A Christian Girl (who goes by ANOTHER NAME in real life, namely my OLDEST brother....)
Mitchell seems like a really cool and hot guy. Why do people call him donkey? Is he your favorite brother? And would you save some adavan for he and you. to take on next vacation? I mean if he wants some....
Mitchell, why do you insist on leaving comments on my blog with ridiculous names? *sigh* Very well, I'll answer your question, as if it were from a REAL LIVE HUMAN.
My brother is a VERY cool guy. Hot? Dear God, I dunno, that's just ICKY. I would imagine people call him DONKEY because he is an ass. He is ONE of my favorite brothers. And HELL NAW, he ain't gettin' none of my ativan (you spelled it wrong, douchebag). Because he goes and tells Miss Katie that I gave it to him. Hi, Kate! Your hair looks lovely today!
NOW GO AWAY, annoying anonymous older brother....
Burfica (God love her, she ALWAYS comes through for me):
okay here is a question for you, how come you didn't go do my cuss o meter?????
Dammit!!!
And how come I don't get no lessie marriage kind of love.
FUCK!!!
Burfie, I DID go do your cuss-o-meter. And believe it or not, I didn't score as high as you. I bow to the queen of cursing, oh Burfeous One...
And I'm sorry I've not given you any marriage proposals... *down on one knee* Burfie, will you do me the honor?
Avitable:
1. Why the fuck am I not on your blogroll?
2. What do you recommend for getting semen out of hair and clothing?
3. What's the dirtiest thing you've ever done?
4. What made you decide to blog?
5. What are your feelings on ass to mouth?
1. You are not on my blogroll? I'll have to fix that... I'm sure it's just a mistake. You know, like how I'M NOT ON YOURS?
2. I recommend that you never get semen IN your hair or clothing. Barring that? I dunno, try peanut butter. It works on chewing gum, dude...
3. I'm not sure how to take this question. I can think of three separate ways to do dirty things. So, I'll answer them all a) I kicked over a chewing tobacco spit can at 5:00 a.m. one morning when I was 16 years old. I snuck up early to call my boyfriend, because I was grounded from the phone. As He usually does, God got me back my putting a spit can (which was FULL, oh GOD, WHY?) on the end of my foot. b) The rottenest thing I ever did, besides the Lisa incident, was when I was first married and I went through the drive thru at the bank to cash a 15 dollar check. The girl gave me 100 dollars, and I kept it. c) Sexually, I never really got to be a "dirty" girl. I married the first man I ever doinked.
4. I actually started blogging about 3 or 4 years ago. A friend I met online suggested I do it. He said I had a very descriptive way of writing, and also that I was crazy enough that I needed to get some things OUT of me. Several blogs, and lots of friends, heartaches, and laughter later, here I am...
5. As a general rule, I am vehemently opposed to mouths and asses joining in any manner. However, there are times when "ass kissers" serve their purpose...
Not a Granny:
Hmmm after Avitable's questions I am kind of frightened.
What is your favorite food?
What was/is your favorite vacation spot?
Avitable scares me too, man.
My favorite food... that would have to be NEARLY FUCKING EVERY FOOD. I am a lover of all things edible. But, in the interest of baring it all, here are some of my faves: Cheeseburgers, spaghetti, pizzza, lasagna, cheesecake, Little Debbie Nutty Bars, Twinkies! Cool Ranch Dorito's, turkey! with dressing! and bread and butter pickles.
My favorite vacation spot is My Brother's Big Giant Plantation Home. In Georgia. Because he has a pool in his backyard, he buys yummy food, he makes me laugh, and when I walk through his front door, all my worries and problems melt away and I am loved and pampered for the duration of my stay there. Besides his house, I would have to say the beach, any beach. I sooo love the giant gigantical-ness of the ocean. It puts things in quiet perspective for me. My problems ain't so big....
to be continued...
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
I got ALL the answers...
Here are some of your questions, and my brilliant, if not entirely lucid, answers. I'll try to get them all answered today, so if your question isn't here, check back later....
Miss Britt:
What do you want to be when you grow up?
For some reason, when I first read this question, the first thought that came to my head was "Oh I wish I were an Oscar Mayer weiner.... that is what I'd truly like to be... for if I were an Oscar Mayer weiner... everyone would be in love with me...."
