Love and Shooshting in an Elevator

Wow. I’m clearly all pent up. Some terrible elevator love scene totally just got me all percolated on the couch. And dude, it was on the most inappropriate tv show to get worked up about possible. I don’t even want to tell you because it’s too mortifying.

...

It was CSI!

I am shamed.

But hear me out!! It was some scorchingly hot, rich ass silver fox in an elevator with a younger chica, and he looks at her for a minute, then grabs her and totally kisses her, which she’s like wtf at first, then gets into it because he’s smokin’. Then the elevator door opens and he gets shot.

It’s so unfair! Why doesn’t random shit like that ever happen to me? Not the shooting part. Just the hot accidental sexual encounter part. I guess it’s because that’s probably a good way to get The HIV and/or mutilated by a stranger, but it sure looks like fun when you’re on day four of the flu and watching bad tv!

Oh, shitcicles, I’m turning into the little old lady who gets all juiced up on Harlequin Romance novels already!

RezNOr

I had a date with Mr. Reznor. Who wants to touch me? No, but really Lizzard, Nelle, and I went to see NIN in Columbia (Mizzou, whewt!) and we had killer seats right by the stage and danced like whore bags. He totally looked right at me and I was all, “Psssshhht! WhatevAR! You WISH you could have this!” And I’m sure he does, because shit, bitch! He legitimately can’t have this!

What’s funny is that ten years ago, I would have likely punched myself in the uterus in an effort to abort any hypothetical fetuses that might have been growing there to clear the way to bear Reznor’s child. And had you told me that I’d ever think otherwise, I would have laughed in your face and been a huge asshole about it. Lol, cuz I’ve always been such a nice person and all.

So, I guess Trent is still technically on My Freebie List, but seriously, do you know how many skanks he’s put the naughty on over the years? I think Ronald put it best when he said, “I bet his girlfriend has to fuck him up the ass with a strap-on to get him off because there’s so much shit growing on his dick, he can’t get it up anymore.” Indeed.

And dude, let’s not forget that he’s short. And has inferior genes due to his depressos/addiction/small nostrils. And he’s in PETA. OMG, and AA! I can’t roll with a guy who can’t hold his booze! It’s so not hawt.

It’s amazing how clear this shit becomes when you get older, wiser, and find a brilliant, hilarious, and fanfuckingtastic man, ain't it?

Meso Old!

Why is it that every time someone gets engaged I kind of want to barf in their mouth a little? Most of it is the expectant look people give you after their announcement, like they’re waiting for you to justify your own engagement status. Part of it, even after all this time, is just the weirdness of someone getting MARRIED. Especially when it’s someone you used to get so drunk with that you once physically restrained them from beating some bitch over the head with a phone. Ahh, memories!

Embarrassingly not that long ago, I would run away from married people like they had Ebola because I totally thought they underwent a marriage metamorphosis where they suddenly sucked balls and blew you off for hubby all the time. It took my best friend from college getting hitched for me to realize that you’re still YOU when you get married. But that’s a revelation of an extremely stupid and slutty single person, if that tell you anything.

These days, I’m just excited that some of my married bitches are having adorable babies for me to play with, then promptly hand back when they give me a Hot Carl. Whoot!

Caffeine Conspiracy

Dood I swear the waiter dumped a 5 Hour Energy drink or three in my pop at lunch because I’m about to blast off here from the caffeine. I’m like full on chair dancing at my desk to Pitbull. Maybe vibrating in my chair is a more accurate description of what nastiness is going on up in here.

Shit, bitch, I don’t even know where I was going with this except that I’ve clearly had an accidental overdose and need to flee across the street to the titty bar and make some cash doing this then get some fricking ice cream. You know, because the pervy ice cream truck driver pulls up every day, twice a day, to the aptly named Bazooka’s back door *insert juvenile snicker here* and the strippers run out to buy popsicles. And I do mean run. They don’t just walk out like normal humans and get a fucking ice cream; they hop-run in slow motion in their little outfits and ankle-breaking heels and teeter around handing money to the dude. I know this because watch it take place from my fatty window cube which overlooks the back of their building.

Downtown pwns!

OWW WEE Baby, You Make Me Wanna Walk Like a...

Despite my revulsion for the toe variety, I actually love camels. A lot. They are the cutest, smiliest, eyelashiest things you can ride around on through the desert. This is something I really want to do, actually. I am foaming at the mouth to go on a camel safari in Egypt, and yes I am just as excited about trotting around on a belching, spitting, adorable fluffy critter as I am to see Giza. I mean, come on:



The only reason I haven’t done this yet is because the safety section of the U.S. Department of State page is bigger than Lindsay Lohan’s freakish labes. In fact, I don’t know which would be more dangerous: moseying into a terrorist mud pit or banging LiLo. Yeesh. It doesn’t exactly say not to go, but it does kinda say to be effing careful as hell.

