Worst hangover in months…

Yesterday, I went to a local Irish festival with my mom, stepdad, and their friends.  My uncle and cousin were there too.  I had a good time, the music was quite good.  I had about 5 hard ciders with little to eat.  After the festival, I went to my mom’s friends house for a barbacue.  They lit their fire pit, even though it was hot as fuck, and we drank lots of homemade wine.

And today I have paid for it dearly.  I also made these Pilsbury cinnamon rolls and ate them all.  This always happens when I’m hungover.  Can you say oink oink?.

A few things happened at the festival:

1. I got choked up when the bagpipers were playing.  Why?  I have no idea.  It just got to me.
2. I saw 2 old friends I haven’t seen in years.  It’s nice to run into old friends.
3. While I was going around to the different vendors, a teenage girl was staring at me like I was some kind of freak.  I frowned at her and she blurted out, “You have golden eyes.”  I said, “Yes, I do.”  She then looked around and whispered, “You’re not a vampire, are you?”  I wasn’t drunk yet, if that’s what you’re thinking.  I rolled my eyes and asked her if she liked the Twilight books and she giggled.  I informed her that they weren’t for real.  She said, “I know that.”  So I asked her, “Why the fuck did you ask me if I was a vampire?”  Ugh.  I can’t stand retarded people.  Not real mentally challenged people, my heart goes out to them.  I’m talking about normal people who don’t think.  Especially, know it all retarded teenagers.  Am I a vampire?  What the fuck!  And why do these idiots always come up to me?
4. I used a port-a-potty three times without gagging.

Oh, and I’m loving the new HBO series True Blood.  I bought all of the books in the series that inspired the series and I really loved those too.  Maybe I am a vampire, though I’d rather be a ninja.

Vampire eye…really?

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Oh, I love the gas

So now, for some reason, about 2 miles into my run I start farting.  Uncontrollable, loud, forceful farts.  It’s embarrassing.  It doesn’t matter what time of day I run or what I’ve eaten, the gas is there.

And that’s all I have to write about.  I had a gloriously boring weekend.

Two made up words I heard this weekend:  romantical as in “he was very romantical” and tooken as in “he was tooken to the hospital”.  Nice.

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And so it goes around again…

This weekend was one of the busiest and stressful I’ve had in a long time.  My sister and little Colin stayed with me Friday and Saturday nights.  We had my aunt’s memorial yesterday.  I did the eulogy.  It was so emotional, my knees were knocking.

After, my grandmother had people at her house and that’s where the crazies started their shit.  My family is nuts.  I don’t feel like getting into it, because this post would be as long as a book, but let’s just say that it was a contest between my fucked up aunt and grandmother over who could act like the bigger ass.  Instead of the day being about my aunt, it was about them.  How rude!!!  And the worst part was that my fucked up aunt acted like she was so very close to her sister, when the real story was that she never even called my aunt in years.

Today, I got some interesting news about my younger sisters.  Let’s see…remember when my sister had open heart surgery to repair her mitral valve after it was eaten away from a staph infection caused by using dirty needles.  Remember that?  Well, after everything she went through she’s back to doing heroine and crack.  It’s fucking amazing, isn’t it?

And it gets better…

My other sister, the crackhead’s twin, is also doing drugs.  She’s the one who just had the baby.  You know, the baby born with a methadone addiction.  The baby is still in the hospital and my dad has told me that my sister, the mother, has hardly been up at the hospital to take care of the baby.  That’s right, she goes up every other day for about a half hour.  Or she doesn’t go at all for a whole week.  The nurses are taking care of the baby.  The father hasn’t seen the baby since she was born, even though he and my sister are still together and live with each other.  Oh, and child protective services was called by the hospital because of all of this.  The father has also been arrested twice in the past month and he smokes crack.  My dad is filing papers this week to gain temporary custody of the baby so that when she gets out of the hospital she will be taken care of.

This is where it gets sticky.  My dad works two jobs and can’t really take care of a baby.  So, the only other option is that I take the baby.  This is a bit scary.  But, if my sister can’t get her shit together in the next two months it might be the only thing to do.  I hope it doesn’t come down to this, I really want my sister to shape up but I live in reality.  My sisters has been drug addicts for years and I’ve starting to seriously give up hope.