But, since that's kind of a dumb answer, since I can't REALLY be an Oscar Mayer weiner, then I'm gonna go with my SECOND thought, which is a LESBIAN CRACK WHORE, which I think would be an interesting thing to be.
And if I have to give a SERIOUS answer, I will go with FREE. Free to do all the things I've wanted to do all my life, and never had the chance. Free financially, free emotionally, free in every single sense of the word. Free to be Miss Anne Derstood, in all her glorious glory.
Burfica:
Since you wanted to know mine, I want to know what your scariest dream ever was too.
The scariest dream I can remember having was when I was pregnant with Thing 2. For some reason, both times I was pregnant, I dreamed about one particular boy I'd had a crush on in high school. His name was Philip. Not long after we graduated, Philip was killed in a motorcycle accident. He was a great guy, and it was a sad waste that his life was ended so abruptly. When I dreamed about him during my first pregnancy, I remember it being a happy dream. But the dream with Thing 2, was NOT a happy dream. I dreamed we were in a car, and he was driving way too fast. I was asking him to slow down, begging him to pull over and let me drive, but he would only laugh, and go faster. He lost control of the car on this bridge and we ended up in the water. Somehow, and this could only happen in a dream, our car caught on fire. I knew that I was either going to burn to death, or drown, and I was terrified. I kept begging Philip to save me. I remember trying to hold my breath as the car filled with water and, incredibly, flames. He did though, he did save me. He smashed the window, God only knows how, but in a dream ANYTHING can happen, and he pulled me from the car. I was fighting him, and clawing through the water and the fire, knowing if I didn't get to breathe soon, I would die. Finally, Philip pushed me upwards and I woke up as my head broke free of the water, gasping for a good breath and with Philips words ringing through my head: "Why didn't you save ME?"
I haven't dreamed about him since...
Burfica, again:
What's the one thing you would change on the male anatomy?? Female??
Male:
I would put their brains inside their penis, since they apparently only think with that part of their anatomy anyway.
Female:
I wouldn't change a damn thing. We're perfect.
Baseball Mom:
What is your best childhood memory and why?
I've written about this before, I think, but it's been a long time, and possibly several blogs, ago.
When I was twelve years old, my mother let me stay home from school for my birthday. This was unheard of, because my mom made you go to school if you were dead. "Go," she'd say, "You'll feel better by first period."
So, I was excited to be able to stay home with her. She said we'd go out and have lunch. Again, unheard of, because my mom didn't like to drive, so much. She was a timid little thing, for the most part, and driving was just really, really hard for her. But she sucked it up and did it, because otherwise, we would have all had to stay home, all day, every day. My dad worked 24/7, seemed like.
Anyway, I was allowed to stay home, and we were going to lunch. It was all too perfect. I remember being so excited I was nearly sick. On the way out, Mom asked me, "Would you like to sneak and get your ears pierced today?" Sweet Crispy Jeebus, I thought my mom had gone 'round the bend. The thought was so enticing, so completely wonderful, that I could only stare at her in awe. OF COURSE I wanted to get my ears pierced!! I had only been begging for that very thing for a whole YEAR!! HECK YEAH!! What I said to her was in a whisper, I was so afraid to even HOPE it was for real. "Yes. Oh, yes."
Then, reality crashed down. "Mommy," I said to her. "I can't. Daddy said I can't get my ears pierced till I'm thirteen. We'd better not sneak. He'll be mad." I was crushed. But I had seen my dad angry too many times to flirt with disaster. I would not have my mom do something that would get her in killed. Oh, I knew he wouldn't KILL her, but if he'd slap her (and some of you know THAT story) seven times for buying a seven dollar steak, what might he do to her for having my ears pierced a year early?
"No. We can't. Lunch will be enough, mommy. And staying home from school. It's enough."
I wonder what my mom thought, when I said that to her. Was she sad, that I had seen so much, in so short a time, to make me afraid? Or was she angry, angry at my dad, and angry at fate, for putting her in a life where she made no decisions on her own, for fear of the wrath that might befall her?
At any rate, what she told me was this, with a little grin: "It's ok, honey. Daddy ok'd it this morning, as a surprise for you."