Whatever, I guess what I want to know is, do you think it’s cool to go to Cairo, or should I wait out the drama? I mean, Dan is six and a half feet tall and I’m fricking blonde city, so we won’t exactly blend in. I’m worried either way that I’m gonna miss out, which is NOT an option. Do you think shit will get better or worse if I wait? Or should I just say fuck it and not subscribe to terrorism and go anyway?

God DAMN it, I hate terrorists.

SNTYAL

Word, bitches. So I did it. I finally got LASIK. And you know what? It sucked major cornhole. It was scary, hideous, and totally shatastic. The only reason I’m so crabby about it is that I asked a solid 20 people about their LASIK surgery, and they all said the same damn thing:

“Omg, it was SO awesome! It was over in like 4 seconds and I could see everything clearly when I sat up! I could even read my alarm clock for the first time in years. Also, my sex life is better than yours, and my hairstyle makes yours look like rat shit on a plate!”
Right, so thus I’m here to tell you what it’s really like in a brief piece called…
Shit that Nobody Tells You About LASIK:

1. It hurts like a mofo.
Yeah, yeah, they give you a Valium, and yeah they drop shit in your eyes to numb them, but first, they use some instrument to pressurize your fucking eye. YES. And it HURTS. And your vision fades to black. Then, panic ensues. It was at this point in which I completely wigged out and tried to run away. They held me down though, so at least I got it finished.

2. Everyone can watch your procedure.
Uh huh. Like when you shriek and thrash and attempt to flee, your mom is standing out there trying to take video of it and laughing.

3. You totally can’t see for like, evAR.
I’m not bitching tooooo much because I went from 20/800 to 20/40, but as far as being miraculously able to see everything right away? Not so much. I’m still farsighted at the moment, which makes working at a computer all day oodles of fun. It’s better every day and supposedly will continue to imporve, but still wicked on the headache factor.

I hope you enjoyed this edition of Shit that Nobody Tells You About LASIK. Stay tuned as I heal up and find out more exciting heinousness.

Eye Socket to Me!

Well, I had the LASIK consultation. I busted in, took out my contacts, and stumbled around trying not to run screaming out of there while they probed me and scared the living tits out of me (a difficult feat, being as I have none) by telling me all the gory details about the surgery. Then they showed me a video. Cuz you know, nothing makes you want to sign up to have your eyes sliced open than a graphic documentary of someone else’s gooey, sick, gelatinous cornea being zapped.

I sat there in a tightly coiled ball, ready to spring from the chair, straight out the window until I met The Coolest Nurse EvAR who totally talked me off the ledge. She told me about how I would feel during the procedure, which is what I needed to know, because the hideous part for me is not the minimal chance of a complication, but having my eyelids propped open with like, toothpicks and staying conscious while bitches are cutting on my eyes.

Anyway, she helped me picture what how it was gonna go down, and kindly informed me that I would be given a Valium. From what I hear, after I pop that bad boy, I won’t give a flying shit through a rolling doughnut about what they do to my eyeballs. Whee!

Hooray for Elective Surgery!

My eyeballs are ruining my life. I'm so tired of dicking around with correcting my shitty vision. I've worn glasses since I was in 2nd grade and contacts since I was in 6th. I think I deserve a fricking break here.

The catalyst was taking my glasses to the eye docta to have them bent back into shape after a drunken smashing accident, and of course, the minute I got home and put them on, they snapped right in fucking half. (Um, and what's up with things exploding upon my person as soon as I try to wear them? I'm secretly concerned that it could be my hawtness that causes items that would normally cover my beauteous features to burst…)

I don't know. Maybe this is my sign to throw my nuts onto the table and go get LASIK. I'm just scared because while contacts suck more balls than Sienna Miller, they sure beat being completely blind or having gross halos everywhere. And plus, there is still the whole apocalypse thing. When that shit goes down, I'm hosed and essentially blind. Even in the short-term, if someone broke into my house to mutilate me, I couldn't see to kill them in the face/run away. And I guess if I did go completely blind, it wouldn't be all bad 'cuz I could just drape myself in velvet and not give a shit.

What do you think?

When the Annihilatrix Booshes the World

I have recently found myself thinking about the apocalypse…with eager glee. Like, wouldn't it be great for humanity to be thinned out a little? Just the idiots who rape babies, act like ignorant dickholes in movie theaters, and otherwise fail to function in civilized society. I blame Max Brooks for my current obsession with this subject, but I also terrorist fist bump him for bringing it up because it's always good to be prepared, right?