I’ve tried to visit the baby 8 times, but no one can be in her room when her parents aren’t there.  It’s beyond frustrating.  The baby is an innocent and should be loved, not abandoned.

I have a headache.  I don’t know how much more of this I can take.  It’s exhausting and I wish I didn’t care as much as I do.

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Escape!

I drive by a hospital on my way home from work every day. The hospital is about 5 minutes from my house.

So, today I was stopped at a red light and I looked over to my left. There was a man, barefoot in a hospital gown, running across the street. He flashed by, bare ass swinging in the breeze. He stopped traffic. Literally.

Nobody was running after him, which I think is kind of weirder than him running around like an escaped lunatic. Maybe he was. It was one of the most surreal moments I can remember witnessing.

So, what do you all think he was running from? Get creative and leave your theory in the comments.

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It’s always something…tales from A.C.

I woke up yesterday morning and blew my nose for about an hour. Then got ready for the Food & Wine Festival in Atlantic City.

So, I knew it was going to be a special day when my friend (one of the most annoying people I’ve ever met…yeah I inherited her, it’s a long story) called me repeatedly to ask me when I was leaving. Cause she wanted to leave from a different train station than the one originally picked. She made this decision about 15 minutes before we were all supposed to meet.

For crying out loud.

I got to my friend E’s house and we had a bitch session about M (the annoying friend). You see, this whole trip was her idea. So, we felt that she was the one that should make the plans. That’s how I roll, people.

We meet up and are off to Cherry Hill to catch the train to A.C. There were supposed to be 10 of us going, but I noticed that two of us, A and J, weren’t at the train station. We got to the next station stop and see them board the train. Apparently, they didn’t get the message we were meeting at a different station. J started bitching M out, called her a ‘dit dit dah‘, and she said, “It wasn’t my idea to change stations.” We all looked at her like she’s a fucking nut.

It was totally her idea to change train stations.

We haven’t even gotten to A.C. yet.

The festival was being held at the A.C. Convention Center, which is right next to the train stations, so it was little drama getting to the show. I grab a couple of bags and go to the first table to taste some wine.

I notice that the rest of my friends are standing around arguing, erm, discussing which way they were going. I couldn’t deal with this, so I just went off on my own. And I had a great time.

I hit the beer aisle and sample away. By the time I get to where they’re hand rolling cigars, I’m a bit tipsy. I bought two cigars and decide to hit the food tables to soak up some of the beer I just drank. As I walk over to that part of the room, I see my friends.

I start hanging out with them around the vodka and other assorted liquors aisle. By the time I made my way over to the wine tasting, I was quite buzzed. I did buy a loaf of foccacia bread to eat and it helped.

I bought some organic chai tea, garlic oil, a bottle of cabernet franc, a bottle of pomegranate vodka, some interesting salsa, and pair of socks with martinis on them (I’m a dork).

My feet were killing me. I was wearing boots with 2 1/2 inch heels and didn’t think that would be a problem, but I hadn’t realized I would be on my feet for 4-5 hours. As we were leaving the festival to go to dinner, I decided I couldn’t take it anymore. I took my boots off and walked to the restaurant in my socks. Yes, through the streets of A.C. in my socks.

We got to the restaurant at the Continental at the Ocean One Mall on the boardwalk. Dinner was okay, I’ve had so much better. I’m not a huge fan of Steven Starr restaurants (he’s huge in Philly). I got a salad and a martini.

Now, I’m not cheapskate but when I go out to dinner I’m not big on splitting the bill if some people have went overboard. I just find that those most eager to split the bill are those who order the most expensive things. I’m cool with ordering expensive shit, just pay more.

Well, that’s what happened last night. I was more interested in spending my money at the festival, not on dinner. I would have been happy at a diner. I looked at my friend M and her boyfriend, and told them I was paying for my shit and that’s it. I threw the money down on the table and said I was going to walk around the mall.

