling for clothes on for a store that was built on clothes for ‘real’ women. (Which, isn’t really a good marketing slogan, tbh. “Real” women are short, tall, fat, skinny, etc.
Now. Before all you skinny bitches get all up in arms about how people are trying to ‘sell clothing’ and that clothing sells better on skinny models, or looks better, or whatever the fuck you want to say. I want to show you guys an example of a site who does it RIGHT. If you are going to ONLY sell clothes for full figured women, then MODEL your clothes on full figured women, and show us how YOUR site does it better. The clothes I’m about to show you are expensive, but they are crafted here in the US and they are FANTASTIC. I’ve NEVER had something from them suck. Ever.
The women on the IGIGI site are all plus sized women who all have their curves in random and sundry areas. Some have bellies. Some have big ole’ booties. Some have all over plumpness going on. But the common theme here is they have their clothes displayed beautifully on these women.
I love this site sooo much. Ladies if you have a formal event and have been desperate to find something to wear but have been unsuccessful- try this site. Call/Email me with questions, because I’ve bought several formals from them.
Anyway- that’s my rant for the day! Happy Thursday!
(9:49:42 PM) Jana: Bicycle
(8:39:49 AM) Charity: I don’t know wtf this refers to, but I bet it’s fucking hilarious.
(8:55:22 AM) Jana: Response to Freddy mercury
(8:58:10 AM) Charity: I don’t even understand what that means, however, it’s fabulous. I sort of want to ask the google what it means, but, alas, I am afraid.
(9:02:30 AM) Jana: No silly, you sent me a PM Message and all it said was Freddy Mercury? How the hell do I know what you mean? So I thought it was a random thought tuesday and I responded bicycle…now damn it thanks to you
(9:02:39 AM) Jana: I cant get that stupid Queen song out of my head
(9:03:18 AM) Charity: Well, I wanted your first response, and I sent that yesterday. BUT– now that you’ve begun to think about it, aren’t you just POSITIVE there IS something FANTASTIC about Freddy Mercury and a bicycle?
(9:03:40 AM) Jana: other than the fact that he wants to ride his bicycle?
(9:03:56 AM) Jana: I bet it had streamers on it
(9:05:34 AM) Charity: And a giant horn.
(9:06:15 AM) Charity: Also, while I love when my husband sings Fat Bottom Girls, I wonder how many times, when recording, Freddy accidentaly slipped and sang Fat Bottom Boys.
(9:07:00 AM) Jana: that is why it tapers off…so he could say GGbboooys
(9:07:36 AM) Jana: reminds me of capers…I love capers…how can I be hungry for dinner already
(9:07:45 AM) Charity: GET ON YOUR DICKS (i mean bikes) AND RIDE!
(9:08:07 AM) Jana: He just liked it when they bent over the handle bars
(9:08:18 AM) Charity: Well, yeah.
(9:08:19 AM) Charity: Duh.
(9:08:41 AM) Jana: master of the obvious
(9:09:01 AM) Charity: I just read the word “hurricunt” on Oh, Noa . It’s genius. Discuss.
(9:09:59 AM) Jana: so wide even small trailers can fit in it
(9:10:10 AM) Jana: a place for the okies to hang out in
(9:10:31 AM) Jana: so wide it makes a double wide feel small
(9:11:03 AM) Jana: or the way the mountain men talk to their women….instead of hurry up cunt…its hurricunt
(9:11:14 AM) Jana: *insert accent
(9:11:18 AM) Charity: BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHA.
(9:11:54 AM) Charity: Or, when the redneck is telling the friend of his son, Harry, that he can’t come over. “Sorreh, boy. Hurricunt come over.”
(9:12:01 AM) Jana: I saw a picture of google images of a vagina filled with sharp pencils…why?
(9:12:12 AM) Jana: hahahahaha
(9:12:37 AM) Jana: or when they are talking about the ole ball and chain….hurricunt is coming
(9:12:44 AM) Charity: Um. Why would one fill their vagina with anything but ding-dong or fist?