Prior to the day of reckoning (provided that the planet is still inhabitable etc. etc.), I've decided that I need to get the following shit together:

1.) Learn how to use a gun without accidentally killing Dan in the face

2.) Learn to make my own beer

3.) Get a cat carrier like the ones you strap to your chest and put babies in (cuz NO, I'm not leaving Burtie behind)

4.) Get Lasik, or else like I'm really toast

5.) Learn to make/collect clean water

6.) Memorize the local terrain so I can get to safety (i.e. Ronald and DaNelle's cuz you know those bitches will pwn Judgment Day, then produce beautiful spawn which will lead collective humanity back to some semblance of order someday)

7.) Get a serious survival kit

8.) Cultivate a useful trade for post-apocalyptic society, cuz while I am indeed a brilliant tech writer, I don't foresee the need for software manuals so much as like food and shelter

What kinds of end-of-the-world-trade are you hos going to pursue?

Letters of Angst: Part Murder Was the Cayse That They Gayve Me

Dear Lurkey Co-workers,
Why? Why you gotta camp RIGHT outside the World’s Best Shittin’ Bathroom to eat your lunch? Then stare at me like I had just crapped out your whole family when I give up trying to wait you out like 20 min later? Dude, it’s hard enough for me to poo in public without you chatting right outside the goddamn door at Organ of Corti-shattering volumes, but then you make me do the walk of shit shame and you don’t even bother to act like you’re not horrified. Don’t you know it’s common courtesy to pretend like you don’t KNOW what was going on in there? God.
Disgruntles viscera,
Summie


Dear You Tube D-Bags,
You grossly underestimate how much I DO NOT want to hear you sing along with any given song. Like, what do you think is gonna happen from this? That Beck will be Googling himself and see your stupid gay video that you made of yourself sitting at your computer and shrieking “Debra” and think, dang. That girl is amazing. I should bone her? Or maybe you think someone will see it and think you’re amazing and want to bone you as you sign a record deal? Gross! Gross, gross, gross! Like, be productive and go do Karaoke! Or kill yourself! Just stop that stupid shit.
Disdainfully,
Summie

Dear Beast Master,
You pussy. Seriously. One time, the other cat Piper accidentally got shut in a closet for four days and did she piss herself? No. I got home from the trip, heard her yowl, let her out and she furiously bee-lined it for the litter box. But you. YOU. You wander your skinny ass into the closet and get locked in for four HOURS and piss on EVERYTHING in site. Like, dude, I had no idea you could hold that kind of volume in your tiny mass. So I kind of hate you right now and am so tired of drowning in a sea of cat urine that I’m about to skin all of you bitches and wear you as adorable hats/earmuffs.
Febreeze,
Mommy

Bathing Suits are Stupid, Lame

I'm pissed. PISSED! I bought a brand new bikini for this summer, and it was all cute and red and like straight out of my mom's bathing suit selection circa 1986. A-fricking-dorable. I wear the thing twice, and the piece of shit breaks. Like I'm sitting there shoveling a perfectly grilled hot dog into my face and I hear a POP as the bra clasp snapped. Fortunately, I had a tank top on, so at least there was no Girls Gone Wild.

So I'm like fuck, but oh well because I have a backup bathing suit. I go put that fucker on, spend 3 whole seconds in it, and one of the plastic rings on the bottoms exploded. It was like Hiroshima in my pants. Thank god there were no innocent bystanders to A.) get blinded by my pale ass and/or B.) get killed in the face by bikini shrapnel.

And what really pisses me off is that like I'm not even gloriously fat and destroying bathing suits with my delicious big ass. They're just shittily made fake underwear that cost $40. Ug, so now I'm left having to buy yet ANOTHER bikini, which is about as much fun as killing then boiling your own pets.

God damn it.

A Walk Down Memory Pain

How I missed this episode, I'll never know because this was my first two years of high school:



Not only did I totally sit in candle lit rooms, listening to Nine Inch Nails, and wearing torn fishnets, but I had that same god damn notebook full of angsty poetry. And the Denny's thing?! Oh my GOD. We LIVED in that hellhole! Drinking coffee and smoking cloves and ruining poor waitresses lives. Ahh, those were such good times!

And now, I go into Hot Topic because I wish I wasn't so old and decrepit that I could still wear pleather and skulls, and all these little clerk dicks look at me like what the hell are YOU doing in here? And I want to say, listen here, whipper snapper! I was Goth before there ever was even a thought of a national corporate conglomerate in every mall selling this awesome crap, so quit eying me in my Ann Taylor or I'll smear your adorable eyeliner! Bitches!