This isn’t an ordinary mall. It has stores like Louis Vuitton, Coach, Burberry, Juicy Couture, and Kenneth Cole. I walked into Kenneth Cole because a particular pair of boots were screaming my name. Yeah, I could hear them as I was walking by. I ask if they have a brown pair in my size. I also see a pair of snake skin ballet flats on sale. I ask to try them on too.

The flats are adorable. I’m sold. I put on the boots next and I fall in love. Just as I stand up, A walks out of the dressing room and she agrees that they are gorgeous. The salesman then tells me if I buy both pairs of shoes, he’ll take 30% off the bill. Fucking sold, I say.

So, yeah I spent $300 on two pairs of shoes. But the leather on the boots is like butter. They are absolutely stunning. I feel a little guilty about the purchase, especially since Christmas is coming, but I think I will get over my guilt easily.

I wear the flats out of the store, as I still had my boots off from before. We’re all ready to leave and we start walking to the train station. My left foot is a little bigger than my right and the shoe is starting to really dig into my skin. About a block later, I feel like razors have sliced the skin on my left foot. I know it’s bleeding and I take the shoe off. And the sock. And walk barefoot. My little and big toes are mangled.

And that, my friends, should have been the end. Except E seemed to have way too much to drink and barfed on the train. Thankfully, my nose is still stuffed up so I couldn’t smell it. She had a bag, so no mess. We’re a prepared group.

I got home and soaked my foot in an Epsom salt bath. The blisters are still oozing this morning.

I also feel like a train hit me today. I’m not hung over. My cold is killing me. I’m coughing a lung up and blowing my nose every five seconds. My lips and nose is chapped. I could sleep for a week.

I came home to find out that Mullet Man was again on the property and the police were called. I’m so glad I wasn’t home.

I also got a DVR. Um, I am deeply in love with this already. I can record my “Namaste Yoga” program so that I can do it in the morning. I can record shows I want to watch and don’t have to worry about being able to stay up to watch them (sad sad sad). This is fucking awesome.

Okay, I’m going. I’m not feeling that great and want to cuddle down on my couch.

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It’s all good

I went to my niece’s play last night. She’s 7 years old. She loves being in these shows, so I was excited to see her do her thing. She was in the opening number and it was adorable. So, a few more songs were sung and they were going to the next scene when I smelled something burning.

I turned to my stepdad and asked him if he smelled it. He said yeah. So, we figured someone was smoking outside and threw a cigarette in a trashcan. But, the smell was getting more intense and was coming from the stage. My stepbrother, a cop, got up to check things out and we heard doors opening and rustling. Then we heard a kid start coughing really bad.

The fire alarm went off and we proceeded out the exits. It’s amazing to see how people will run out of the place in front of the handicapped and old. I helped a woman in a walker. There were others helping out. They opened the curtain and the amount of smoke that was behind there was unbelievable. I got out of the building and found everyone. Of course, the play was canceled. Morgan was a little upset. She saw the fire and was a little nervous.

Nobody was really hurt, the coughing was from the fire extinguisher. It was kind of a bummer. I really wanted to see the little miss do her thang.

Now, it’s time for some absolutely classic Debbie retardedness. Sit down and enjoy. Maybe you should get a beer or a cup of tea.

