I Used to Be Funnier…
Calendar of Awesomeness
Better than anti-depressants! … Sort of.
They say a lot of things about me. Mostly that I SHOULD think before I speak…
that would however, pretty much eliminate the element of surprise I like to feel when stupid shit comes flying out of my mouth.
Napkins used after eating hot wings and then shoved in your pocket should NEVER be used as toilet paper no matter how much you’ve had to drink!!
Well I can’t make everyone happy. Suppose I’ll just be content to confuse, annoy and offend you all.
Lifted trucks are for boys who like skinny bitches.
Wondering…why aren’t turkeys narcoleptic with all that tryptophan floating around in them??
Martyrdom doesn’t make you noble, it makes you a self-indicted sacrificial lamb.
For the record; crayons, the red ones… They aren’t cherry flavored.
Every good story should start like that!
Migraines: about as fun as honeymoon handjobs.
The world would be a much better place if your pants really did catch on fire when you lie!
My “give-a-damn” is broken today. However, my “go-fuck-yourself” seems to be working just fine.
Sssshhhh!! My common-sense is tingling…
APPARENTLY it is NOT funny to giggle and make orgasm noises when the toilet is running and “bubbling like a jacuzzi” in a “fancy establishment”
Anatomically, the human tongue and brain are located within inches of eachother. When some people talk…. you’d think it were more like MILES.
I’m like an ugly, shaggy dog…. old, grouchy, and definitely not cute or cuddly. BUT kind of funny when I chase my tail so you keep me around for parties or in case I do something really entertaining when you need a laugh. You don’t want to pet me since I might just bite you or pee on your bed; you just never know with me. That’s my gift to you: spontaneity YOU’RE WELCOME.
Bitter black coffee that has a consistency better suited
for chewing can make quite an impact on your day (and overall
Never underestimate the power of my persuasion on a 3 yr-old. Apparently I am MUCH cooler than a room full of family members and you should know you’re in BIG trouble when she’d rather eat her dinner in the garage with me!
Think about it, nothing good ever came of that sentence. Ever.
Silly wabbit…streets are for cars.
On your Birthday this year…
1. Forget the past, you won’t be able to remember it soon anyway.
2. Forget the present, I kinda forgot to get you one.
3. Something about the Future… umm… maybe getting drunk on the way home was a bad idea. Sorry honey! I love you.
HA PEA BURF DEA TWO EWE!
A good friend posts a cute picture of her cat watching TV and your comment is: “OMG!! Where is your mattress pad, sheets and comforter?! Your bed is NAKED on Facebook!!!”
for next year, I think I’m going to need you to clearly define what types of things constitute getting onto the “naughty list” or the “nice list” so I can better control the outcome. Just sayin’
Sincerely, a NICE girl (despite your incorrect assessment)
There is a reason we teach our kids not to talk to strangers. Yet there you go plopping your kid on some creeper’s lap for a picture every Christmas! Betcha he takes copies home…
Bars have the good sense to cut people off… McDonald’s should institute a similar rule.
Ever have a conversation that was about as productive as eating Oreos while brushing your teeth?
What is a MERKIN?: a pubic wig. Origins are believed to date back to 1450. Ummm…… yeah… Times certainly have changed.
Naked Taco Tuesday is always fun, but no pictures, please
The green bottle of minty smelling liquid on the counter in the ladies room of a “fancy establishment” is NOT the hand soap!
I think my car likes it when we’re the car in front leading a bunch of others. It’s like being the Commander in Chief leading them into battle! We are badass and awesome!
Just saw something randomly funny! Thought the guys shirt said FAT MAN but it said BAT MAN. Don’t know why I was so distracted to think that? Maybe the 6 yds of fabric the logo was on?
Editor’s note: he insisted that I post this on my blog. Which I felt super obligated to do because he usually doesn’t show much interest in my blog. (Probably because he stars in half of it.) Either way, I was kind of proud that he wanted me to post it and even though its totally not as funny as he probably thought it was, I love him for showing an interest in my blog, even for a few seconds. *WIN*
-concern for husband: he locks the cat in the closet for “timeout”
-concern for self: only concern surrounding above scenario is that he didn’t turn the light on for her and she’ll be scared.
I strongly advise against the plucking of rogue nose hairs with tweezers. Even if it is a “cliff hanger” … you WILL regret not waiting until more appropriate grooming tools are available!!
I find it entirely preposterous that for the better part of my life a juice pouch has been making a complete mockery of my intelligence and hand-eye coordination. Capri Sun, you suck.
When I was 8, I might have told a teensy white lie about how my (ugly) pink lunchbox and matching thermos went “missing”. However, I’d like to take this opportunity to remind you of your own indiscretions and spotty track records. Case in point: Easter Bunny…Tooth Fairy…Santa Claus!!! Questions? Didn’t think so.
On Proving points
Me: wow, does that jerk have his brights on?
Craig: No Kidding! Watch this…
<husband swerves toward said jerk and simultaneously hits the switch to ‘flash our brights’ at him>
Me: Wowwwww… you REALLY showed him!! Swerving in his direction and turning on the WINSHIELD WIPERS definitely got your message across, I’m sure…
Craig: Sssshhh I hit the wrong switch!
Me: Still I bet he was scared shitless.
Craig: Do you ever stop talking?
Me: Apparently not.
Apparently men’s asses, can develop the ability, after marriage, for farts to just fall right on out “without their knowledge”
I don’t get why everyone is up in arms about it!? I for one, am in a hurry to catch a flight somewhere! Any excuse to get felt up for free sounds good to me!! ;0)
I was not Hitler or Stalin in a past life. I have evidence of this. Please stop dishing me up their punishments. I can’t handle and I’m pretty sure I don’t deserve any more of this and I’m not a terrible person. (I might also have evidence of this.)
Or if you absolutely must, please park it in the back. Don’t squeeeeeeze it into a teenie-weenie little spot and damage my car or park like a jackass! And also, I promise, you don’t need 4 1/2 spaces in the front row! NOT EVEN A SCHOOL BUS NEEDS THAT MANY!
I think my dog’s feet smell like delicious corn chips… Fritos to be exact
Thanks to genetics, I not only SPEAK my mind… I ALSO WEAR IT – in a lovely, oh-so conspicuous shade of red when I’m: nervous, anxious, overwhelmed, pissed, stressed, embarrassed, and occasionally too drunk (playing poker is out of the question for me)
Dear Asshole: “Merge” means that you get your dumb-ass up to the speed everyone else is going and ease into traffic. It does not mean stop in the middle of a continuous freaking lane until someone decides to earn the kindness award for the day. So hang up the phone and pull your head out of your ass so that the 30 cars you just backed up can be on their way. Thanks.