We went to get my ears pierced first, and I remember feeling like SUCH a lady, as we sat together and ate lunch. After lunch, mom took me to a movie, I don't even remember which one, but I remember that I had never been happier, sitting beside my mom in that movie theater, my belly full from lunch BOUGHT OUT, feeling grown up with my little topaz earrings (my birthstone, doncha know. The ugliest stone known to mankind).
It was the perfect day. And it was all for me. And she made it special, so that I would always have that memory.
to be continued...
Miss Britt:
What do you want to be when you grow up?
For some reason, when I first read this question, the first thought that came to my head was "Oh I wish I were an Oscar Mayer weiner.... that is what I'd truly like to be... for if I were an Oscar Mayer weiner... everyone would be in love with me...."
But, since that's kind of a dumb answer, since I can't REALLY be an Oscar Mayer weiner, then I'm gonna go with my SECOND thought, which is a LESBIAN CRACK WHORE, which I think would be an interesting thing to be.
And if I have to give a SERIOUS answer, I will go with FREE. Free to do all the things I've wanted to do all my life, and never had the chance. Free financially, free emotionally, free in every single sense of the word. Free to be Miss Anne Derstood, in all her glorious glory.
Burfica:
Since you wanted to know mine, I want to know what your scariest dream ever was too.
The scariest dream I can remember having was when I was pregnant with Thing 2. For some reason, both times I was pregnant, I dreamed about one particular boy I'd had a crush on in high school. His name was Philip. Not long after we graduated, Philip was killed in a motorcycle accident. He was a great guy, and it was a sad waste that his life was ended so abruptly. When I dreamed about him during my first pregnancy, I remember it being a happy dream. But the dream with Thing 2, was NOT a happy dream. I dreamed we were in a car, and he was driving way too fast. I was asking him to slow down, begging him to pull over and let me drive, but he would only laugh, and go faster. He lost control of the car on this bridge and we ended up in the water. Somehow, and this could only happen in a dream, our car caught on fire. I knew that I was either going to burn to death, or drown, and I was terrified. I kept begging Philip to save me. I remember trying to hold my breath as the car filled with water and, incredibly, flames. He did though, he did save me. He smashed the window, God only knows how, but in a dream ANYTHING can happen, and he pulled me from the car. I was fighting him, and clawing through the water and the fire, knowing if I didn't get to breathe soon, I would die. Finally, Philip pushed me upwards and I woke up as my head broke free of the water, gasping for a good breath and with Philips words ringing through my head: "Why didn't you save ME?"
I haven't dreamed about him since...
Burfica, again:
What's the one thing you would change on the male anatomy?? Female??
Male:
I would put their brains inside their penis, since they apparently only think with that part of their anatomy anyway.
Female:
I wouldn't change a damn thing. We're perfect.
Baseball Mom:
What is your best childhood memory and why?
I've written about this before, I think, but it's been a long time, and possibly several blogs, ago.
When I was twelve years old, my mother let me stay home from school for my birthday. This was unheard of, because my mom made you go to school if you were dead. "Go," she'd say, "You'll feel better by first period."
So, I was excited to be able to stay home with her. She said we'd go out and have lunch. Again, unheard of, because my mom didn't like to drive, so much. She was a timid little thing, for the most part, and driving was just really, really hard for her. But she sucked it up and did it, because otherwise, we would have all had to stay home, all day, every day. My dad worked 24/7, seemed like.
Anyway, I was allowed to stay home, and we were going to lunch. It was all too perfect. I remember being so excited I was nearly sick. On the way out, Mom asked me, "Would you like to sneak and get your ears pierced today?" Sweet Crispy Jeebus, I thought my mom had gone 'round the bend. The thought was so enticing, so completely wonderful, that I could only stare at her in awe. OF COURSE I wanted to get my ears pierced!! I had only been begging for that very thing for a whole YEAR!! HECK YEAH!! What I said to her was in a whisper, I was so afraid to even HOPE it was for real. "Yes. Oh, yes."
Then, reality crashed down. "Mommy," I said to her. "I can't. Daddy said I can't get my ears pierced till I'm thirteen. We'd better not sneak. He'll be mad." I was crushed. But I had seen my dad angry too many times to flirt with disaster. I would not have my mom do something that would get her in killed. Oh, I knew he wouldn't KILL her, but if he'd slap her (and some of you know THAT story) seven times for buying a seven dollar steak, what might he do to her for having my ears pierced a year early?
