An Evening With.....Smile Big & Pretty

Introducing the first of many "An Evening With..." where I sit down and have a Skype interview with the bloggers we all know and love and ask them stupidly retarded questions that will either lead to laughter or awkward silences that will ruin both of our blogging careers!

The first person who signed up to do this is Jas over at Smile Big & Pretty who practically jumped on the idea of doing something stupid and that's probably because she's a wonderfully talented person who can't get enough of the camera and in any one's definition that should technically be a camera whore but she's not a whore and I'll punch anyone who says so but I'm totally not going to punch myself for writing this because did I mention that she was awesome? OK, I might punch her for the cup that she owns but that's totally besides the point and I'd just like to say that she isn't a whore. OK? She's awesome and I've got to give her kudos for being the one to break "An Evening With..." cherry and took away it's virginity as if it were a dirty, back alley prom night.

Also, that creepy voice I do? That's actually my normal voice. If I were a sexual predator. Which I'm not. Maybe. Just a little bit.



If after watching this you feel you want to be interviewed and subjected to that creepy sexual predator voice, please email me and let me know.

Also stay tuned next Wednesday when I have An Evening With...Katie from Simply Katie!

Unscheduled Break Due To A Friend's Vagina Being Forever Ruined

Due to the fact that one of my best friends in the world allowed her vagina to be destroyed by giving birth to her first child and more importantly my Godson, I wont be doing a normal post until Wednesday or Thursday.

When I do return it will be with a new segment called "An Evening With..." where I foolishly interview innocent and not so innocent bloggers with questions about boobs and dead bodies and french motorboats.

As always, if you would like to be apart of "An Evening With..." please let me know here.

This Might Explain Why I'm Banned From The Pet Shop

What would happen if a Cat and a Rabbit decided one day that each other looked super sexy in that fur they are wearing and suddenly decide that the best thing for them to do is go into the backroom at a corner store and put on sexy music and suddenly just do it.

Would the Cat stick around after the Rabbit found out it was pregnant with Cabbit’s and become the father it was always supposed to be or would it suddenly decide “Screw this shit, that rabbit is a whore!” and run off down the next alley after the next stupid slutty animal and the rabbit would be left to raise the horde of baby Cabbit’s all by it’s self and the little babies would grow up with an angry, chain smoking mother Rabbit who blamed them all for ruining the best thing of her life and they should all just start working in brick factories to pay for her cigarettes and special magic juice that makes her walk funny and slurr her words.

And eventually when the baby Cabbits are adult Cabbits they suddenly decide that they should go look for their father and see why he had left them to such a horrible fate and when they track him down he is in some alley drunk and dying of Feline AIDS because instead of raising them he decided that he was just going to sleep around with anything that moved and the adult Cabbit’s are left with a bittersweet taste in their mouth over the father that fathered them and they leave the alley thinking that they will be better parents than their parents but OOPS! They are mutant freaks and all sterile so they die alone without kids.

It’s thoughts like this that make The Pilot refuse to let me have another pet because he’s afraid I’d try and breed it with Bowie just to see what type of twisted, dramatic Monday afternoon Soap Opera would play out in our livingroom.

I Should Have Paid More Attention In Sensitivity Training

Co-Worker: WOW

Me: What?

Co-Worker: Old Worker is odd!

Me: why?

Co-Worker:  He Just is.

Me:because he's going to corner you one day and then wear your face?

Co-Worker: Probably, he seems like the serial killer type.

Me: and then he will win best you lookalike contest

Co-Worker:  ....

Me: and probably get like 10 bucks because that's what that contest would be worth and then he'd be all in prison and at group therapy he'd be "I can't believe I killed someone for ten measly dollars" and then cry. he's pretty much that odd

Co-Worker: Ya, pretty much. I can't believe he's a trainer.

Me: they should do a "will you potentially kill your co-workers" test before hiring anyone.

Co-Worker: i cant imagine how awkward that training session would go...