1. I was dropping something off at a friend’s house the other day and she had one of her friends there. I’m not really crazy about this woman, but she’s not my friend so who cares. I was asked to stay for a drink, and I did. My friend’s friend was clearly upset about something. She looked like she was crying. I asked if I was interrupting anything and they say no. My friend’s friend took a deep breath and said that she had an accident on Saturday. I thought she had a car accident or something, so I started to give some kind words when she blurted out, “I peed my pants in front of my boyfriend.” Now, I’m someone who knows something about peeing pants. I’ve even pooped my pants. Like, last year. So, I told her that. She started laughing really hard and suddenly we were fast friends. Groovy, I know.
2. Monday morning my boobs were hurting me. I was PMS’ing and they were so fucking sore. I decided to rub them to ease up the pain a bit. Oh, did I tell you I was at work? No, well I was. It’s was about 7:05 AM and nobody were there yet. Or so I thought. I’m in mid-rub ecstasy when one of my cubicle neighbors turns the corner. He looked at me quickly and then looked away. He’s a family man, kind of square, so I’m pretty sure he was thinking, “Look at this nut feeling herself up.”
3. Today, I was wearing a very pretty blue dress. I remembered perfume and everything. So, I was drinking my coffee and I tipped back to drink the last bits and I spilled it down the front of me. I think I have a hole in my chin because I do this often. Anyhow, I smelled like perfumed coffee all day. Fucking gross.
4. I went to a Quizzo happy hour my company held on Tuesday. It was sort of fun. The thing I hate about these happy hours is that the whole company is invited to these things, but one department seems to be so fucking impressed with themselves that they make the thing about them. My department always seems like the red-headed stepchild of the company, yet we’re the money makers. Anyhow, I can’t stand people at my company. Fucking bitches. Even the men.
5. I went for a run the other night. As I really got into it and am at a great pace, I felt a booger. I ignored it, or tried to, and kept going. But, it was getting really annoying and I couldn’t concentrate on anything but the booger. After a few more minutes of the booger tickling my nose, I did something I haven’t done since I was a child….I picked my nose. Not only do I pick the booger out, but I flicked the booger off my finger. I was outside, so it’s okay. I can’t believe I picked my nose. Ew.
6. I went into the ladies room at work and there was a big turd in the stall I walked into. For some reason, I’m like the all-time jackpot winner when it comes to picking the stall that someone left shit in or just shit the smelliest poo ever in. It’s a gift, I know you’re jealous. This poo was different than any I’d ever seen. It was orange. But not like a brownish orange, but this orange. Yeah, I know. Who has orange shit? I sometimes have a red shit, because I eat a lot of beets, but it’s never orange. I suppose I have a new mystery to solve. It’s always about poo.
7. My neighbor is moving my trash can’s again. It’s so fucking annoying. And I think that Inbred Nephew is in jail. I haven’t seen him in months and he’s usually here all summer. It’s the only thing I can think of. I know, as of May, he had lost his license because of several DUIs. So classy, I know.
8. My sister’s husband fucked their brand new computer. He downloaded some porn and got a serious virus, but he’s so computer illiterate that instead of running Norton’s he just ignored it and turned the computer off. Nice, huh?
9. The other night, I sat on my porch and practiced my Woody Woodpecker laugh and now I’m a pro. Don’t ask me why I was doing this. I get bored and this kind of brilliance comes to me. I like to do the laugh in my kitchen cause it kind of echos. I know I’m cooler than you, deal with it.
10. I’ve been thinking and have come to the conclusion that I would let Ed Norton fuck me in the ass on the first date. He wouldn’t even have to buy me dinner. A drink would suffice. I’m a dirty whore, who the fuck cares you judgmental bastards. You know you’d do it too.

And that’s all folks.

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No radio show tonight

Well, I know you’re all heartbroken…erm the 2 people that listen to the show anyway. I had to cancel the show because I totally forgot that my niece, the little Miss Morgan la fey, is in a play tonight and that is more important than me talking rubbish for an hour. She is an orphan in the muscial Annie and I can’t freaking wait to see her in it. She’s a star.

I’m really tired this week. I have so much stuff going on and lots to tell you all, but time is not on my side. I promise to post a good post tomorrow night. Things you can look forward to reading about are:

• peeing ones pants
• my boobies
• Quizzo and how I get irritated at company happy hours
• boogers
• orange poo
• neighbors
• porn and computer viruses
• how I’ve perfected my ‘Woody Woodpecker’ laugh
• and much more

Oh, my life is so much fun.

If you really need to hear my voice, and you know you do you sexy bitch, then go listen to my archives. They’re super cool.

Kisses, my bitches.

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We carry men’s thongs!

Day two of kitty in the bathroom vs. Stella Marie was stressful. Holy fucking shit, my cat is pissed. She’s been hissing and growling and attacking me. We’ve come to a peaceful agreement, I won’t touch her and she won’t hiss at me. I’m hoping this only lasts a little longer and I have my sweetheart back. Roslin remains clueless and cute.

I went to a fun place today called Cowtown. It’s basically a flea market. It’s a place where white trash and ghetto threw up and smeared itself together. Like the Jerry Springer mall. It’s fucking awesome.

