Toot, Toot!

That's my horn and "toot, toot" is me tooting it, my own horn, get it, come on it was funny...whatever, fuck off.

So why the narcissistic celebration?  Well if you must know, over the past couple months I've been given a couple blog awards...yeah, people like me.  The cool thing about these awards is it opens you up to other funny people out there in blog world...the not so cool thing is it means you have to do a bunch of shit and I think we have established at this point that I'm both lazy and bitchy so I haven't handled my blog award business.  So I am going to that today...okay?  Here we go...

The first award is (drum roll)....

No, it's not The Lick Old Lesbians Award.  I made that mistake too and my upper lip still smells like Cream of Mushroom soup...was that too far Charlie?  Anyway, it apparently stands for Laugh Out Loud and all the youngsters use this to communicate when something is tremendously funny...so much so that they actually laugh out loud.  See?  See how that works...those annoying little fuckers are tricky aren't they?

First and foremost I have to tell you who I make Laugh Out Loud and it's none other than Downtown Jenny Brown.  She is funny so go there...NOW!

Next I have to state 7 unknown facts about myself...this is hard because there isn't too much of the unknown.  Let's see what I can pull out of my ass...

1. I've never actually licked an old lesbian, I am not saying I wouldn't
2. I do have a terrible habit of biting cheeks, face cheeks
3. I have never bitten a butt cheek, I am not saying I wouldn't
4. I cry when I'm pissed which thoroughly fucks up portraying how pissed I am
5. I laugh when someone is pissed at me which thoroughly fucks up showing how sorry I am
6. I'm not usually sorry
7. I do apologize more than I should

Well, that didn't go too bad if I do say so myself.  Next I have to pass on the award to a certain number of people but I can't remember so I am going to tell you about one blog I have recently stumbled upon and she might very well live in my parallel universe...

Princess Muffintop - This chick has a body of a muffin and not just any muffin but a Blueberry Muffin...I fucking love Blueberry Muffins!!!  There is another thing you didn't know about me.  So, I guess you could say I would LOL, lick this old lesbian, only she isn't old and she isn't a lesbian.  Oh well, she will make you laugh out loud so check her out, yo!

In perfect transition, Princess Muffintop also presented me with an award! (drum roll...yes, I will drum roll every fucking time)

It's the Cherry on Top Award just in case you aren't paying attention...my cherry was busted in the early 90's so to win it back means a lot to me.  I've missed you Cherry...I also miss Tight Vagina but not nearly as much as T- daddy I'm sure, do they have that award?  Sorry, I'm being ungrateful...

With this award I have to tell you three things I love about myself...this is hard too because I am usually so modest.  I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings but...

1. I love my face!  If you look past the lines, crows feet, sun spots, dry skin patches, 30 year old acne and a slight guido moustache I really am beautiful.
2. I love my abs, I love my abdominals! (Do you know that commercial?)  If you look past the stretch marks and 70 pounds of leftover pregnancy belly flab that looks like crinkled up papers they are really tight.  I should get a belly button ring actually.
3. I love this blog and I love the blogs I follow and I love you for reading!

I am supposed to give this award away but I need a Mountain Dew or something...check out my profile and click on any of the blogs I follow, you will not be disappointed!  Do you want to know what is disappointing?  That no sweet, problem solving alcohol will be hitting these lips this weekend...why oh why did I give up booze for Lent?  So. Fucking. Stupid.

Things I'm going to start doing at the office...1st edition

• When someone asks what I am having for lunch I am going to say, "Dinner regurgitated from last night."
• When they don't believe me and walk over to my cubicle to see what I'm really having I will have a plastic baggy of chewed up bread/chips/chicken sitting on my desk and offer them a sample.  (I learned that baggy trick from Intervention, thank you A&E)
• The next time I am in the restroom and another individual enters the stall next to me I'm going to ask who it is and whether they have answered me or not I'm going to say, "mmm hmm, I've heard of you"
• I'm going to have conversations with coworkers while my eyes are completely closed.
• If someone asks for my assistance I am going to state that I really don't have time but know someone that does, I will then reach into my desk drawer and pull out a sock puppet who will proceed from there.  
• I am going to talk to myself so loud that the folks around me think I am talking to them...oh wait, I already do this...moving on.
• Every task I complete I am going to yell out, "Woot Woot...in your face task, how does it feel to be done task, shove it up your ass to-do list!"
• Take naps
• Start a show and tell that I will hold at my cubicle...just for me.  "For show and tell today Summer I brought a water bottle that holds 24 total oz's of aqua."  "Wow Summer that is fascinating and very hydrating."