Me: I'm sure those training sessions end with the HR lady holding a doll and saying "Show us where the bad man trained you" sort of dealio. So I would say pretty awesome.

Can You Count The Awesome? It's Over 9000!

 Dear Me,

I know we are extremely awesome and have extremely awesome things to do so I'll try and keep this letter short. I just wanted to write and tell us about our own awesomeness (Yeah, I know, we already know how awesome we are and don't need to be told by our past-self how awesome we are but it still needs to be said how totally awesome we are) but as our past-self I know that we'll look back at this in the future and be all "Wow, that was really awesome of me to write myself in the future like that to tell me just how awesome I am. I am so awesome of thinking of myself like that. Just awesome."

I wanted to write this letter just in case we ever (which, cmon, why would we ever forget this?) how awesome we are. Do you remember that time we joined the Sisterhood and planned on devoting our life to a higher spiritual calling but eventually got bored and decided to smuggle in a dog and a gun just for the hell of it? You don't? We were probably high on cocaine glitter at the time but thankfully we got a picture:

Or the time we decided that we'd grow this wicked awesome beard to show the world that just because this guy is our dad we automatically have the ability to out awesome any beard in a three galactic radius but we eventually shaved it because it began to itch and tickle our nose and guys don't really respond very well when you jump in front of them and ask them "who wants a mustache ride?!" and then make motorboat sounds in the direction of their crotch?
Or the time we decided that we were going to join the Rebel Forces because that douche in a helmet was totally cramping our style and the best way to help with the rebel forces was to run around all hairy and small and make no sense and dance around and sing songs that were totally about how we were eventually going to murder the real Rebel Forces in their sleep and use their skulls as outhouses for our various bodily functions but no one took us seriously because we couldn't speak English and we looked rather cute dancing and hoping around with our sharpened spears?

Or the time we decided that since we were so awesome we should learn how to kick ass and we scissor kicked our way to awesomeness and inspired a lot of people that finally they decided to make a biography film about our achievements but ended up getting jipped out of the final cut because the director decided that if our collective awesomeness was captured on the big screen the awesome of it would melt the eyes of those watching and since they wanted people to actually be able to see the awesome they had someone else star in it?
Or the time we became a model because we're just so ridiculously good looking?

Wow, we lead such an awesome freakin' life don't we? Please don't ever stop being this awesome or else awesome past us will have to create some sort of time travelling device to travel to the future and use our awesome Ka-raw-tay* on future us in punishment of ceasing to be awesome but then the mere fact that our past self travelled to the future to kick the ass of future us is so awesome in itself it'd set us back on the awesome path. Except we'd just be that much more awesome for it.

Stay awesome,
Future Us

*It's how all the cool kids say it

Some Say Didgeridoo, I Say DidgeriWTF?

Everyone has this one store that every single time they go into it they have to leave with something no matter how stupid it is or how expensive and whoever tells you that "I can go into any store without buying anything at all!" is a stupid whore that deserves to get punched off of their soapbox because they totally go into the soapbox store and buy boxes that they can be whores on. It's that type of whore logic they use to try and avoid being caught buying those soapboxes. Stupid whores.

For me? That store is the local music store in town even though I am musically retarded and can't even play a simple flute and every time I try to play something eleven thousand orphan kitten babies catch fire and die.

Yet this hasn't stopped me from going into that store and coming out with an acoustic guitar, a ukulele, and a child size accordion. Each time The Pilot has passively told me that I don't need to buy anything every time I go into the music store because not every instrument you find should be bought and when it is clear that I am ignoring him he wanders off to the farthest corner so he doesn't watch my buy said item but can eventually lecture me later about how dumb of a purchase it was an how I should treat instruments as tools and not decorative decorations I can get bored with after a few hours and leave them laying around as conversational pieces. But screw him, what does he know? They make awesome stories. The whore.

This weekend was no different. We went into the music store because The Pilot happens to be very musically talented and needed something for something and after promising I wouldn't buy anything stupid and stay within his line of sight the whole time I managed to wander off and after begging for a piano I happened to find something ten times better but a hundred times more confusing.