(9:13:05 AM) Jana: I don’t know, once, when I worked in a office filled with boys
(9:13:21 AM) Jana: they played us the video of the girls inserting the fat end of the baseball
(9:13:43 AM) Jana: into her vagina…it kind of was a double edged sword
(9:13:55 AM) Jana: at first you were all…ohhh…hurts
(9:14:01 AM) Charity: Can you tell me which end of the baseball is fat?
(9:14:08 AM) Jana: but then you kind of wondered if you could do it
(9:14:11 AM) Charity: Because, honestly, I don’t know how a round ball has a fatter end.
(9:14:23 AM) Jana: the fat end is the end you strike the ball with
(9:14:28 AM) Charity: That’s a bat.
(9:14:31 AM) Charity: Are you even American?
(9:14:31 AM) Jana: sorry baseball bat
(9:14:39 AM) Jana: yes jackass I forgot the last word
(9:14:48 AM) Charity: And, I must say, the fat end of a baseball bat, that’d be easy to fit in.
(9:15:00 AM) Charity: Just lube that fucker up, she’s good to go.
(9:15:03 AM) Jana: yeah, if you want to whistle when you walk
(9:15:06 AM) Charity: Also, I have to google this when I get home.
(9:15:10 AM) Charity: Actually, I’ll ask Jay.
(9:15:22 AM) Charity: Dude, I shot a 12 pound baby out my vag. A baseball bat is NOTHING.
(9:15:47 AM) Jana: nope…nothing by pure 7 pounders have passed these lips
(9:15:52 AM) Jana: *but
(9:15:59 AM) Jana: shit…I need my first cup of coffee
(9:16:01 AM) Charity: I shot a 10 pounder the first time and a 12 pounder the second.
(9:16:08 AM) Charity: A baseball bat is nothing.
(9:16:16 AM) Jana: 6-7 and 7-0 were mine
(9:16:17 AM) Charity: NOW. We’ll see what Jay thinks about this video.
(9:16:37 AM) Jana: the video was strangley arousing
(9:16:57 AM) Jana: you definately sat in your seat a little different after that
(9:17:26 AM) Charity: BWAAAAAAAAAAHAHA.
(9:18:46 AM) Jana: yeah, it was like a couple years ago
(9:19:04 AM) Jana: they tried to include us in their office boy porn
(9:19:17 AM) Jana: it got awkward after a while
(9:20:29 AM) Jana: new word alert…well new word to my vocab
(9:20:34 AM) Jana: *twatbadger
(9:23:36 AM) Charity: “Cuz twatbadger don’t give a fuck!”
(9:23:49 AM) Charity: Like, could you give a cuntpunt to a twatbadger?
(9:25:47 AM) Jana: hurricunt get over hear and meet your cousin twatbadger
(9:25:50 AM) Jana: *here
(9:26:52 AM) Charity: Hurricunt, get over here and meet your cousin Twatbadger. Make sure you give him a lil cuntpunch for old time’s sake.
(9:27:52 AM) Jana: over dare (insert accent here) thats ole douchecanoe…
(9:40:07 AM) Charity: ovah dere
(9:59:11 AM) Charity: BWAAAAAAAAAAHAHA. I just read your comment on Jen’s site about the butt humping. JAY DOES THIS TOO!
(9:59:50 AM) Jana: yeah, I think that it is instinctive
(10:00:03 AM) Jana: woman bends…man humps
So then, I decided I needed a TOUCH of testosterone. So I copied Jay on her butt humping comment…
(9:59:15 AM) Jay: pfft
(9:59:24 AM) Jay: it’s my ass, ill work it when i want to
(10:01:06 AM) Jana: Jay, jay jay…..exactly what my hubby would say
(10:01:39 AM) Charity: My husband does it in front of my kids constantly
(10:01:48 AM) Charity: it’s a good way to get them to go away and have htem stop pestering me for money
(10:02:11 AM) Charity: Mom, can I please have– (insert dad suddenly butt humping me)–Nevermind.
(10:02:40 AM) Jana: Nice…I have to remember that for the teen years.
(10:02:56 AM) Charity: Yeah. Trust me– you want it.
So then, there was several hours of uninterrupted work. My husband came back from picking up his newly re-soled boots, and picking up items for dinner. This was a big deal because earlier in the morning, he’d asked what I wanted for dinner.