So, who wants to relive those moments with me and have a Goth party?! 'Cuz believe me when I tell you that I still own all of that shit... :)

Happy Fun Time Party

I made you a pretty!

Nightmare on Blonde Street:

Now it's your turn. I hear if you play along, Megan Fox will appear and give you a happy ending...

What the Shit?!

For some reason, this makes me feel hella carsick:



Maybe it’s something to do with me being unable to reconcile my own happy childhood memories of carrying around my favorite stuffed bunny until she was hideously deformed and missing an eye, with someone else’s desire to just like, bend their bunny’s legs over its head and fuck it. In every orifice. And put tits on it.

Like, how many times do you have to get finger-banged by your relatives as a child to make you want to jerk off in the soulless, tainted, fluffy guts of a hyper-sexualized rabbit as an adult? I mean, I guess at least these people are banging fake animals instead of real animals, but FUCK. How frickin' terrible is it when that's the best thing I can come up with to say about a person?

Grodie!!

Why T?

I come from a long distinguished line of White Trash, so don’t think I’m knockin’ it all that hard, but like there comes a point that you need to look at yourself and say – hmm. Have I taken this just a little too far?

Case in point: camping last weekend. Now nothing should make us WT feel more comfortable than being in our native environment of the Ozarks, but that does absofuckinglutely not excuse us from waking up after a long night of binge drinking at 6:30AM and playing that goddamn ooooooooooh waaa aaaah aaah aaah song at full volume on repeat until the entire camp is awake and furiously hung over. Nor does it excuse you from deliberately and drunkenly splashing me while I’m sitting and likely peeing in a lawn chair that I’ve sat in the river, and drinking my fucking Natty Light. I do NOT want to get pisswater in my beer, so back the shit off, Junior. And yes, I have a blood relative named Junior. Not like, William Jr. Just Junior. So I feel that I am more forgiving than most on this subject and still would twist this guy’s head off like a buck-toothed Ken doll.

Just because we’re White Trash doesn’t mean we need to be intrusive dicks about it. This is about all of us White-T uniting in peace and harmony, and boobs, and mullets, and lake beer. I have a dream…

Interactive Fun Time and YES this is FUN, Damn it.

This is so much frickin' friggity fun that if you don't feel compelled to participate, you are a pulseless playa hata! Srsly, like, it's so money that I couldn't even come up with it myself.

Just add a caption and post below, then a magical fairy will appear and grant you naps. Hoorays! Now, prepare to be amazed by...

Family Circus: Linda Blair Edition

Best Weekend EVAR!!!

My weekend was a sea of bad hair, lukewarm beer, and badass shows.


I present to you:

Summie’s KickMore Ass than a Ninja Cage Fighter on Roids Weekend: The Vicarious Edition


Friday, Lizzard and I were The Only Adults Sans Children to attend Walking with Dinosaurs. And of course, we were half lit and cussing like whoa, so I’m sure we taught some chitlins a few new words. Hee hee.



Then we finished our night basking in the lounge glory that is Al Lotta and his unbelievable toupee.



Saturday, Nellorz and I got our faces rawked off by Scott “Oh My God, so Fricking HOT” Weiland at Rockfest. Even though, you know, he’s gonna die like any minute what with the heroin addiction and all. BUT, Stone Temple Pilots was absolutely amazing and we danced and screamed and jumped around, and I even peed myself a little (just a LITTLE) when they played Down. MONEY!



I couldn’t secure any video of the mullets and grotesque sunburns we saw everywhere, but I can assure you that you never ever want to see the tan lines of a white trash dude’s wife beater after he’s taken it off too late and thus overemphasized his man nips with their stank white contrast. So, uh. You’re welcome.

People are Stupid

I’ve been meaning to blog about this for like evAR, but I’m entirely too busy and important to keep up with my offensive commentary on current events (read: playing World of Warcraft.) Anywho, let’s talk about this guy.

First of all, what do you MEAN nobody suspected that this asshat was a psychotic, incestuous, freak of a rapist? Every motherfucker that does creepy shit like that looks exactly like this guy:



Crazy pube hair? Check. Dead-terrifying-shark-eyes? Check. Child molester facial hair? Check! How the ass did you not see this coming?! Just looking at his picture makes me feel carsick because I can tell he’s a perv! Can you imagine living next to him, or worse…MARRYING him?!

Which leads me to my second incredulity; do you really expect me to believe that you had no idea that this sick asshole had a dungeon? What, he tells you not to go to the basement and so you just like, don’t? Dude, if my hubby told me to stay out of the basement, the first thing I’d do is to go straight downstairs and see what the hell he’s hiding. But then again, I would never marry a dude who has the whole Manson/bin Laden/Ramirez look in their eye because nothing good can come from that. Ever.

