I'm Hawt.

I have a boil. On my ASS. Yes, I know it's grodie, but I bring my babies good stories, even at my own expense.

So, this boil. I noticed it last night and wanted to scream and throw myself on the floor and flip around in angst, but I slapped some vitamin E on it and hoped for the best. Well, any of you that sit at a desk all day know how well that plan worked out. It felt like someone had stabbed me in the butt cheek with a corn cob skewer, so I decided to go to a docta.

So there I was chillin' when the doctor came in. And he was HOT. Like, offensively good looking and a DOCTOR, oh my God. So he was like, what are we seeing you for today? And I was like, um. I think I have a boil. And he went, where is it? And I went, oh, you know…on my butt. And then I died inside.

Dude, I just hate going to male doctors. Ever since the Kevin Spacey-look-a-like gyno nightmare, I've sworn them off. It's bad enough when they're creepy and gross, but it's almost worse if they're attractive and nice because I mean, who the eff wants to drop trowel in front of a hottie unless it's for recreational purposes, right?!

Picnic Nip Slip

So word, I was wolfing down pizza at a kick ass birthday picnic when the super hot birthday girl leaned over to me and said," See the girl talking to my dad? That's my future sister-in-law. Isn't she cute?" To which I replied, "Well, uh. Yes. But she's about to put your dad's eye out with her nipples, yo. Bizshoiiing!" Then made rude finger-antennae finger gestures over my boobs.

We had a good giggle, but pretty soon, she came over to give birthday hugs and to introduce herself to me and my darling boy. After she wandered away, The Boy turns to me and says, "DUDE. When she leaned over to shake my hand, I saw her entire left tit."

Hahahahaaa! Awesome!

But seriously, people. How is she not aware of her nibbies being highly visible through her top? Didn't she notice? I know I notice! I'm just telling you, I don't even have ta tas and I ALWAYS wear a bra. Especially if I'm going to be around my significant other's parents. Oh my GOD. I'd rather die than nip out in front of sweet old Papa Octagon!

I mean, wouldn't you be cognizant enough of your bodily...stuff...to know to put that shit away?! Gross!

Furious Fish Rant

You know I try to support local biznazz. My folks owned one for 20 years, for snatch's sake! So instead of going to a more convenient chain to get a pet fish, I chose a neighborhood pet shop in Waldo. I did this fully expecting that I would trade saving a few bucks for the superb customer service one can expect from a mom and pop shop.


Unfortunately, this pet store missed the bus on that notion. I bought a boring ass fish bowl and supplies for $21.00 bones. They should have given me a damn hand job for that!! And even though they were out of Bettas at the time, they promised that the shipment would arrive on Monday. I've been to that mother effing store three times, and they are still out.



And you know what? It might have been fine if the staff had been anything but absent. Check it out. Jake and I bust into the shop, and after looking for an employee for like, six years, I finally find a ho to ask if the fish have arrived. And she looks at me and says,"Well, obviously not, or they'd be on the shelf." Well, obviously I don't work here, bitch, because I've brushed my hair sometime in the last two weeks, so how the hell am I supposed to know where the shit goes on the shelf?



I know WalMart is a soul sucking corporate bully, but you know what? They always have the shit you're after for 40% of the cost. At 3:27AM. With ammo you can buy at the same time as shit sheets. Yeah, they don't answer your questions, treat their suppliers well, or play fair with the community, but they're all androids and you know what you're getting when you go in there. Namely, what you came for.



Local businesses should really take note if they want to compete, because at the bare minimum, they need to provide good customer service to give me incentive to come spend extra dough on their product.

Why I Hate the World: Reason Number 728

Oh my GOD. I had the most hideous trip to the mall today. I'm minding my own business, flipping through a clearance rack, when the sales girl busts right in front of me to put away something. This totally pisses me off. I mean, can you wait the six seconds it would take for me to move on before you invade my bubble? And as if this weren't enough, she says to me, "These are the smalls. The medium and large racks are over there."

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WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TRYING TO SAY, BITCH?! You like my FAT ASS? I will DESTROY YOU, CONSUME YOU, AND SHIT OUT YOUR SOUL. Jesus ass! So I tell myself that she has a depth perception problem, and I decide to go ahead and try on a couple of jackets, but the dressing rooms are full. Rather than wait ten hours, or get all up in people's faces to stand in front of the dressing room mirror, I ask a sales lady where another mirror is. She looks at me all slack-jawed and vacant and points to the exact same dressing room mirror that I told her I was trying to avoid.

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I've had about enough at this point, so I furiously clutch my purchases and take them to the counter, when this ugly, leather skinned hag and her demon spawn cut in front of me. This trip has been such a fucking nightmare, that I just take it as an opportunity to put back a shirt that I've changed my mind about. The scary child devil springs over to the rack and points to the shirt that I've just discarded and says, "This is so cute, mom!" And mom retorts, "Not really," then turns her creaky, handbag peg neck, and gives me the evil eye.

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So I cut in front of her, pay, and get the hell out. Unfuckingreal, y'all! I will never leave my house again!