"No. We can't. Lunch will be enough, mommy. And staying home from school. It's enough."
I wonder what my mom thought, when I said that to her. Was she sad, that I had seen so much, in so short a time, to make me afraid? Or was she angry, angry at my dad, and angry at fate, for putting her in a life where she made no decisions on her own, for fear of the wrath that might befall her?
At any rate, what she told me was this, with a little grin: "It's ok, honey. Daddy ok'd it this morning, as a surprise for you."
We went to get my ears pierced first, and I remember feeling like SUCH a lady, as we sat together and ate lunch. After lunch, mom took me to a movie, I don't even remember which one, but I remember that I had never been happier, sitting beside my mom in that movie theater, my belly full from lunch BOUGHT OUT, feeling grown up with my little topaz earrings (my birthstone, doncha know. The ugliest stone known to mankind).
It was the perfect day. And it was all for me. And she made it special, so that I would always have that memory.
to be continued...
Monday, April 7, 2008
Color Me.... In Court
So, kids, today I have to go to Bankruptcy Court. Oh not for me, more's the pity, but with my boss and a client. At any rate, I won't be able to answer the questions that SOME of you have asked, until tonight, probably.
In the meantime, comment moderation has been turned off. Feel free to ask me questions. Really. Ask me some FUCKING questions, whydoncha? What do I have to do, BEG, already?
Please, internets, surely there is something about me you'd like to know? Stroke my ego a little, for it is bruised.....
And also? Because if you don't, I'll probably grit my teeth. And stamp my feet. And throw one of those temper tantrum things. Although, with my sweet and sunny disposition, it will be hard for me. But heck, I could learn. My middle name is "I am an accomplished learner of things..."
In the meantime, comment moderation has been turned off. Feel free to ask me questions. Really. Ask me some FUCKING questions, whydoncha? What do I have to do, BEG, already?
Please, internets, surely there is something about me you'd like to know? Stroke my ego a little, for it is bruised.....
And also? Because if you don't, I'll probably grit my teeth. And stamp my feet. And throw one of those temper tantrum things. Although, with my sweet and sunny disposition, it will be hard for me. But heck, I could learn. My middle name is "I am an accomplished learner of things..."
Friday, April 4, 2008
Jesus, take the wheel.... I'll take the floor for a moment...
****UPDATE*****
I have enabled comment moderation... I'm really sorry to do that, but I thought I'd made myself clear when I said NO MORE FUCKING DRAMA ON MY BLOG. Those of you who love me? Won't mind for a few days, right? Anyone who does care? Whoop-tee-doo, take it up on your OWN fucking blog. Thank you, the end....
Hooray for me FINALLY having a brand spankin' new moniker. About time, I think....
The winning entry was provided by Miss Janet, but I've decided to reward Miss Ammie and This Mom for coming up with some very good names also. I'd reward you, Miss Katie, but you doesn't has a blog. And plus, you married my brother, so that's your reward. HAHAHAHA
Check back here for some blog bling I dedicate to my three terrific winners... I'm still sick, but I'll be workin' on it this weekend.
________________________________
I'd just like to mention ONE LITTLE TINY THING, before I tumble my fat ass back into bed with my babies. (and by babies, I mean dogs, Cleo and Shelby)
I had some drama on my blog last night. I'm not going to point it out, because, quite frankly, I'm getting fucking TIRED of the drama... So I will say this:
To those of you who came here and commented, for ONE particular reason, and ONE reason only? Dude, that sucks.
Do you have any idea how it felt to open my email last night, get all excited and happy because some FABULOUS bloggers deigned to come to my blog and leave a comment?
And do you then have any idea how it felt to realize that they came, not to read what *I* had to say, or to compliment or congratulate me on a good post, or a funny thought, or even an idea that we might disagree on?
No, you came here to sling more shit. The fact that you apologized to me AFTER you slung the poo, was that supposed to make me feel better? I took it like this:
"Hello insignificant blogger. I'm here NOT to read anything YOU wrote, but to stir some shit. You stumbled into some high drama, and so I'm going to have a little fun, and then I'll pretend to feel bad about flicking shit about the walls of your blog when I'm done."