Me: Stroganoff
Jay: (later) the recipe is missing. What else do you want?
Me: Will‘s pork thing
Jay: that recipe isn’t a recipe. Too vague for trial/error. What else?
me: Your mom’s pot roast and gravy
Jay: WTF this is ridiculous. We’re having bean and cheese tacos.
So, that sort of sucked, because I was COMPLETELY fucking excited about some beef stroganoff, but since Alea or someone lost the flipping recipe– that shit was not gonna be done. Anyway, Jay came back from his errands:
(1:06:35 PM) Jay: I improvised something for dinner
(1:06:49 PM) Jay: we’ll see how it turns out
(1:07:30 PM) Charity: Yeah?
(1:07:36 PM) Charity: Is it bean and cheese burgers?
(1:07:45 PM) Jay: that sounds so nasty
(1:07:47 PM) Jay: so much chew
(1:07:49 PM) Jay: no
“So much chew” Gross. Just thinking of something with ‘chew’ is sort of gross. Anyway, I was a little leery of what he was going to make, because his pissy IM earlier about bean and cheese tacos was pretty clear– you aren’t getting a fabulous dinner. BUT THEN SOMETHING WONDERFUL:
(1:08:34 PM) Jay: I’m going to do some tenderloins in a bourbon cream
(1:08:50 PM) Jay: and some red potatoes
Um. That shit sounds orgasmic. I’m totally not even kidding right now.
For those of you wondering, my tyrant of a husband has decided I am *NOT* allowed to have that tiny, adorable little pig that I posted about yesterday. Dick. My son said we should name it Bacon, which was amusing because one of my other readers said the same thing. Bacon the pig. Priceless.
And because it’s just plain fucking awesome, here’s a pic of my kid wiping on the tube last year at BiC Party.
BACON DOUCHE!!!!
lulz. jk, bros.
(12:57:58 PM) Charity: I totally thought you were implying there was bacon douche. I thought to myself, “Self, why would that bitch not use the word ‘douche’…she says ‘fuck’ all the time”.
(12:59:15 PM) Jana: naw, just bacon soap to wash your hoo hoo with
(1:00:14 PM) Charity: Ok, but…let’s think about this.
(1:00:31 PM) Jana: can we not think about this?
(1:00:33 PM) Charity: And this only works with straight couples…but
(1:00:52 PM) Jana: ewww…I don’t want to know about bacon ass
(1:00:56 PM) Charity: Can you IMAGINE how good the oral would be if you washed your hoo-ha with BACON flavored soap?!?!
(1:01:12 PM) Charity: DUDE! Stop and think about it for JUST a smidge.
(1:01:30 PM) Charity: A little more.
(1:01:43 PM) Charity: OK, go.
(1:01:48 PM) Jana: pffftttt
(1:02:06 PM) Jana: muffy bacon
(1:02:25 PM) Jana: bacon wrapped clams
(1:02:28 PM) Charity: WTF does ‘muffy’ mean?
(1:02:35 PM) Charity: A bacon furr burger?
(1:02:38 PM) Charity: BWAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHA.
(1:02:54 PM) Charity: With only one ‘r’.
(1:03:16 PM) Jana: dude, I am slightly gagging…ok…got to go back in
(1:05:00 PM) Charity: I have just created the category of Chick Chat
(1:05:03 PM) Charity: It’s going to be fucking awesome
(1:06:39 PM) Jana: New meaning to pork you….the guys of Porky’s were only looking for a little Bacon bit
(1:06:59 PM) Charity: BWAAAAAAAAAAHAHA.
(1:07:21 PM) Charity: Bacon really just isn’t very good. I’m secretly convinced all you people say you like it just because you think it’s the right thing to say.
So, Jana bailed on me, probably because I fucking scared her ass with a conversation about oral sex and bacon douche/soap for which to use on ones hoo-hah in order to have fabulous orgasms. Actually, I sort of scared myself. So I decided to torment Jenny for a bit:
Charity 1:22 PM
Moist.
Jenny 1:22 PM
OMG YUK YUK YUK
Charity 1:22 PM
Male feet.