And I don’t want to be a huge dick here, but like if I were trapped in a dungeon for 24 years, and my dad was raping me, leaving me with his demon spawn, and threatening me with death if I try to escape…I’d rather go down in a blaze of glory. And yes, you’re right that she has had an entirely different experience than me and is probably fucked up beyond imagination, but I like to think that people have enough nature to overcome nurture and do what’s right. And sometimes that might mean killing the bastard that locks you in a dungeon and rapes you a lot.



And to cleanse the palate of such unpleasantness I bring you a fitting Craption:

Letters of Angst: Part Flour

Dear Heinous Virtual Coworker,
I totally hate your ass face. Thanks a lot for doing a shitty job of communicating what it is that you need done, then publicly blaming me for fucking it up to everyone and their fricking mother's dog's gay boyfriend. Just seriously learn how to do your job, m'kay? Fill out the request like a big boy, print it off, roll it up, and then you can shove it up your ass.
Sincerely,
Summie
P.S. You suck ballz

Dear Aging,
Fuck you, dude. You are terrible! I used to be able to go out for happy hour and enjoy a cold beer or three without getting so shit-faced that I eat an entire frozen pizza then promptly barf it up. I also used to be able to walk up two flights of stairs without gasping for breath like the god damn fish from the Epic video. And wtf is this with the crows feet shit? God, I hate you.
Kisses,
Summie

Dear Knockout Boy,
You were truly every woman's dream at roller derby on Saturday. Shirtless, beautiful, supporting your kick ass team, and carrying a BABY. And not just any baby, but an adorable one who was dressed as a roller girl and had her own derby name: P-Nut. My uterus is screaming right now.
Love it,
Summie

Who Effing Knew?

So like, I'm always jealous of peeps that share birthdays with awesome famous people. Namely, Lizzard. Not only is her birthday on 4/20, but she shares it with Hitler and gets to have cute shit like this from MySpace Awards Center:

Well, I just randomly came across a list of famous skanks that were born on March 31st, and I'm sorry to tell you, but it pwns. Guess who was a 3/31 baby...

Christopher Motherfucking Walken, bitches.

HAHA!! I'm so triumphant right now! I finally have a cool one! For like, 27 years, I thought the only pseudo-celeb b-day I had was Rhea Pearlman and like who the crap cares? But now. Now. I am SO stoked to share a birfday with Walken, and other badass shawtys like Ewan McGregor, Al Gore, Cesar Shavez, and Rene Descartes.

Care to share your birthday notables?

Too Many Superlatives for Me to Properly Title This!!!

This is truly the most amazing thing I've ever seen in my LIFE! I want to DO this! Too bad I didn't stay in contortionist school...

Hooray for Corporate America!!

God, this makes me happy!


more song chart memes


more song chart memes


more song chart memes


more song chart memes


more song chart memes


more song chart memes

I am...IRON MAN!!!

I feel it is my duty as a contributing member of this society to tell you that you MUST see Iron Man in the theater. You owe it to yourself as well as the rest of humanity to go forth and enjoy the living shit out of this movie. It is so wheeeeeeee that I actually caught myself shrieking with glee at the movies. And like, nobody around me even cared because we were all so engrossed in the raging kick assery of Robert Downy Jr. and omg, yes…even Gwyneth. I have been kinda meh on her for a while, but she was actually funny! I didn't know this was possible!

I feel like there is something supernatural about this film because all the elements came together so well. I mean, even The Dude is in it! As we were walking out, I turned to Daniel and said, I don't want to sound crazy or anything, but I think this might be the new Mummy. And that, my babies, is a bold statement, because The Mummy is the most fun hokum-adventure movie of all time ever, and we watch it with an unhealthy frequency.

Now keep in mind that it's a Marvel movie, so I'm sure it's not as thought provoking or vagina strangling as the one about the exploration of complex global intersections between Islamic extremists and cat raping. I just know I go to the movies to have fun, not to cry so hard that I have to leave the theater for phear of hyperventilation.

Oh, and plus...Tony Stark is The Uber Hawtness:

Photoshop Phun Time

What with my recent rage about all these repulsive, bad-receding-hairline-cover-up hair styles and all, that we should bring it back old school and bust out the mullet:



If you wanna play, just superimpose bitches into the picture of these unfortunate souls, or the mulleted ones into other hilarious situations and post it in the comments. If not, you are inferior and my spawn will consume your spawn one day. Bwa ha ha ha!

The Mellets. Large hair never looked so good!


The Hillet. I really feel that this look would help her in the polls.


Ah, I amuse me.