Did I mention I gave up booze for Lent?  Do you know that prescription pills are not booze?  Exactly...

Who invented running?

I have spent a lot of the new year looking at myself nekkid.  Just standing in the mirror...facing front, turning to the side, using a mirror to view the rear, back to the front.  I am doing this in hopes that the ever present spare tire I am smuggling under bloused dolman tops causes a fire to light under my pancaked ass to get me moving and change my body's current state.

Spring Break 2010 ~ I'm the hot one...

 










Although this ritual does cause the necessary depression, towel smothered sobs (I don't want to wake the family) and diminishing self confidence it is definitely not working. The P90x Cd's I had my brother burn for me haven't made it within inches of the DVD player. 

So, I decided to take another route...I contacted a running friend and joined her for a Saturday jog.  I was extremely nervous considering the last time I ran was close to a decade ago but figured everyone can run, right?  Wrong!  Running is quite possibly the most ridiculous thing I have ever tried to do past the age of 17.  Let me replay for you the disaster that was my running experience...

I text her to make sure we are still "on" for our running date...secretly hoping she has been diagnosed with syphilis which has since made her blind...does syphilis make you blind or is that herpes??  Whatever, any blindness causing disease.  No luck, she still has her sight as well as all other senses (I can't remember how many there are because on top of being fat I am also stupid, the cards are stacked against me).  I ask what I should bring and she responds to only be concerned with how many sports bras I need to wear.  Good point...

I show up, kiss her babies and we hold hands exiting from her driveway because it is covered in ice...that should have been the first red flag.  We begin a slow and steady pace and about two seconds into our trip my ankle goes out...I giggle as I limp a few steps here and there and inform her something might be wrong with my ankle.  Willing with all my might that my ankle is broken and then I have a valid excuse for not having to run anymore because at about one second into the run I was over this dumb shit.  Ankle miraculously heals and we are back at the solid pace.

Fast forward some miles...some meaning one...

Me - "ugh, can we turn around now?"
Marathon Fucking Runner - "we don't turn around...we run an entire block which is a total of 4 miles"
Me (in my head) - "Please God, I don't ask for much but if you could strike me with lightning right now I will go to church every Sunday for the rest of my life and even work in the preschool class..."

Skip more miles...some meaning 0.5...

MFR (coincidence that Marathon Fucking Runner acronyms are MFR, I don't think so) - "Was that a dog?"
Me - "What, where?"
MFR - "I thought I heard a dog charging us..."
Me (I'm taking the liberty that you now know italicized font means this convo is happening in my head) - "Please God, I don't ask for much but if you could please have a rabid dog emerge and literally eat my ankles off I will army crawl around my neighborhood spreading the Gospel for the rest of my life..."

More miles...2 minutes from feared dog attack...

Me - "I have to pee"
MFR - "Do you want to stop?"
Me - "No, I should be alright..."
MFR - "Do you know sometimes runners piss or shit themselves because they exert their bodies so much during a race?"
Me - "AWESOME!"

I then proceeded to piss and shit myself. 

Okay, some of this is a tad exaggerated.  I did a lot of walking, even more bitching and a tremendous amount of begging to please walk again.  The only good thing that came out of that running debacle was the sunshine skillet I inhaled afterwards as a reward.

Going back to being a complete dumb ass, I'm running again this Saturday with the same MFR that almost killed me last weekend.  No, not because I felt so great afterward.  What a crock of shit that is...you don't feel great after running, you feel tired and then for the next three days you feel like you've been vaginally assaulted by dudes the size of Fat Albert and then made to do the stair master...I am running because I want another sunshine skillet. 

Bikini Bod...HERE I COME!

That's a shame...

I am approaching the deadline to get my alien implant removed that prevents unwanted tax deductions and I'm really struggling with my next move here.  I have two kids of the male variety.  I am pretty sure I'm done unleashing Satan's spawn out into the world but the dream of a daughter causes pause... 