Jenny 1:23 PM
won’t touch
Charity 1:23 PM
Spaghetti.
Jenny 1:24 PM
Not happening
Charity 1:24 PM
Douche.
Jenny 1:24 PM
Some chicks should really invest
Charity 1:24 PM
Lipgloss.
Jenny 1:24 PM
love
Charity 1:24 PM
Hair in the sink.
Jenny 1:25 PM
Seriously, clean your shit
Charity 1:25 PM
Body odor.
Jenny 1:25 PM
WHY…There is so much crap to use these days
Charity 1:26 PM
Sweet tea
Jenny 1:26 PM
FAV
But that conversation got supah boring, so I decided to ask Jenny about the bacon douche/soap:
Charity 1:33 PM
So, i was talking about this with my other friend. And, while the idea is a bit…out there– tell me I am wrong when I say– HOLY FUCK. Imagine, if you will, the awesomeness of the oral sex if you used bacon soap to wash your hoo-hah before sex.
Jenny 1:39 PM
Bacon? OMG!!! That’s HORRIBLE!!
Jenny 1:39 PM
POP ROCKS are way more fun
Charity 1:39 PM
Jenny… You put pop rocks in your hoo-hah?
Jenny 1:40 PM
His mouth while down there! YEE HAW
Charity 1:40 PM
Nuh uh. Dude, that shit makes you fucking foam at the mouth. Then your hoo-hah gets all frothy and gross because his shit is all foamy.
Jenny 1:41 PM
LMFAO, it’s complete washable, number 1 and number 2 it makes you jump! LOL
Charity 1:42 PM
I think it would be FAR more interesting to put the pop rocks IN your hoo-hah. You should try that and report the details.
Jenny 1:42 PM
I think I’ll pass
Anyway– then I had to work for several hours, and fix a billion things and what not. But then, right when I thought the day was headed for fail, it miraculously got AWESOME! BECAUSE I FOUND THIS:
And I was all like, JAY OMFG WE TOTALLY NEED TO BUY THIS PIG FOR OUR DOG TO PLAY WITH.
(4:51:51 PM) Charity: I need this.
(4:51:53 PM) Charity: Immediately.
(4:51:55 PM) Jay: you do not
(4:52:05 PM) Charity: I don’t think you understand the depth of my need.
(4:52:22 PM) Charity: Did you even look at it, Jason?
(4:52:23 PM) Charity: Did you?!
(4:52:36 PM) Jay: i did look at it
(4:52:41 PM) Jay: it is not needed
(4:52:47 PM) Charity: How could you not want to procure that for our dog.
4:53:12 PM) Charity: He would LOVE oinking it up with that cutie patootie.
(4:53:33 PM) Jay: no, he would hate it
(4:53:44 PM) Jay: he would be like, ‘when does it become bacon’
(4:54:10 PM) Charity: I didn’t think it was possible you could ruin this conversation…except you just did
(4:55:18 PM) Jay: C-C-CONVO RUINER
It’s a good thing I love him.
No, really. It is.
And now, for my favorite Category: Texts with Jay
(8:27:39 AM) Charity: my computer was broken for the 4th time
(8:27:56 AM) Jay: aw, your new computer?
(8:28:01 AM) Charity: yeah
(8:28:05 AM) Charity: the video card kept flying out
(8:28:08 AM) Charity: it wasn’t in there very good
(8:28:09 AM) Jay: that sucks
(8:28:12 AM) Charity: this was the 4th time
(8:28:18 AM) Charity: i was like dude
(8:28:24 AM) Charity: one of our core values is do it right!
(8:28:29 AM) Charity: he blushed so hard
(8:28:32 AM) Jay: nice
(8:28:40 AM) Charity: poor dain
(8:30:31 AM) Jay: don’t feel sorry for his sloppy bullshit
(8:30:35 AM) Charity: LOL
(8:30:35 AM) Jay: fix ur shit
(8:30:53 AM) Charity: lulz
(8:32:26 AM) Charity:One of the staff just sent out an email to ‘all’ using comic sans.