For Lizzard

Lizzardo,

You have my deepest sympathies on this tragic and sucky day:



I'm sorry that you won't get to motorboat ScarJo's face-punching cleavage now that she's marrying Some Guy I've Never Heard of. You were clearly the better choice what with your superlative butt and superiorly brilliant accomplishments. It's really her loss, dear, and nobody will never forgive her. Unless she shows nipple. Then we'll think about it.

Encouraging (but slightly gropey) pats and condolences,

Summie

No. Oh Dear GOD, Nooooooo!

It has spread. The plague known as Kylie's 1997 Haircut has reached from its tiny pool of fake-rockers to the vast ocean of legitimate artists! Everybody hide the scissors!

Why, Thom Yorke, why? Why have you done this to me? Here I am, bitching predjudicely about how shitty that haircut is, and like three days later, you do this to me:



Are you mad at me? Or is this because you're kinda balding? Is this the new look for masking the receding hair-line? Because I'm here to tell you that we can all still see it. We can ALWAYS see when you try to hide it.

Don't be ashamed of your hairline, Thom. Go with it! Just say fuck it and shave that shit off! Be proud of your head and display it with the confidence of those that have come before you. Those such as prime alpha male Bruce Willis. Because, dude...bald men are HOT. Like, ragingly-I-wanna-slap-your-head-around deliciously hot.

But whatever you do...don't allow yourself to look like David Cook. Go with Bruce, young one:



Cuddles,
Summie

Things I Don’t Understand: Part Quindici

What the hell is up with kids these days? I have seriously retreated to my front porch with a cocktail, screaming at bitches to get off my lawn. I keep seeing all these "hot celeb guys" all over my gossip sites and it just sicks me out! Like, who thought over-razored hair and dick-tip-pink lipstick was bangin' on a dude? Who is the motherfucker that started this? How has metrosexualism actually gotten WORSE? Didn't anyone see South Park?!

Boys should be gross and dirty and pale and meaty. I am tits sure that if you tried to make a move on one of these pansies, they'd wig out that their queefstorm hair might get messed up.

I'm just sayin', every one of these dudes has the exact same haircut as this girl I used to work with this girl named Kylie in the late 1990's. Nothing good can come from this.

Apologies in advance for the evidence:

Photoshop Fun Time!

I've got a bitchin' participatory game for us! If you wanna play, just superimpose bitches into the picture of the week, or the subject into other hilarious situations and post it in the comments.

This week, I give you the ever perfectly facial structured, even when she's making silly faces...

Jake: Tonsilitis


Now, feast your eyes on my Photoshops of Doom!!!

Lil' Jake keepin' it real, son!



The Grudjake. Oh my GOD, I scared the living shit out of myself making this one because we all know The Grudge is out to get me...



And finally, Sir Jake-a-Lot. You otha brothas can't deny!




Your turn!

God Bless Corporate America

If you had any idea how many soul sucking PowerPoint graphs and Visios I have made, pleading for stakeholders to approve my proposal of how to change stupid and utterly pointless shit in my past, you, too, would throw your head back and cackle with glee at these:



 

Woooooooooooow

I know. I know you didn't think it was possible for me to be ever hawter than ever before, but the moment has arrived, bitches.



Hooves, people. I have hooves! And backwards bendy legs! This seriously makes me so happy that I'm afraid I have to now undergo years of painful and expensive cosmetic surgery to achieve this look in daily life. Hooray!!

Any why is it that World of Warcraft so much more awesome than my own life? It’s like crack laced with niccotine and chocolate.

Seriously, y’all. I was having a delightful sketti and meatballs dinner with my fabulous parents, and I kept catching myself thinking, man. I can’t wait to log on and level up my Night Elf tonight.

I’m so getting ready to turn into a translucent, pimply, fat, un-washed uber gamer. I can’t wait!

Grodies Revealed

My gansta ass balla took me to see the Bodies Revealed exhibit this weekend, and it was pretty cool. I’d give it a 5 on the entertainment scale, only because everyone says that Body Worlds is so much more artistically (and dignifiedly) done, that I think I would brave the mild barfies again to go and see that one instead.

The fetus display was surprisingly my fav, even though I was pretty sure it would sick me out the most. The only part that gave me the wig was all the sliced up shit. They had one dude cut up like a roll of Lifesavers, and I started to feel like I might need to heave up my lunch a little.

Of course it was at this precise moment that Dan decided to make a cheese joke. This would be a good time to note that the treated skin on the bodies looked remarkably like Asiago. And I totally gagged. Like LOUDLY. This only egged him on of course, and so we spent the remainder of our time at the exhibit alternating between making rude gagging noises and giggling.

God, maturity rocks!

Top Five!!!