We get there and all I want is some veggies. Many of the local farmers have stands there selling their delicious goodies. I got Jersey tomatoes and some fresh peaches, one of which I devoured immediately and it was gorgeous.

I wanted to go into the porn stall, 3 movies for $10…yippee. I’m not a huge porn fan, I just like to see what’s out there and maybe find something hot. But, all of the movies looked like white trash and ghetto threw up and smeared itself together. Um, no.

In addition to selling all assorted types of shit, they also sell lingerie at this place. It’s really trashy, but again…awesome. So, I was walking by one of the little stalls selling especially trashy lingerie (I almost bought the most obnoxious cone bra there, but alas they didn’t have my size…damn my huge boobs) and I saw the greatest sign ever written.

There on the mannequin written in black marker on a fluorescent yellow sign was, “We carry men’s thongs!”

Thank god someone does.

I’m so happy that they felt the need to reassure potential customers about this. The mannequin was wearing a red tarty looking outfit, nipple-less and crotchless and riddled with lace and rhinestones. I wonder if they had a matching pair to this red outfit. I’d be over the moon about that.

I would have taken a picture, but I left my cell phone at my mother’s house because I’m an idiot and forgetful and a mess.

In other news, I want to say thank you to the guy who emailed me video of his girlfriend giving him head with a request for me to critique her technique because, when you come right down to it, I just don’t get irritated enough.

Eh, really? Does she even know you sent a private video of her performing on you? She had better know. So, if you’re the guy who sent it and you’re reading this…go tell her. I’ll wait.

Toe tapping.

Checking nails.

Toe tapping.

Does she know? Good. Now, I’ll give you my critique.

MAYBE SHE’D GIVE YOU A BETTER BLOWJOB IF YOU TOOK YOUR FUCKING HAND OUT OF HER HAIR AND STOPPED FORCING YOUR COCK DOWN HER THROAT LIKE A JACKHAMMER.

Basically, you were just masturbating with her face. If you did that to me, I’d have unsheathed my teeth or pinched your balls. Did you just cringe? Good, cause I cringed watching that video.

Dude, let her pleasure you or get blowup doll or the Real Doll. I hate guys like you.

That’s all my dears. I’m going to bed. Yup. Home and bed to early on a Saturday night. I rock.

Oh, and because I’m such a blog whore…I created some T-shirts, mugs, aprons, and other shit that advertise my blogs. Take a look at my sidebar, you can’t miss it. I’m kind of ashamed of myself, but not really. You know you want to wear me.

Kisses.

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Trying not to pee myself and vagina lips

Every time I leave for a run, I feel like I have to pee. Even though I usually go before I run. The feeling usually appears in the middle of my run and I just ignore it. Today, it rained like a motherfucker just when I got home. It was a monsoon. After about an hour of straight downpour, it cleared up. I put on my sneakers and took off.

About 5 minutes into it, I had to pee. I wasn’t about to turn around and go home, so I kept going. I was only running about 3 miles today, so I knew could hold it.

Um, yeah.

At the end of my run, I go up this huge hill. It’s a pretty sharp incline. As I start going up the hill, the pee pee feeling is getting stronger. It’s getting more and more difficult to hold it.

The hill is steep. I feel like it’s taking me forever to climb it. The bouncing isn’t helping. I get up the hill and start running a bit faster. I have 3 blocks to run until I’m home. I’m saying, “Don’t pee don’t pee don’t pee don’t pee” to myself as I’m running. Finally, my bladder has had enough and I have to sprint or piss myself again.

Yeah, I pee my pants all of the time.

I get home and run up the stairs with lightening speed. Or like someone who has to pee really bad.

I’m pulling my pants down as I run in the door and collapse on the toilet in relief. Thankfully, I remembered to lift the toilet lid before I let loose.

The peeing was so good I let out a moan.

***

I spent half of my lunch outside today sitting on a bench reading. A woman sat down next to me and pulled out her phone. So, she’s talking quietly in the phone. I’m not really paying attention to her, until I hear this….”I think I have deformed vagina lips.”

Um what?

