Sunday, February 11, 2007

Coming Soon... The Dynamic Duo Takes on the Lone Star State!

"I just took a big, greasy dump that looks like Dennis Rodman."

"It has tattoos?"

"And a wedding dress."

"Don't flush that fucker. I want to take it out to dinner. And a movie."

"You can't take it out to dinner. It WAS dinner."


"I fucking love T.I. His CD is the next one I'm downloading. Like, tomorrow."

"Doesn't he play football?"

"That's T.O. you fucking honky."

"T-something. Whatever."

"Just so you know, T.P. is toilet paper. Not an African American celebrity."

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

Our Snatches Are At War With Us

Well, the disgusting bag of yeast, also known as my co-blogger, Ms. Leg, isn't the only one with a pissed off snatch. Nope, my Garden For Jesus is officially revolting against me as well. What a fucking busted ass sitchy-ation.

My cervix is moldy or some shit. I've had two Doc's up my twizzat since October, nosing around down there, and I've gotta go back AGAIN in three months to rule out the ol' dysplasia. Fuckin' YEAH. Anybody ever had that? I guess I'll wait until April to see if I need to sweat bullets or shove a cheese shredder in my glory hole to rub off the cellular mutations. Shoot me.

Friday, January 19, 2007

Leg's 2007 Update

These first few weeks of 2007 have been eventful ones, to say the least. Let me share a few brief synopses with you all, so that you might share in my wonderment.

My New Years was spent at a local drinking/karaoke/dancing establishment with a group of friends, a few of whom I agreed to be the designated driver for, which proved to be the biggest mistake of 2006 (yes, even bigger than that ENORMOUSLY LARGE mistake I made while visiting Snaps' hometown... a mistake which involved one wayward finger and a lot of COME HERE's). We attended this event on the invitation of one of a blog readers (thanks Isabelehere!) , and although it was a relatively last minute decision, I'm really glad we went. I admittedly slammed a few appletini's and some champagne before midnight (and don't you judge me- if I'm going to pay $30 to get into a place then I'm AT LEAST going to enjoy a few of the amenities), but stopped drinking abruptly in order to sober up by closing time. Afterwards, we attended an NAACP party hosted by an old high school theatre buddy, which proved to be EXCEPTIONALLY AWKWARD, especially considering the six of us were the only NON African Americans among the 80 or so party attendees. Luckily, we were immediately welcomed with open arms by our old friend, and the rest of the crowd followed suit upon realizing we all grew up together in the 'hood. Eventually, I was able to chauffer everyone home safely and fell into bed a mere hour before I needed to wake up for work. Typical.

The niece recently celebrated her first birthday, and believe me when I say she is getting more adorable by the minute. She talks, she walks (correction: RUNS), she claps, she dances, she sings, she EATS, and she french kisses. She is such a total joy to be around, and she has the entire family eating out of her palm, especially Grandpa Leg, or "Papa" as she calls him. She adores her Papa, and despite his best efforts, my dad has turned into a total softie because of her. This is the man who moved to a RETIREMENT COMMUNITY at the age of 50 because he was tired of hearing all of those "loud ass god damn kids" who dare to talk, laugh, walk, breathe and exist within a one mile radius of my grumpy old man's presence. But his granddaughter? He changes her poopy diapers and chases her around the house and pretends to eat her toes and teaches her about football and sings the ABC's with her and lets her lick the rim of his vodka glass. He's in love. And so are the rest of us, for that matter.

On a more personal note, I have a raging yeast infection which makes it nearly impossible for me to even function in public. I've only ever experienced this once before, in college, and I must have been too continuously drunk back then to really remember the intense pain associated with it. I've recently considered amputation from the waist down. My vag region is a fucking public hazard zone of epic proportions, and I'm thinking of applying to FIMA for federal disaster relief aid, because in case you didn't already know, Monistat is fucking expensive. And messy.

I'm hoping that sometime next month before my move, I will receive a visit from my dearest internet friend and co-bloggee. HINT, HINT SNAP- BUY YOUR FUCKING PLANE TICKET BEFORE I SHAVE YOUR BALD SPOT IN YOUR SLEEP. (If that wasn't the most anti-climactic threat I've ever made in my life, then I count myself a complete and utter failure as a human being). It's crawfish season down here in the South, and Lord knows that last time Snap was in my hometown we ate a trough of crawfish weighing more than one of those morbidly obese babies on Maury, in addition to some fried alligator, fried pickles, and a few beers. I haven't been back to that HEAVENLY establishment since she left, because inhaling crawfish between puffs of Marlboros and swigs of Shiner just isn't the same without my favorite Midwesterner.

And finally, the topic you've all been waiting for (or maybe not), THE MOVE. I can't tell you all how supremely stressful this whole thing has been, and I'm not even going to try to explain all my woes to you here. That being said, after setting many of the wheels in motion to relocate to the West Coast, I've decided that there are about one million too many reasons why moving across the country RIGHT NOW is a terrible idea. I feel like a major pussy sell-out saying this, but I might as well just put it out there: I'm staying here for at least a few more months. In many ways I dread the thought of that, but at the same time I'm still a bit excited. I will be relocating to a different city within the state, keeping me much closer to my friends and family for the time being, which is supremely important to me right now for numerous reasons. I will potentially be ready to get my surf on around late May, barring my unforseen death or dismemberment.