(8:32:28 AM) Charity: discuss
(8:35:36 AM) Jay: You’re a professional business not a lemonade stand
(8:35:43 AM) Charity: L M A O
(8:35:45 AM) Jay: it’s not cute
(8:35:47 AM) Jay: it’s not fun
(8:35:52 AM) Jay: it’s just fucking retarded
(8:36:04 AM) Jay: I look at that shit and think, “dumbass”
(8:36:09 AM) Jay: and then don’t respond
(8:36:12 AM) Jay: or read it
(8:36:26 AM) Jay: same if you put a fucking background
(8:37:07 AM) Jay: you may think that making your email appear to be written on parchment is a good idea, but you would be terribly wrong, and also stupid, and probably ugly.
(8:37:39 AM) Charity: And also, if you have something moving in your email? You pretty much deserve a cunt punch.
(8:37:57 AM) Charity: Like snow? Oh hell to the no.
(8:38:16 AM) Jay: yes, and you’re guaranteed to have a cunt because if you do that shit, you give up any claim to being testosterone derived
(8:49:26 AM) Jay: if i die from being allergic to air, please know that i loved you with all my heart
(8:50:46 AM) Charity: Awww. Don’t die. I have more pans to buy. Thanks.
(8:51:52 AM) Jay: im a swollen red mucusy mess — im like a walking well-fucked vagina
(8:52:31 AM) Charity: o.o
(9:00:00 AM) Charity: I’m not sure a well-fucked vagina is…mucusy, Jay.
(9:00:55 AM) Jay: yeah dude, im gross
I really don’t know why the vagina has to be red and mucusy to be well fucked. I had a discussion with Jay about this in private, but he really didn’t see why I was so aghast. So yeah, that was gross.
Anyway, I decided that I’d bust out a couple of projects I am working on and suddenly, Love of a Lifetime comes on Spotify.
(10:10:05 AM) Charity: Firehouse: Love of a Lifetime. I dedicate to you. Discuss.
(10:10:29 AM) Jay: don’t you dare dedicate some fucking 80s ballad bullshit to me
(10:10:42 AM) Charity: My heart hurts at your disdain.
(10:10:58 AM) Charity: I totally dedicate it to you. I just did it.
(10:11:24 AM) Jay: DEDICATION REBUFF
Anyway. Cuntpunches aside, it’s raining today. Which is awesome. Unfortunately, it’s also fucking horrible allergy time here in Austin. Everyone I know is sick as fuck, including Lisa, Jay and Alea. Jay is so snotty, in fact that he’s going home to work instead of working at the office.
(10:31:21 AM) Jay: im going home
(10:31:25 AM) Charity: ok
(10:31:28 AM) Charity: you going to get a doctor appt
(10:31:33 AM) Charity: or just going to snot at home by yourself
(10:31:42 AM) Jay: i shall snot in solitude
Now, this may sound…somewhat sad to most people. But, I know what this means. This means that my husband, who I love more than life, is going home to sit at his computer to work. He will sit there, and sneeze…to the side. On the wall. Repeatedly.
The other day, when I was organizing the office, I had to actually TOUCH UP the walls, because he sneezed on them so much it made water marks on them. I’m not even kidding a little bit. I’m always like, Jay! Hold that shit in! But he’s all aghast that I’d even POSSIBLY ask him to not ‘release’ the sneeze. You can tell where his favorite sneeze spots are because there are water marks all over the walls in these areas. I swear to god I’m going to get him a fucking mask and make him wear it in the house.
Anyway, yesterday was apparently Bacon Awareness Day (Which, we can call BAD Day, and it would totally work. I find this awesome.)
Anyway, I was ridiculed and accosted for disliking bacon. It was horrible. My friend made me this avatar that I’m using as my profile pic on Facebook.
It captures the essence of me.
Anyway. I went to bed feeling that today was going to be a bigger, brighter, better day. I woke up to rain and a snarky and snotty husband. Awesome. Then I get to work, and my computer is broken. Rad. Then I log onto Facebook and find this:
I find this super extra awesome because I bought some Bacon chap-stick for Jay and Alea once. It made them both want to vomit.
Anyway. Happy Tuesday, everyone! May your day be full of laughs!