She then explains that her vagina lips are really long and flare out.

How the fuck can I keep a straight face?

I kept reading as she goes deeper and deeper into detail about her vagina lips.

Who the hell was she talking to?

I looked around for candid cameras or something like that. I really couldn’t believe that someone could talk at length about her vagina lips. But, apparently this was a very important thing for her.

I look up to my right and I see another woman listening to the large-lipped woman. That’s when I lost it. I got up and ran back to work.

So, you know what I did right?

As soon as I got home, I had to take a look at my vagina. Just to make sure that my lips weren’t long and flared out.

It’s all good.

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Leave those trouble boys far behind

This weekend was weird. Yeah….

Friday, I took the afternoon off to babysit baby Colin. He was so good and delightful. I put some classical music on and he loves it. He was smiling and gooing and gaaing.

My sister was on a job interview and we’re pretty sure she got the job. The interview was about 20 minutes long and my sister said it was the weirdest interview ever. The guy had no questions and had no idea what the job was. He said, “I guess I’m the supervisor so yeah.”

Here are some Colin pictures:

My sister and I hung out at my house for a while, and then we bought groceries to cook my mom a nice dinner to celebrate her not having cancer. While we were cooking, my two other stinkies came over—Morgan and Connor. Conner didn’t want me to take his picture, but Morgan (the star) wanted a picture holding Colin. I took two.




Yeah, she’s giving him rabbit ears.

After dinner, my mom wanted to give the baby a bath so my sister and I went out to get ice cream cones. It’s been a long time since we were chilling alone together. We were cracking each other up. She dropped me off at my house around 11 PM. It was a pretty good day.

Yesterday, I got up early and cleaned. I went for a run and afterwards I walked over to the lake with a book and started reading under a big tree. It was so nice and quiet. After about an hour, I see this tall guy coming down to where I was. He looked like Harry Connick Jr., without the big cowboy hat and southern accent. He had a fishing pole and asked me if I minded him fishing near me. I said no. God, his ass was perfection.

So, he’s fishing and I’m reading and he starts talking to me about how he just moved to this town. He said he’s never lived in such a quiet town. We had a really nice conversation. After about another hour, I got up because my sister texted me that she was coming over for lunch. I said bye and the guy asked me for my phone number. I was surprised and gave it to him.

My sister got to my house as I was walking up. We lugged the baby up the stairs to my apartment. I made lunch as the baby was nestled onto my bed for his nap. We ate and talked. Colin woke up and we tried to get a picture of him to smile, but everytime I put the camera up to snap a picture he’d stop smiling. Here are more pictures of the stinky.

My sister left around 4 and I took a nap. It was a gorgeous nap. I woke up and decided I needed to go grocery shopping because I ran out of cereal. Yes, I quit the gluten free shit. It was crap. It’s a long story and too boring. Yes, way more boring than this post. Hard to believe right.

Well, here’s where the weekend turns weird.

I was picking out some endive, when this guy comes up next to me. It’s Harry Connick Jr.-looking fishing guy. I laughed and we talked a bit. He said he was in a hurry and I said I was too, so I continued my shopping. I got in line and as I was putting my stuff up on the counter, I see him get in line…..with a woman….and she’s wearing a wedding band….and they have diapers in their cart.

Deep breath.

Motherfucker.

I give up. I really do.

Steam coming out of my ears.

He sees me and I give him the finger and mouth fuck you. I got home and made dinner. And I got drunk. Seriously drunk.

I did nothing today. Oh, I made lavender shortbread cookies. See….

And that’s it.

Fucking men. Why do I let that man ruin my weekend? I know it’s insignificant, and yet here I am still fuming. So much so, that it drove me to bake to take my mind off of castrating that asswipe.

Can I admit that I actually wanted him to call me after the grocery store? Just to tell him off. How sad is that!!!!

I need a man. Not a bad boy. Just a nice one with an edge. So hard to find. Fuck.

I’ll leave you now with pictures of Stella Marie cause she’s super pretty.

Kisses…

Oh, and I updated all of my blogs this weekend. I know. It’s amazing. I’m going to try to be better at updating more regularly.

More kisses….

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