This is MY blog. I write here. I pour out my heart and my ideas, the things that make me laugh, the things that piss me off beyond reason, I bitch and I moan and I piss and yell. But I'm not mean to anybody. And most of the people here know me, from my OTHER blog, and they KNOW I'm not mean to anyone. And they are not mean either.
Yes, it was momentarily exciting to have you here, in this place that means so very much to me. But you fouled it with your venom, and I will kindly ask you not to do it again.
I'm not involved in that drama. I WON'T be involved in it. And I most respectfully resent you using my blog as a platform for your "Vigilante Blog Justice".
I LOVE getting comments. I LOVE being noticed by the "big boys". But if the only reason you come to my blog, or "follow" me on Twitter is to keep the pot boiling? I'd like to go back to being "insignificant blogger" please.
_______________________________
The end.
I have enabled comment moderation... I'm really sorry to do that, but I thought I'd made myself clear when I said NO MORE FUCKING DRAMA ON MY BLOG. Those of you who love me? Won't mind for a few days, right? Anyone who does care? Whoop-tee-doo, take it up on your OWN fucking blog. Thank you, the end....
Hooray for me FINALLY having a brand spankin' new moniker. About time, I think....
The winning entry was provided by Miss Janet, but I've decided to reward Miss Ammie and This Mom for coming up with some very good names also. I'd reward you, Miss Katie, but you doesn't has a blog. And plus, you married my brother, so that's your reward. HAHAHAHA
Check back here for some blog bling I dedicate to my three terrific winners... I'm still sick, but I'll be workin' on it this weekend.
________________________________
I'd just like to mention ONE LITTLE TINY THING, before I tumble my fat ass back into bed with my babies. (and by babies, I mean dogs, Cleo and Shelby)
I had some drama on my blog last night. I'm not going to point it out, because, quite frankly, I'm getting fucking TIRED of the drama... So I will say this:
To those of you who came here and commented, for ONE particular reason, and ONE reason only? Dude, that sucks.
Do you have any idea how it felt to open my email last night, get all excited and happy because some FABULOUS bloggers deigned to come to my blog and leave a comment?
And do you then have any idea how it felt to realize that they came, not to read what *I* had to say, or to compliment or congratulate me on a good post, or a funny thought, or even an idea that we might disagree on?
No, you came here to sling more shit. The fact that you apologized to me AFTER you slung the poo, was that supposed to make me feel better? I took it like this:
"Hello insignificant blogger. I'm here NOT to read anything YOU wrote, but to stir some shit. You stumbled into some high drama, and so I'm going to have a little fun, and then I'll pretend to feel bad about flicking shit about the walls of your blog when I'm done."
This is MY blog. I write here. I pour out my heart and my ideas, the things that make me laugh, the things that piss me off beyond reason, I bitch and I moan and I piss and yell. But I'm not mean to anybody. And most of the people here know me, from my OTHER blog, and they KNOW I'm not mean to anyone. And they are not mean either.
Yes, it was momentarily exciting to have you here, in this place that means so very much to me. But you fouled it with your venom, and I will kindly ask you not to do it again.
I'm not involved in that drama. I WON'T be involved in it. And I most respectfully resent you using my blog as a platform for your "Vigilante Blog Justice".
I LOVE getting comments. I LOVE being noticed by the "big boys". But if the only reason you come to my blog, or "follow" me on Twitter is to keep the pot boiling? I'd like to go back to being "insignificant blogger" please.
_______________________________
The end.
Thursday, April 3, 2008
If you wanna know what *I* think... and who wouldn't?
My brain is a jumbled mass of complete craziness this morning. This is probably due to the fact that I have decided to give up sex COMPLETELY to achieve a higher plane of existence. I haven't sprung that one on my HUSBAND yet, but how can he help but agree? I mean, c'mon, a HIGHER PLANE of existence? Whoda fuck wouldn't want that?
____________________________________
Go, forthwith and herefore, (my middle name is "I can speak all lawyer-ish on account of I work for an ATTORNEY, for Piss sakes") and read this post from Miss Britt. That girl is not only perky and CUTE, she's SMAWRT 2. I love her. I'm going to ask her to marry me later. Cross your fingers for me.
____________________________________
Also? Head on over to Lisa's blog, because she is also beautiful and needs prayers and love and support. I would ask her to marry me, too, but POLYGAMY is just WRONG, people.