Top Five Reasons My New Job Kicks Ass:

5. My boss is fabulous. This chica seriously popped out a kid like 5 minutes ago and is hotter than doughnut grease. Plus, she hired me and actually came in on my first day to welcome me and take me to lunch even though she’s still on maternity. Do you want to bust your ass for this woman, or what?

4. The building is gorgeous and had oodles of exposed brick and crazy awesome skating rink floors. It’s like sunny loft in Power and Light District heaven!

3. My commute is ridiculous. It’s only 5 miles away, bitches. I can SO take the bus and have uncomfortable staring matches with the hair tokin’ hippies.

2. I sit right across from Cory. I can SO throw shit over the wall and have uncomfortable staring matches with everyone’s favorite hippie!

1. It’s not my old company. OMG, it’s so far from it, I feel like I’m having culture shock for cereal! The people are so laid back and genuinely happy, and my team is recognized and valued within the company. I did my first project today, and my teammate told me what a good job I did. I was so taken aback at being praised for my work that I felt like I fell into a bucket of tits and came out sucking my thumb. Positive reinforcement…Can you imagine??!? God, I’m so stoked!

I Made a Caturday

Hunter Lather

I often like to think about what it would be like if we were all suddenly transported back to hunter-gatherer times. You know, when people had to fight to survive, contribute to the greater good of the community, and generally be productive members of society.

I usually indulge in this daydream while trying to enjoy a movie at the theater, and some creephole is talking/eating/texting loudly during a film that I paid $12 freaking dollars to watch. Listen here, twat. You would have to pay ME to listen to your insipid teeny-bopper conversations, so shut. The hell. UP. Oh my God. I should kick the living crap out of you. Twice!

Gaah! And it’s so unfair to me that I would be the one to get in trouble for beating the sanchez out of these rude asses. Like, I am just trying to restore social order here. They are the ones that can’t function in public.

Throughout like every other time in humanity, some awesome alpha would have pwned a d-bag like that for being so disruptive. And as a result, everyone else would be able to continue enjoying themselves, applaud and possibly reward said alpha with gratuitous nookie, and other potential d-bags would watch this vicious beating take place and think, dang. I guess I better shut the eff up, huh?

Stupid modern laws.

Home Depot Dismemberment

Nelle and I went to buy some gorgeous kitchen paint at Home Depot the other day, which should be a completely uneventful story, except for that I almost amputated my own fingers while carrying the stupid gallons of paint around by their poorly engineered handles. My paws seriously turned purple, y’all. PURPLE! I know, right?! That’s like the most embarrassing possible way lose a body part. In fact, I’m embarrassed that I even just told you.

The only way I’d want to have my fingers lopped is because I like, reached into the jaws of a bull shark to save a baby. Or better yet, became an amputee at the hands of another amputee. Which is impossible, you see.

Heh heh heh.

New Giggity

So as you have probably heard by now, I have a new job!!! I’m so excited, I just sharted a little.

Of course, my former company helped to loosen my bowels during my exit interview when the HR partner morphed from unassuming and lispy into Samuel L. Jackson upon telling me that she knew I had been applying for other jobs. She even quoted a personal e-mail in which I said I was happy to job hunt on their dime…from memory. Can you say terrifying?!?!

Um, so wow, am I grateful as hell to be moving to a new company, not only to get back into writing and to work for a boss that’s so superfly, she hired me whilst home on maternity leave, but also because I’m pretty much over chillin’ in 1984. I did that once, and I was entirely too adorable to keep tabs on. Behold:




Wish me luck babies…I start on April 1st and can’t freaking wait!!!

Parasitic Pets

My pets are repulsive. I present to you exhibit A:



I mean, what the hizzy?

They fricking opened the top cabinet, knocked down the bag of food, ripped it open and feasted. Had the carnage ended there, I might have just been impressed that Beast (most likely) is such a smarty that he Octagoned that shit outta there.

But of course, but it doesn’t end there. They totally GORGED themselves, vomited it all back up, and gorged themselves some more. Seriously, y’all, it was like a damn sorority house in here. There was a trail of orange cat spew all the way upstairs to the toilet, where some dumbass tried to drink water, then hacked up watery barf all over Dan’s shatter books.

I’m so getting a dog.

Bronze Tongued

Why is it that you only think of something badass to say after someone gets in your face?! Today, my bastard neighbor confronted me in the driveway to ask if I was mad at them. You know, cuz we’re in sixth grade, evidently.

Then he proceeded to spin some bullshit story about how it wasn’t them that yelled at me, but the across the street neighbor. Right…like I can’t remember the douche that slammed a door in my face. I just wish so badly that I hadn’t dorked out and been all, "oh, hi, um hum hum hum!" And instead said something cool like:

Wow. It only took your fat ass three months to finally sac up and say something to me?

