Today's Special!

TODAY'S SPECIAL ~ Crazy with a shot of More Crazy

Tuesday

Ready or not, here I come...

Just as I sat down to enjoy my 2.5 minute lunch break I stumbled across this:


I'll give you a minute...

Now, let me put a 10 foot pile of manure in perspective with a 10 foot Harriet Tubman,  a 10 foot bunny rabbit (Easter shout out), and a normal sized man next to a 10 foot fence.



How about telling me how anyone is allowed to build a shrine to horse crap for so long that it grows in excess of 10 feet?  Maybe the town folk never noticed but The Law cleared that up for us, ""It was the biggest pile of (manure) I have ever seen.  They've been putting it back there for years."  
YOU KNEW THE ENTIRE TIME THERE WAS A 10 FOOT PILE OF HORSE SHIT??? 
I'm surprised that these people are surprised that bodies were found in it.  You people are just asking for bodies to be dumped there...hell, I might stop by and dump the turtle for goodness sakes (yes, it's still alive).

When asked if the deceased were white or Hispanic Wyatt Earp had to say, "We're not sure which, but we know for sure they're not black"
Phew! We wouldn't want a Mississippi Burning sequel now would we? Good job on making sure the folks murdered and dumped in 10 feet of horse manure were definitely not black. I'm sure that makes everyone sleep a little more soundly in your Deliverance hell. How can one be so sure they aren't black anyway...considering they're dead, wrapped in plastic and covered in shit? On that note, I could care less if they are brown or yellow, black or white...

Don't worry though, a thorough search has been completed and although more bones were found they are believed to belong to horses so no more threat of illegal dumping of plastic.  I know that's a happy ending for anyone who could have very well starred in The Hills Have Eyes.

Friday

High moral code...

I gave up booze for Lent and a couple weekends ago I had a plate full of activities that I would usually be bombed during, 1) opening day for the Detroit Tigers and 2) weekend long casino trip, on a bus, with a lot of drunks.  It was going to be a test.  Upon entering the weekend Satan, Anti Christ dressed as a friend, some devout Catholics shared that Sundays are indeed free days and with that line of thinking I had saved up enough free days to be able to break my promise for a few days...so I did.  A LOT!  It did not come without vengeance from God however because the entire casino trip I pissed out of my ass.  I literally had to choose slots that were right outside of the bathroom because at anytime blazing 7's were erupting from my bum.  Moral of this story - Break a promise to the Lord and hell will shoot out your bung hole.

Speaking of things erupting from people's bums...I was at the Sweet Spot (no it's not a strip club, it's a candy store you freak!) with some friends from work and one gal dropped a pack of Twizzlers...Upon bending over to pick up the chewy ropes of goodness her pants split.  I am not talking a cute, tiny, easily hideable split...her entire ass was exposed to the world.  Lucky for her she has a great ass, unlucky for her she had to walk all the way down the street to Ann Taylor's Loft for a new pair of pants wearing what appeared to be assless chaps.  Moral of this story - A Twizzler in the hand is not worth a nekkid tush.

Recently my son had an appointment with a speech pathologist and directly after she asked me if my children have ever been taken away by PS (protective services) my son yells, "Punch. Me. Down!"  "Kick. Me. Hard!"  "Eat. Dog. Poop.".  Good news ~ the gal was impressed with his vocabulary...Bad News ~ I think PS has been parked outside my home since the visit.  Moral of this story - Spare the rod, the spoiled kid will tell people you beat them anyway.

Happy Easter everyone, from my son who I make eat dog poop (only when we're low on mac n' cheese, geesh)!

Wednesday

I'm a good time...

My gay uncle had a heart attack and this is the conversation that happened after my mom bitched me out for not calling him to see how he was doing...

Sum: I called Uncle Aunt...

Mom: What did he say?

Sum: Well, he was a little offended that you made me feel so guilty about not calling. He was like, “Life is too short. That kind of sucks that she would use me as a pawn to make you feel guilty after I just had a heart attack and almost died”

Mom: Really?

Sum: Yeah, but don’t worry about it, I told him you just were worried that he felt no one cared...

Mom: I feel bad that he took it that way...

Sum: Don’t Mom, because that conversation never happened…he didn’t answer when I called.

Monday

I have a headache...indefinitely.

We bowl with newlyweds...they were both married to complete assholes, divorced and have since found and married each other. They are in crazy love and having come from previous relationships where there was no romance whatsoever are making up for lost time. Their love and lust for each other has never bugged me before but then again I have never given up drinking for Lent before so probably by the time they start really loving each other I am piss drunk and motor boating a stranger (yeah, I've been known to do that). Anyway, this past Saturday the topic of sex came up and of course they have sex ALL THE TIME. My husband slinks in his chair and sulks as the topic is shared among the couples of sex, how much is normal/abnormal, who has to beg, who doesn't, blah, blah, blah...I keep silent because at this point it appears that everyone is screwing the hell out of each other and I am the wicked barren witch of the East who never gives my husband any play.