(lulz)
Apparently, I have posted something on Facebook that is unforgivable. I have somehow made my daughter go into full-on nerdrage.
I created this post, and within 7 minutes had more than 20 posts. I am not even exaggerating. The uprising on Facebook because of my original post was a full scale attack on my person. My daughter then, in her nerdrage decided to remind everyone of my other dislikes:
My daughter actually is contemplating creating a sign which would force peeps to slap me in the face because I don’t prefer bacon, biscuits, Tom Petty or Princess Bride.
It must have been love, but it’s over now, bitches.
Here’s a copy/paste of a conversation I had with Jana this morning. Holy crap I love my internet friends.
(9:57:08 AM) Charity: I totally missed your ass on friday.
(9:57:33 AM) Jana: Sorry, I had to hang out with the low rents and the priest
(9:57:46 AM) Charity: Excellent. Was jury duty fabulous?
(9:58:34 AM) Jana: Yes, and I have to go back on Tuesday now, mutha fuckers. I hope that I dont make it to the final selection
(9:59:35 AM) Charity: Tell those fuckers something crazy.
(9:59:40 AM) Charity: Then they won’t pick you.
(10:00:00 AM) Charity: Be all, like, “I really think cannibalism will help solve many issues within our country.”
(10:00:04 AM) Charity: Then laugh maniacally.
(10:00:36 AM) Jana: I already filled out my questionaire and I hope that my statement of I am already convinced of the defendants guilt will help get me out of it.
(10:00:56 AM) Jana: that and I would like to stab and burn him too!
(10:01:32 AM) Charity: Yeah, dude. Be all like, “This mofo needs to DIAF, yo.”
(10:02:40 AM) Charity: Or, you can walk in and be like, “GUILTY!!!!!!!!!!” at the top of your lungs.
(10:07:26 AM) Jana: or at random times…just shout out ” he is guilty ma bitches ”
(10:25:08 AM) Charity: LOL!
(10:25:12 AM) Charity: Exactly.
(10:25:25 AM) Charity: Or, you could just stand up and be like, “I WILL CUT YOU”
(10:26:06 AM) Jana: I totally think that if I yelled out DIAF in the court room, the big priest man might pop a little tent
(10:27:32 AM) Charity: Do you think they know what DIAF means?
(10:29:49 AM) Jana: some do and most of them don’t speak english. The priest man was totally whippin his leather coat around like those cool new video game commercials, it was really awesome to watch him, I totally wanted to set his whole routine to a soundtrack
(10:30:15 AM) Charity: Since when do priests wear leather trench coats?
(10:30:22 AM) Charity: Was he a vampire priest like Paul Bettany?
(10:30:28 AM) Jana: Yep
(10:30:35 AM) Jana: I just kept calling him priest man
(10:30:47 AM) Charity: This conversation has taken an astoundingly awesome turn.
(10:30:54 AM) Jana: no where NEAR as hot as Paul B.
(10:31:00 AM) Charity: Just think of all the different meanings DIAF could have had.
(10:31:41 AM) Jana: its monday, give me a minute to think of some…LOL
(10:31:59 AM) Jana: Dont Insert Ass Funk
(10:32:10 AM) Charity: L M F A O
(10:32:19 AM) Jana: Uummm…..work brain, work
(10:32:53 AM) Jana: Do I Appear Fat?
(10:33:01 AM) Charity: HAHAHA.
(10:33:17 AM) Charity: “Does this leather trench coat make my ass look as big as hades?”
(10:33:18 AM) Charity: DIAF!
(10:34:05 AM) Jana: When I whip my trench around it makes my ass appear funky…DIAF
(10:37:01 AM) Jana: all right…I have to finish my blog comparing ashely madison to dolly madison
(10:37:15 AM) Charity: I don’t even know what to say.
(10:37:24 AM) Jana: cupcakes and ho’s bitches
(10:37:31 AM) Jana: ohh…that is a good title
(10:37:40 AM) Charity: no no
(10:37:51 AM) Charity: it should be ‘Cupcakes and Ho-Ho’s, bitches’
(10:37:54 AM) Charity: double intendre?