Dude, I’m blonde, not blind.

Oh, I’m not mad. I just mutilated your dogs out of neighborly love.

I’d rather get fucked up the ass with my own cat than have this conversation.

Hmm, I think I hear something. Is that…is that a dick dribbling I hear? Why yes! Yes, it is!

Hey, aren’t you that guy that made that Bowling for Columbine movie?

HELP! HELP!! *runs away*

Even if I believed the bold faced lie that it wasn’t you guys, why would I ever be cool with people that stood by and watched a man harass a couple of girls without intervening?

Have we met?

I once killed a man who looked exactly like you.

The real question here, bitch tits, is if my friend Ronald is mad at you...

Is that vagina mayonnaise I smell? You should really wash your cooch.

What wicked stuff would you bitches have said?

Letters of Gangst

Dear Winter,
Shut the fuck up. You’re terrible and I wish you to go away and never come back. Until X-mas eve…then you can snow and be pretty, but come December 26th, begone!
Frozen tits,
Summie

Dear Job,
Oh my GOD I hate you so much. I often wish I could choose between being slowly tortured by Katan dolls and attending nine hours of useless boredom where I try not to gouge out my eyes just to have something to do. I can’t wait to give you the finger, you stupid skank!
Yawns,
Summie

Dear Jake,
Dude, you just seriously gave birth to the most adorable baby girl EVER. She’s fricking precious and beautiful and now I totally want one. Like,OMG BAD. But in a good way. Cuz I’m totally gonna get married first so I can get trashed at my future wedding someday. Anywho, I’m for realz stoked for you and just want to single-white-female you even more with the newest Preu addition.
Uterus aches,
Summie

I So Wish My Job Was Doing This All Day

God, I love superimposing people into pictures!

Letters of Angst

Dear Corporate Properties Department,
Hi. So I know you’re all a bunch of dudes, and rarely have an occasion to come into the ladies’ room (except for those times that I’m sure y’all have to come in to like, change the camera angles) and so you don’t probably realize how motherfucking cold it is in there. Allow me to illuminate you. When I need to drop a deuce, the last thing I want to worry about is getting frostbite on my ass cheeks. It’s the middle of winter for clit’s sake! Turn the air conditioning off already!
Freezer burn,
Summie

Dear Dan,
You are so hot, it hurts me. That being said, you know how we have a dishwasher? Yeah, I know! Modern technology truly is amazing! However, there are still advances to be made in the field of automatic dishwasher engineering. For instance, there is currently no feature that levitates the gross dirty dish that you just set on the counter, like four inches above it, into the rack. So please, throw mama a frickin’ bone here and load the damn dishwasher, baby.
Domestic violence,
Summie

Dear Belly Button Piercing,
Screw you. You were a terrible idea and now I’m totally fucked on taking the ring out because you left such a disgusting scar. It for realz looks like I have two bellybuttons. You can suck my balls for being legal to do at the tender age of 18. Don’t you know that 18 year olds are retards and have no business making body-altering decisions.
Hole punches,
Summie

Eugenix

Genealogy rocks. Ok, well maybe it's totally lame, but I'm on this inexplicable kick to find all of my ancestors as humanly possible.

It's funny though because the process you have to use to find your gene pool bitches is to look by the daddy's last name. This seems pretty retarded to me because like, we all KNOW who the mama is…but daddy can be, how shall I put this delicately? Uh, the damn medicine man! So here I am pouring over this huge volume of information when maybe my bloodline doesn't really go all the way back to King James of Scotland (which clearly, it totally does) and maybe instead goes to Vlad the Impaler. Which would pwn, actually.

Which leads me to my most grotesque line of thinking; holy shit! What if I find out like, Dan and I are somehow related? I mean I'm just sayin, one time I accidentally went on a blind date with a dude who turned out to be my second cousin, which was largely hot, but, you know. Incestuous.

So on that disturbing note, I leave you with photos of the superior genes that produced such a magnificent specimen of humanity such as myself.

(And possibly my boyfriend. Mmmm oooooh yeaaaaah! )


Maternal great-great grandparents (and random mooch) chugging moonshine:
Note the fancy necklace with the easy-access hole in her dress combo. Now you see where I get my fashion sense and alcoholism. Tee hee!




Paternal great-uncle, Great-Grandpa and Grandpa being all great and pimp-like on 18th and Brookelyn in KC, MO. You know, before it was the ghetto:



Maternal great-grandparents working the super cereal serious faces:



Grandma Toni bringin' sexy back to tha chicken coop:


Ma with her adorable giant hair and Pa bustin' out the 5-0:


It's a wonder I haven't set my own face on fire with all this hawtness flowing through my veins.