____________________________________
And for Pete's sake go over to Janet's blog and send love and warm huggie-wishes to Roo Girl, who broke her arm Tuesday night. And on the EVE of high school cheer tryouts!! Oh God, the unfairness of it all...
____________________________________
I was quite the popular girlie on Twitter last night. Whoda thunk it? I bet it's a case of mistaken identity and everyone thinks they are following that OTHER Miss Ann Thrope. Fuck, I gotta get a new name, and SOON!!
____________________________________
Speaking of that OTHER Miss Ann, she is doing quite the amazing thing for Lisa. I'm impressed all over the place. I'd ask her to marry me, too, but I'm a little afraid of her. And, probably, Annie would call me an IDIOT again, and I'd have to run over her with my car.
____________________________________
Here's a FUNNY THING from Sunday:
So, Thing 1 drove us all to Sam's Club. We don't often go anywhere all at one time, because there is usually much wailing and gnashing of teeth. Sunday was no different.
Husband informed Thing 1 that she very nearly took out part of the guardrail in the Wal-Mart/Almost Sam's Club parking lot, and Thing 1's mood plummeted to the bowels of Hell.
Thing 2 couldn't understand why she couldn't get the $160.00 weight bench, if Thing 1 was getting a "shit-load" of groceries to take back to college.
Husband remarked that he "didn't HAVE 8 bucks to buy you a damn bucket of flowers", simply because I said they were pretty. Fucker.
Thing 2 informed Thing 1 that she was, indeed, a hateful bitch.
Thing 1 allowed as how she hated the "entire cock-sucking, motherfucking world."
Thing 2 pointed out to Thing 1, that she very nearly was crashed into by a WILD AND CRAZY PARKING LOT DRIVER. "But," says Thing 2, "it wouldn't have been your fault."
I responded that THAT was really the whole point. "I think," says I, "That quite possibly we could have even had it written on all our tombstones... HERE LIES ANOTHER DEAD FAMILY. IT WASN'T THING 1'S FAULT."
I chuckled quietly to myself that I am incredibly witty.
I pouted that no one else seemed to agree.....
_______________________________________
In other news, I AM NOT GETTING ENOUGH FUCKING QUESTIONS TO ANSWER. This must be rectified, post haste. (that means right the fuck NOW, in case you don't speak italic.)
I'll post answers to the pitiful few I've received thus far tomorrow.
______________________________________
Voting ends tonight for the "REname Miss Ann Contest-a-palooza!" Please keep those votes coming. You guys are jacking up my stats quite nicely. I'm almost POPULAR!!
____________________________________
Go, forthwith and herefore, (my middle name is "I can speak all lawyer-ish on account of I work for an ATTORNEY, for Piss sakes") and read this post from Miss Britt. That girl is not only perky and CUTE, she's SMAWRT 2. I love her. I'm going to ask her to marry me later. Cross your fingers for me.
____________________________________
Also? Head on over to Lisa's blog, because she is also beautiful and needs prayers and love and support. I would ask her to marry me, too, but POLYGAMY is just WRONG, people.
____________________________________
And for Pete's sake go over to Janet's blog and send love and warm huggie-wishes to Roo Girl, who broke her arm Tuesday night. And on the EVE of high school cheer tryouts!! Oh God, the unfairness of it all...
____________________________________
I was quite the popular girlie on Twitter last night. Whoda thunk it? I bet it's a case of mistaken identity and everyone thinks they are following that OTHER Miss Ann Thrope. Fuck, I gotta get a new name, and SOON!!
____________________________________
Speaking of that OTHER Miss Ann, she is doing quite the amazing thing for Lisa. I'm impressed all over the place. I'd ask her to marry me, too, but I'm a little afraid of her. And, probably, Annie would call me an IDIOT again, and I'd have to run over her with my car.
____________________________________
Here's a FUNNY THING from Sunday:
So, Thing 1 drove us all to Sam's Club. We don't often go anywhere all at one time, because there is usually much wailing and gnashing of teeth. Sunday was no different.
Husband informed Thing 1 that she very nearly took out part of the guardrail in the Wal-Mart/Almost Sam's Club parking lot, and Thing 1's mood plummeted to the bowels of Hell.