So that's what's new with me. A relatively boring and unfunny post, I know, but I felt like I needed to get the '07 update out of the way before anything else. Hope the new year is going well for all of our readers out there (meaning Snaps' mom) and may 2007 bring lots of good news and great times!

Wednesday, January 17, 2007

Because You Can't Buy Batteries with Food Stamps.

Me: "I just stole some batteries from work for my vibrator. Is that unethical?"

Fats: "Nope. If it improves your standard of care, it's your professional responsibility."

Me: "I knew we were friends for a reason."

Saturday, January 13, 2007

He's A Master Baiter

I went ice fishing with the main man today. It was so relaxing, I almost fell asleep in my fucking lawn chair while I made my little minnow dance in the river. It was ten below zero, and I'm not exaggerating when I tell you I made my own piss-sicle today. I cut back on my Diet Dewski intake just so that I wouldn't have to expose my bare ass to the elements more than once, because it was THAT cold. Yikes. After a few hours of reeling in pigs, er, walleyes, the fella and I went home and continued with the day's theme of put-the-pole-in-the-hole. Obviously, the day was an excellent one. I love that the dude takes me out to participate in his manly extra-curriculars and never makes me feel like a sissy pantsed pussy girl, nor would he let his friends (who strive to be as manly as he is) pull a stunt like that, either.

Today is the three month anniversary of his return home. The day's events were a fitting celebration. We have more and more fun all the time, and continue to get to know each other with every visit, even though I've known him long enough to remember when he had hair, and he's known me long enough to remember when I was flat chested. Amen to that.

Sunday, January 07, 2007

I haven't found my 2007 voice yet.

With no desire to be funny or witty, but a small itch to update, here's what I've got - bulletpoints.

*I wrecked my car about a week ago, en route to shoot wedding photos in the city I used to live in. A replacement was found for me within an hour, so I didn't single handedly ruin a beautiful union, thank God. I walked away from the totaling of my car with a sore back and chest that lasted two days and was then gone. This past Friday I bought a 2002 Jeep Liberty, and I'm loving my "Sports Utility Vagina", as our girl Marit so lovingly puts it.

*I'm running a full speed sprint in the direction OPPOSITE of an unwanted and unnecessary depression. I'm thinking it's the time of year, or maybe just a culmination of realizing life isn't moving at the speed I want it to, or maybe just fucking brain chemistry - who knows! I'm relieved that I'm not in the depths of 14-hours-of-sleep-at-one-time or fake sick calls to my job, so that in itself is a good thing. However, most days I'm bored and lonely when I'm no longer at work, and that combination has me considering a good cry on a daily basis. So far I haven't given in, because I don't have anything to be genuinely sad or blue about.

*All is well in the land of love, but my guy is overwhelmed a lot of the time. He's got a ton on his plate with returning to teaching, coaching boys basketball, catching up with friends and family, squeezing 15 months of missed hunting and fishing into random days or weekends off, and starting a relationship with yours truly. He's much more stable and sane than I'll ever be, so he does all of this stuff with patience and without temper tantrums. Because of all that he's got going, I have to be plenty patient, and fuck I'm not used to that! I've been doing a damn good job, however, but it does get trying. I know that in my mind, I pictured us seeing each other a lot more than we do (which is probably 3 days a week or so), so my reality has had to adjust to my imagination. At the end of the day, however, I'm thankful for being in a relationship that is the most normal, respectful, and worthwhile man-woman adventure I've ever been a part of.

Well, folks, my dog just dropped a duke on her piss pad, so I best flush that lump down the shitter. Bare with me - my brain should be back on and functioning at it's normal rate of CRAZY in due time. Stay tuned.

Tuesday, January 02, 2007

For No Reason, Really

So, I've gots the blues. I think it's because I've finally gotten into my routine here in my new cit-ay, but I'm without the circle of friends I had before. I've got too much time on my hands. Most of my down time is spent waiting and waiting to see the hunk o' man meat again, and I don't really want to be that way. I think I'm going to join the gym pretty quick here, because I don't need to be sitting around the house all the time after I get home from work. I like my cable and all, but I don't like it THIS much.

I totaled my car last week, in other news. The only injury I received was to my ego, because I'm stuck driving around in a 2006 Ford Taurus as a result. BLEGH. I test drove a 2002 Jeep Liberty tonight, so maybe that will be parked in front of my methplex before long. Time will tell.

I'm still poppin' my anti-D's, as well as my legal speed for the ol' ADHD, so not sure what the deal is. I'm not crying or sleeping too much or any of that stuff, I'm just kind of in a funk. I think it's really the friend thing, to be totally honest. I don't have a sidekick here who gets my sense of humor and tosses it right back at me. It seems that the females in this area are really into mommy/wife mode by the time they're my age, and I'm just not down with that. I don't want to talk about kids and mortgages and painting the basement. I want to talk about turds and hand jobs and Dog the Bounty Hunter. Too bad all of my friends who are into that live a minimum of 6.5 hours away, and fuck, that's seriously the minimum. Boo. I need a rent-a-friend.