(10:37:56 AM) Charity: lulz
(10:37:57 AM) Jana: Twinkes and Winkes
(10:38:05 AM) Jana: LMAFO
(10:38:31 AM) Jana: its a double stuffed intendre
(10:38:47 AM) Charity: Double stuffed like the priest’s ass in his leather trench. DIAF!
(10:39:04 AM) Jana: 
(10:39:15 AM) Jana: see my mouth is open….laughing
(10:40:23 AM) Charity: Yes, but why is there fear?
(10:40:42 AM) Jana: Its not fear just startled
(10:40:49 AM) Charity: WTF is startled laughter?
(10:41:01 AM) Charity: DOES IGLOOS ALTER FEAR?
(10:41:23 AM) Charity: DROP IT ALL FRANK!
(10:41:30 AM) Jana: ha ha
(10:41:37 AM) Charity: DO IT ALL FATTY!
(10:41:39 AM) Charity: erm.
I really don’t even know what the fuck we were talking about at the end, but it made me laugh.
This weekend, I finished Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins. First of all, let me just say that I did not go into this series with disappointment. I generally ADORE books from the young adult genre. I enjoy more challenging books on occassion, but generally I’m not reading to learn shit. I’m normally reading to be entertained– so there’s that.
As I’ve mentioned before, I found the story itself to be ok, but it certainly did not live up to the hype for me. I found the second book to be a bit better than the first, and had hopes the third would be even better.
Unfortunately, I was disappointed. I found where the second book seemed to finally begin to flesh out these characters– fatten them up a bit and become slightly multi-dimensional– all that was lost in the third book. I found the plot to be predictable and the ending almost a cop out. The ending was more than a cop-out. It was pretty much terribad. I had such high hopes for this series and really, really wanted to love it.
Although I was disappointed in the series, I do think I’d probably recommend it. Perhaps my standards are just too high, or something set me off enough to have a bad attitude towards the story. With that being said, it’s certainly better than the twilight books- which, shamefully, I loved more than this story, even though I know this story is better. Go figure. At least I can fucking admit it.
That being said, I will still enjoy watching the movie, even though that horrible, horrible kid, Josh Hutcherson is playing Peeta. I can’t fucking stand this kid. Ever since I saw him in Bridge of Shit: The Movie (also known as Bridge to Terabithia)- I just want to gouge out my eyeballs. Not only do I find him the least attractive child actor to ever grace the big screen– there is something that just is absolutely creepy about him. Something in the eyes. Ugh.
Charity’s Score: D
Sorry folks. I did not love.
This afternoon I was telling Jana how I was shopping on line, and asked what it could possibly mean if there wasn’t anything I wanted to buy. Enjoy the copy/paste of our IM.
(1:18:41 PM) Jana: It means good things…you only want to buy shit or find good shit to buy when you are poor
(1:19:21 PM) Jana: then you have to choose…food or shoes….shoes….there is a reason why my mom called me amelda marcos
(1:19:40 PM) Charity: fuck yeah
(1:20:14 PM) Charity: even when it’s like ‘feed the kids or buy shoes’…then you have to like, still really think about that shit. It’s like– surely those needy little fucks can get buy on a can of spaghettio’s for one more day.
(1:21:47 PM) Jana: exactly…like brown lettuce is bad..pppffftt…it still is a vegetable
(1:22:06 PM) Charity: I know, right? Brown lettuce is by far better than even a can of spaghettios.
(1:22:14 PM) Charity: Because, hey, those shoes aren’t going on sale every day.
(1:22:42 PM) Charity: And besides— obesity is a problem in America, right?
(1:22:51 PM) Charity: I mean, surely the kids could stand to lose a few?
(1:24:01 PM) Jana: I know…and what would it hurt for them to want a little……sweet baby jesus I want all the time….I want more money, I want those super tall shoes that make my 5′ nothing frame look like a new giraffe 5-10″ model
(1:24:21 PM) Jana: and so what they cost $80 they were on sale DAMNIT
(1:24:56 PM) Charity: 80.00. Fuck, that’s a STEAL. I mean, honestly- what kind of groceries can you buy with 80.00 anyway? I mean, there’s only so much Ramen we need to stock.
(1:27:58 PM) Jana: see…you understand
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