Standing in the corner at the checkout was a stand of Didgerifuckingdoo's that I instantly knew I had to buy and despite it being fifty dollars for something I couldn't even fathom how to play I proudly declared to everything that I was "Fucking buying this thing" and once again The Pilot told me no and when I held firm he wandered off so he wouldn't have to watch my stupid actions go down in stupidity.

Once outside of the store I realized that this thing is as tall as I am and when The Pilot refused to carry it the ten feet to the vehicle I started yelling at him through my Didgeridoo as if it were a giant megaphone that I happened to be yelling in on a sidewalk of the middle of a busy downtown street. Needless to say I almost didn't have a ride home because The Pilot locked me out of the vehicle until I put the Didgeridoo down and stopped yelling at him to unlock the doors.

On the drive home I uttered a phrase that I would never have figured I would ever say in my life when I had to promise The Pilot I wouldn't use the instrument as a megaphone when I said "Fine, I'll Didgeridoo Responsibly!".

When I got home I was quick to chase Bowie around with my giant megaphone and promptly made him terrified of it until The Pilot took it away from me and forbid me from ever touching it again until I learned how to properly play it. So I looked it up and when I realized it was stupid complex I basically had a "Screw that" moment and waited until The Pilot was asleep to Didgeridoo him awake.

It took massive amount of treats to get him to sit next to an instrument for all he knew killed his biological birth mother.

A Dramatic Reading Of A Sexy Pirate Story 3

Because I missed last weeks editions of The Pirates of Desire I was tempted to do another video tomorrow of this dramatic reading but then I realized that I do sort of have a life and boyfriend that would love attention so I said screw it and just posted one for today.

Are you going to enjoy it? Yes, yes you are. Is it sexy? Probably! Is there mentions of tits and boobies? Yes, yes there is.

A Coyote Sings I Wanna Be Bad

Last month I happened to stumble on something at once extremely stupid yet fantastically awesome because it involved a large group of people potentially embarrassing themselves by singing songs to their computers, recording it and having random strangers post it in the Internet for others to laugh at, or sing along with. Or maybe they'll even punch the computer in a massive roid rage because the person who is singing is ten times better then what they could sing and it just shows that jealousy is a terrible thing and the only cure is punching.

Despite the fact that when I sing male cats probably think it's a female cat in heart  I signed up to do it. Why? Because I'm stupid.

The person I have the chance to host happens to be Coyote Rose over at Dancing On The Bar of Life. It was the first time I have ever stumbled across her blog and I immediately found out that she's a super duper History Buff and blatantly throws that around on twitter and documents it in a hilarious way and the rest of her blog is just pure gold.

Her video is pure gold too. She sings and she dances and it makes me want to flip my desk in a rage because I'm so jealous I want to start punching her in the face. Maybe, kinda of, not really. (I swear I wont punch you in the face Coyote Rose!)

She is also singing Willia Ford "I Wanna Be Bad".




Oh, and the horrendously stupid video I did? That will be posted over at Jes Getting Started and all I can really say is, god help that poor girl when she looks at my video. She'll probably weep and then punch herself in the face not out of jealous but out of the need to make me stop singing.

I Texted The Word VAGINA Four Times To My Baby Brother

I have a youngest brother who is a lot younger than I and he just happens to be at such an age where he’s forced to live with my parents who are retired in a desolate location so far away from town that they can’t even have the Internet and only a few channels on their television that ensures he’s a bored, bored little boy who, sometimes unfortunately, has access to my parents cell phone and texts like he’s calling for help.

Which, in some cases, that’s exactly what his texts are.

Last night we decided we were going to watch a show together and when I say decided it was more of a fact that I mentioned that this show was on and he decided to watch it with me and text me throughout the whole thing.  The funny thing about this show is that they sometimes have a guest “psychic” on it called Chip Coffee who is flamboyantly stupid and I’ve made several jokes to the dismay of my youngest brother that Chip Coffee, is in fact, his real father.