After that night I started feeling really guilty and thinking about when sex slowed down for us and why I'm in sex craze remission because at one time I was quite the fornicating freak show. That guilt didn't last long however because I started remembering things like this...

The year is 1994...I let my boyfriend (who is now my husband) talk me into playing a game, just the tip...from that point forward there wasn't a place we didn't have sex...garages, golf courses, school buses, stranger's bathrooms, offices, driveways...the list goes on and that kind of variety lasted through 2004 which was the year of our marriage. I'd say that was a pretty good fucking run and I should kind of be off the hook for the rest of my life.
The year is 2006...I gained 80 pounds over the course of 10 months and then had a human being rip out of my puss and asshole. Yes, my puss AND asshole...that does happen and they refer to it with a cute little term "4th degree tear". To give you an idea of what that might be like...for a short time in my life, as in 45 minutes after delivery, I had no taint. I'll give you a moment to fully absorb that.
Year 2008...Another 60 pounds and this time a human gets surgically removed from my gut. This little peanut wasn't planned and I thoroughly followed the pullout method that got me through my entire high school/college career. We spent a good portion of his first days in NICU because he had wet lung. Before they sent us home they hooked him to a breathing machine and taught us CPR on a plastic baby because he was having a hard time breathing on his own. So, in addition to making sure my two year old already at home didn’t smother him I also had to make sure that if the louder than a fire alarm machine went off at any time of the night I was ready to push, push, push, breathe while I also tried to call an ambulance (thankfully that was never necessary but my oldest may have tried to smother him...that came later though).

So, just with those few bullets I think it is apparent that I am exhausted and my pussy is deformed...I think, I can't really get a good look at it anymore because my gut could be categorized as a gunt (I'll let you look that one up) which I thoroughly believe is because when they released the second human from my bikini line and replaced my intestines they put them in the wrong spots. Not to mention for a good romp session nowadays I need to have shaved which is hit or miss and the boys need to be sleeping which is also hit or miss and I need my pocket rocket that died somewhere between 2006 and 2008 and I don’t feel like brushing my teeth on the weekends just to run up to the sex shop and get a new one. So, to any of you that are on the fuck friendly roller coaster of life...GOOD FOR YOU!  Keep that shit to yourself though because I paid my dues in the 90's and now you've required me to perform an out of the ordinary screw that I was planning on breaking out before I got my hair done!

Friday

Random Rules of Life...

#39 If you walk into a bathroom and the toilet flushes immediately but there is no shuffling feet sound that is your sign that someone is shitting and to please give them privacy.
#40 If you choose the stall right next to them and there are 3 other stalls for your use, you are an asshole.

#122 If you buy a microwaveable meal for one dollar...that is what it will taste like.
#123 It doesn't matter if it has chocolate pudding in it.

#517 Never tell someone you are good at something if you don't want to have to do that something every fucking time they need it done.
#518 Expect to have that someone point out how not good you are at it everytime you do it.

#932 Your crotch will never smell like a flower...no amount of special kuka wash or arm pit spray for vajayjays or plastic container filled with vinegar will make that happen.
#933 It will smell less like Chicken of the Sea if you shave your muff occasionally.

#1524 The very first time you try marijuana will be the day before your first random drug screen at work.
#1525 Every positive random drug screen for marijuana is a person that has just tried it for the very first time.

Are you talking to yourself?

Have any of you seen the show on I.D. channel, Who the [Bleep] Did I Marry? It's a show that explores stories of men and women who thought they were happily married until the day they uncover a shocking secret to uncover that nothing is as it seems. Go set up your DVR and come right back. This is one of those stories…

He was the ultimate man...the perfect specimen of muscle, charm, and endowment for female pleasure. The kind of man that warms up your towel in the dryer while you are showering, or tells you how beautiful you are when you have period bloat and haven't had your upper lip waxed in months.

However, you just can't understand why you have this soft voice telling you something is amiss...until one morning you wake up to piss and that once soft voice is loud and yells for you to break into his damn phone! "Oh now, that's just silly voice. I trust him. What could possibly be in his phone? He made me pancakes for dinner and did the dishes...that is true, honest, unconditional love..." WOMAN, I SAID CHECK THE DAMN PHONE! So you do...and your entire life and plans for the future and a relationship that was built over 2 years is crushed from one text message. A message that probably took seconds to write crumbles your existence. Now you know and now you must act...It's over and there is no coming back from it. The voice goes silent...

In the months ahead, you realize just how much this man was a stranger. You have no idea what you meant to him and what, if anything, you had. You feel foolish, emotionally beaten and even more outraged. You hate him but you hate yourself more for not listening to the voice. The voice that was always there. The voice that you buried. The voice that you never told your friends about. The voice that doesn't sugar coat and no matter how faint never goes away and never lies and doesn't shut up until you do what you are told.

The voice isn't special to the person in this story but of every female out there. (I see you...) We all have that voice. It is powerful and it should never be ignored. It can come as a warning to act, or a sign of great things to come or an internal shove to get over whatever obstacle is holding you back. What is your voice saying? It’s time that you listen…