I think I would like a girl.  A sweet, pretty, organized, quiet, no bone breaking or hitting or kicking or biting or wrestling, pig tail wearing, innocent little girl to cuddle, and play dress up or put puzzles together without mass destruction of said puzzle upon completion.  I want to decorate a little shabby chic nursery and shop for frilly tutu's that she would wear with outrageous colored leggings.  I want to have her grow up and we talk about everything and be very best friends forever and ever and ever!!!

There is one problem with this fantasy...I will be her mother!

She will probably arrive in this world looking a little like Joe Dirt screaming obscenities and already wearing cut off flannels.  She will pull my hair and spit at me while we grocery shop and even the mention of cuddling will send her into a fit of rage that even my boys will cower away from.  Her nursery will be a stone gray and the only song that will calm her epic cries will be Cop Killer by Ice T.  She will request a black trench coat from Santa that she playfully refers to as Satan and play Mortal Combat religiously by the age of 3.  She will grow up blaming me for whatever comatose state she has herself in at that time and I will continuously ask myself, "What did I do so wrong?"

Better go buy a bag of frozen peas because T-daddy is getting his Scrotum chopped up PRONTO!  Phew, thanks for helping me with that one...

I should have known better...

I've spent the greater part of today looking for a really good picture of Thing 1 and/or Thing 2 from the Cat in The Hat movie because I am quite certain their look for that flick was based off this guy...

These type of posts are what happens when someone gives up facebook and booze for Lent...

Usually an absence like this involves a shit story...

I don't have a good excuse...My dog ate my blogger password?  I've gone blind (no, not from masturbation...who has time for that)?  My place of employment decided the QWERTY style keyboards were for cave men and switched the location of every key and now when I want to type "awesome" it results in "fartpop"? 

None of these are true (for you slow readers..) I just haven't felt the writing fire.  Sure some interesting things have happened that I should have purged on to this page, errr, screen like...

• I was told in front of my husband that I have great boobs and then being asked if I was married at which point I nod to my husband who is standing right next to me.  To be honest, the girls aren't all that great, just big...additionally my husband really could have cared less, mostly because he sees how not great they are.
• We were invited as a couple by same dude who really likes my boobs to join him, his wife and a another random group of folks to a place they call "fun town"
• This brought back memories of my honeymoon where my husband and I were propositioned by a couple who were really deep in the swinger community, we declined (sorry to let any freaks down but it was our honeymoon for goodness sakes) and the guy gave us his business card in case we changed our mind...they conveniently live a few hours away from our hometown even though we met them in Mexico...this story is much better actually but maybe for another time.
• I came in dead last at our latest weight loss challenge at work, DEAD fucking LAST!  I even ended with a negative percentage which means I closed out the competition at a higher weight then what I started...I've never been very competitive plus I really love bagels.
• My new year has not gone without shit, literally, my oldest son shat all over my cream carpet...it was a very interesting mix of diarrhea and mushy rabbit pellets and quite possibly the most shit I have ever seen released from a human being.  The kind that as you tried to wipe it up it just spread more and more around the cream carpet, did I mention the carpet color is cream? 
• As I'm dumping bleach basically on said shit stain my son stands there in amazement asking various questions, "Am I sick?  How does all that poop come out of my butt?  What is that sound your throat is making Mom?"  Umm, yes you are sick...I asked that same question myself...the sound is me gagging and trying not to add puke to the monstrous pile of crap.
• This same son also broke a bone...we are currently living that hell as he needs to wear a cast from hand to bicep for the next six weeks.  I have started drinking...more.
• My place of employ has cut us off from facebook and all other social networking sites which is the best thing to happen to my career...I have decided since to give up facebook for Lent because I think it's what Jesus would do.
• Look everyone I'm blogging, shove that up your ass network administrator!!!  I am quite certain after that I will be blocked from this site on Monday.

That's a small snippet of life since the last time I let you peek into my crazy, fabulous, psychotic, awesome rack world.  I hope that there are people out there that still like me...and enjoy reading.

Until next time I'll leave you with one of my fat girl thoughts, "You have stopped yourself from eating all of the 3rd piece of pizza you've taken at the work party because you truly can't fit another pepperoni into your gut when you realize there is still creamy romano dressing pooling at the bottom of your salad bowl so you take a sliver of french bread to soak it up and eat it"

That is reason number 572 that I came in dead last to the weight loss challenge.  I should be more depressed about it but I really could give a flying fuck...or a standing very still and calm fuck for that matter.

X, O & Donut Holes...
SumSum