For your amusement, I present you the texts that took place last night during our show.

Youngest Brother:

ITS OOOOONNNN!!!

Me:

Are you excited that your dad might show up tonight?

YB:

Woot Gay old daddy!

Chip Nipple or whatever his name is.

Not my daddy, just The Pilot in drag (This is in reference to the female psychic they had on the first episode who was as a butch of a lady a chick could get before she crosses over into liking the ladies)

Me:

Ha ha, yeah eh? Maybe your daddy will be in the second episode.

YB:

Maybe the third or fourth episode! That’d be a merical lol

Me:

Only two on tonight.

YB:

Mine theres four.

Me:

Those are old.

YB:

Your old

Me:

Your dad is gay and old.

YB:

Atleast Im not dating a guy who likes to dress like a physicic lesbian

Me:

Yeah I sure love mashing our spectral vaginas together

YB:

LETS DO IT?

Me:

That’s what I say when the spectral vaginas touch.

YB:

Awkward silence.

And then a beam shoots up into space and thats how stars are born

Me:

Stars are born from The Pilots’ lesbian ghost vagina?

YB:

Yup, exactly.

Me:

Oh my god, your mom is in the second episode (And this would be Lorraine Warren, the fake psychic lady who was involved with the Amittyville horror story)

YB:

Meh, that old coon. We had a breaking out

Me:

Yeah when you broke out of her vagina

YB:

More like walk out that ol whore.

Me:

Did  you see your mom grab her own tit?

YB:

No ur ahead

Me:

She grabs her tit. Just for you. The one you suckled.

YB:

I never got a chance. The Pilot dated her when I was born and he was on it 24/7

And really folks, what could I have said to that one?

Mother Nature, I Will Fuck You In The Ass

I woke up this morning to a beautiful day and after two weeks of hot, hot, wonderful weather I decided that "Hey, I'm going to be fucking adventurous today and decide to wear Capri style pants with a tank top and a loose, light hoodie that will be perfect if it gets a bit breezy!" and I patted myself on the back with my awesome future thinking and decided to go to work.

Later that day Mother Nature decided to be a giant fucking VAGINA and decides she's going to shoot a blizzard out of her stupid, earthy vagina and ruin my whole plan of enjoying the sun and dressing to enjoy the sun.

Sunday Photography: The Pilot & His Dog

Unicorns: Judgemental Asshole Prudes

There is nothing that causes more pressure then opening blogger to create a new blog post only to stare at the screen for thirty minutes while your brain epically farts all over itself and refuses to come up with something witty or funny enough to actually write down and share with the world so instead you eventually break down and start writing about how you can’t write anything funny.

I can literally feel the pressure of writing something funny crushing me from the ground up because that’s the type of topsy turvy world I live in. Where everything gets crushed from the ground up.

I’d also like to live in a world where Unicorn were real because then I’d be able to ride them all day long and when they totally call me out for not being a virginal virgin  I could punch them in the face and be the very first person to start the Unicorn Horn Underground Black Market where I sell their horns to horny, old men with floppy wieners as an aphrodisiac and the new fantastical replacement for Viagra.

I’d single handedly be the cause of the near extinction of Unicorns because they are assholes and maybe, eventually they will decide that evolution screwed them by giving them mythical hooves instead of mythical fingers with thumbs so they could defend themselves against guns and punches with their own guns and punches. And then they would force grow them with their mind and find guns and then learn how to punch people.

In this world it is almost a given that I’d probably die in an epic gun and punch fight between a pack of rebel Unicorns with fingers and my own army of Black Market Unicorn Poachers who are armed with guns and punches and eventually right before I realize that one of the Unicorns is my son my giant death star blows up their forest and suddenly the Unicorns are being supported by Ewoks and I die in my Unicorn sons mutated hoof-hands after epically saving his life against the evil Emperor who told me to hurt Unicorns in the first place.

And then the Ewoks throw a wicked awesome party that I’m not invited too because I’m fucking dead.