Thing 2 couldn't understand why she couldn't get the $160.00 weight bench, if Thing 1 was getting a "shit-load" of groceries to take back to college.
Husband remarked that he "didn't HAVE 8 bucks to buy you a damn bucket of flowers", simply because I said they were pretty. Fucker.
Thing 2 informed Thing 1 that she was, indeed, a hateful bitch.
Thing 1 allowed as how she hated the "entire cock-sucking, motherfucking world."
Thing 2 pointed out to Thing 1, that she very nearly was crashed into by a WILD AND CRAZY PARKING LOT DRIVER. "But," says Thing 2, "it wouldn't have been your fault."
I responded that THAT was really the whole point. "I think," says I, "That quite possibly we could have even had it written on all our tombstones... HERE LIES ANOTHER DEAD FAMILY. IT WASN'T THING 1'S FAULT."
I chuckled quietly to myself that I am incredibly witty.
I pouted that no one else seemed to agree.....
_______________________________________
In other news, I AM NOT GETTING ENOUGH FUCKING QUESTIONS TO ANSWER. This must be rectified, post haste. (that means right the fuck NOW, in case you don't speak italic.)
I'll post answers to the pitiful few I've received thus far tomorrow.
______________________________________
Voting ends tonight for the "REname Miss Ann Contest-a-palooza!" Please keep those votes coming. You guys are jacking up my stats quite nicely. I'm almost POPULAR!!
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Not so good at sick, thank you very much...
Yesterday, I took a sick day from work. Because I felt like shit. Thank you, Thing 1, for the gift of sore throat, headache, and that enigmatic "my nose is running like a sugar tree, but I STILL can't breathe out of it... or smell... or TASTE anything."
Really. You're way too good to me.
Then I got all jacked up on Chloraseptic throat spray, and cleaned house. Except for the kitchen. My kitchen is not right with God. It is the place where "Angels Fear to Tread." And humans too.
So, today it's back to work for me, even though this cold is STILL kicking my fat ass and I STILL don't feel like getting up out of bed. Because if I don't get some work done, I'm going to be fired, no matter how many lovely lunches I cook for my boss.
And since I am going to be busy all day with Social Security, Wills, Bankruptcies (oh God help me, Jesus, I hate bankruptcies) Estates, and the like, I'm taking the time this morning to REMIND you that the voting for my new name is still open until Thursday night, sometime. Please go vote. I'm already tired of being Miss Ann Thrope.... No offense to you, Original Version.
Also? Since you were wonderful sports during my Celebrity Interview phase, how can I do anything but ask YOU to interview ME now? C'mon, already, you showed me yours... Let me show you mine...
Here are my rules though:
1. I will answer any question, no matter how ridiculous, and answer it with complete honesty.
2. Unless, you ask me anything that would reveal my real name, or those of my girls.
3. The End.
I LOVE answering questions, because I am an exhibitionist and a whore. Erm, I mean a BLOGwhore. So, get ready, get set, GO! Hit me with your best shot....
Really. You're way too good to me.
Then I got all jacked up on Chloraseptic throat spray, and cleaned house. Except for the kitchen. My kitchen is not right with God. It is the place where "Angels Fear to Tread." And humans too.
So, today it's back to work for me, even though this cold is STILL kicking my fat ass and I STILL don't feel like getting up out of bed. Because if I don't get some work done, I'm going to be fired, no matter how many lovely lunches I cook for my boss.
And since I am going to be busy all day with Social Security, Wills, Bankruptcies (oh God help me, Jesus, I hate bankruptcies) Estates, and the like, I'm taking the time this morning to REMIND you that the voting for my new name is still open until Thursday night, sometime. Please go vote. I'm already tired of being Miss Ann Thrope.... No offense to you, Original Version.
Also? Since you were wonderful sports during my Celebrity Interview phase, how can I do anything but ask YOU to interview ME now? C'mon, already, you showed me yours... Let me show you mine...
Here are my rules though:
1. I will answer any question, no matter how ridiculous, and answer it with complete honesty.
2. Unless, you ask me anything that would reveal my real name, or those of my girls.
3. The End.
I LOVE answering questions, because I am an exhibitionist and a whore. Erm, I mean a BLOGwhore. So, get ready, get set, GO! Hit me with your best shot....
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