Dinner & A Pooping Theatre

In previous posts I’ve talked about how embarrassing it is for me a friend to poop at work. Even more so when someone’s tit is hanging out in the air and being milked like a cow in a milking factory.

But now what about pooping at home (My friends home, of course)? Surely that can’t be embarrassing at all because it’s in the privacy of your own home and your home is your castle and you are the master of your domain and in your domain your poop is sacred and possibly second in command and everybody poops in their home and it’s Grand! Awesome! Fantastical!

Am I right? Well, I was right until last night when my friend decided to crap in my their house and decided that because no one was home and The Pilot their boyfriend was at work so there was no need for secrecy and upholding the myth (but in my case it’s very true – sort of like Unicorns and Rainbows) that girls don’t poo.  And they start pooping and suddenly BAM! WHAM! BANG! A furry white devil dog bursts into the bathroom while the poop is still being pooped and the devil dog decides that “Hey, wow, this person is taking a crap! How fucking awesome is this? It’s like...THE BEST THING EVER! You know what would make this cooler? Food, Yeah, that’s right. Food!”

And then the demon devil dog runs out of the bathroom only to return with a mouthful of dog food only to drop it on the floor so he can go back for more and he starts eating the dog food while you are still pooping, grinning the whole time and making sure to have great eye contact because everyone needs that level of supportive eye contact while crapping.

But you know what? Eating while someone is taking a crap isn’t enough, now is it? You know what would be better? If the devil demon dog decided that he was going to line up his stuffed toys because this is totally a poop  that they can’t miss and hey! While I’m at it might as well as get more food before I run out!”

And the poop is all plopping and the dog is all crunching and this whole scenario gets more awkward then the breast milking lady because at least she was blocked by the stall door and you can’t really stop looking at your dog eating his food while you take a crap because it’s a small bathroom and when you look away he takes that as a Que to try and crawl into your lap.

But of course, this happened to my friend.

Because I don’t poop.

Accent Meme or Point & Laugh At My Voice

The Game of Life & How I Utterly Ruined It

Top Ten Reasons How I Ruined The Game of Life

1) When another player draws "Entertainer" as their career it is not considered Kosher to continually refer to the player as "Hooker", "Whore", and "Over priced Slut".

2) Whenever imagining the little people pegs talk they all have "Asian" accents.

3) To avoid having to pay any money in a lawsuit sell one of the children pegs from in my car.

4) Proclaiming "You dirty slut face" each time other player happens to get ahead.

5) When other player lands on "Pay for Family Physical" claim their family had to be "tested for STDs because their mom is a whore".

6) Refer to the other players vehicle as "The Whore Mobile"

7) Deciding that each time we play it's "Generational Rules" thus despite being a doctor other players person will still be referred to as "Dirty Whore" because it's in their blood.

8) Use the middle of the board game as a place to hold my dinner plate during the game.

9) Breaking the spinner.

10) Insisting on the most epic game of life ever by forcing our two peg people to marry each other only to realize halfway through the game our two peg people are, in fact, brother and sister because the female peg was the child my male pegs' parents sold to avoid a lawsuit thus ensuring that all the children in the car would be mutant flipper babies

A Dramatic Reading Of A Sexy Pirate Story 2

It's Friday? Why, yes, I think it is. And that means another Dramatic Reading of Pirates of Desire! Heck yeah, and this part starts to get steamy what with boobs, and nightgowns, and lady parts springing out into the open. Just HOT.

Please excuse that mess of hair because I literally just rolled out of bed and then filmed this because I'm that industrious and decided that I should do a Vlog instead of paying my rent right away. No one can say that I've got my priorities in order.

There is also a small part where you can hear Bowie squeaking on his damn fox and it's all "Squeak, squeak, squeak" like a douchebag and I have a moment that reminds me of being a teenager when you are all like "Ahhhhh, oh my god!" and roll your eyes as if someone had just done the worst thing in the world and greatly offended you. Which that dog does all damn day.