Memoirs of a Dirty Pirate Hooker

Wtf baby?

2011-11-03T07:40:00.001-07:00

My 17 month old has recently turned into a bit of an asshole. She has her first cold and is simultaneously cutting all 4 of her incisor teeth. Which makes our house a fun place to be, as I'm sure you can imagine. Because of her cold, everything is covered in snot. Her hair, her face, my pants, my shirt, my couch, the dog... It's fucking gross. And if I try and wipe her nose, it's like I just kicked her in the taint.

But back to the assholery. I think she hit the terrible twos early. And I'm not a fucking fan. If we're watching tv and it's something she doesn't approve of, she marches her tubby ass over to the DirectTv box and hits the off button. So we turn it back on. This quickly becomes a game of turn off, turn on. It's horseshit.

We have had to move the table up against the wall and keep all chairs and the bench tucked all the way in. If she finds a crack in the fortress, she pulls a chair out, gets up on it, and climbs onto the table and starts throwing the contents of the fruit bowl out. Also, the fruit bowl contains no fruit. It is filled with painted rocks, sunglasses, papers, bookmarks... Pretty much all the things that should not be in a fruit bowl.

Her next bout of assholeishness comes when she decides to fuck with the cat with no tail. Sammi. Now, Sammi is a mean old bitch and doesn't like kids. She has earned this right, considering Ghost's ex wife aborted her last litter of kittens. But Ireland will have none of her child hating ways. She wants to pet Sammi and god damnit, she will and does! And then Sammi sends a nice roundhouse paw straight at Ireland's face with her claws ready to take some skin. We do this fun game at least 3 times a day. Never gets old for either of them.

Where did my sweet baby go? Who replaced her with this asshole??

The lazy Hooker.

2011-10-13T10:30:00.000-07:00

I'm bored. My days are filled with Ice Age and cleaning. And boozing. Don't get me wrong, I REALLY enjoy being supremely lazy and staying home while my husband is out working. But I'm fucking bored. The one truly awesome friend I made here is moving in like a month, and I'm super bummed. My other awesome friend is knocked up and newly married and in a nutshell, no longer fun.

I want to start a cooking blog because my food is the fucking shit, but I'm too lazy for that. It would involve taking pictures, downloading them to the comp, uploading them to a blog and then coming up with some snarky commentary. Yeah. Too lazy.

I want to learn how to sew, knit and crochet. But I have no sewing machine. I have no yarn. I have no hook and needle. I have no motivation.

I want to be a better housekeeper, but I'm not and I think it's just time to call a spade a spade. I fail at cleaning.

That was a better idea in my head

2011-02-10T11:44:00.000-08:00

Do you ever get a brilliant idea and then once you put it into practice, you realize, wow, that was super fucking stupid!!! Yeah, that happened to me today. Wasn't the first time and I'm pretty positive it won't be the last.

For Christmas, I had asked Ghost's mom for a home waxing kit. Well, she bought me one...sort of. It's actually an eyebrow waxing kit (hi, I don't HAVE eyebrows). So today after getting out of the shower and putting lotion on, I realized I needed to do some maintenance on my giner. So I thought, hey, I'll just use the eyebrow waxing kit! So I heat it up and prepare myself. I knew it was going to hurt, because I've gotten brazilian's before. What I didn't count on was that voice in my head that would soon scream, "don't pull that you stupid bitch, it's gonna hurt".

So Ghost comes into the bathroom to watch. I tell him to leave. I know I won't be able to do this with him watching me. So I apply a sample strip to my leg. I let 'er rip. Didn't hurt, wax wasn't too hot, and it was easy enough to remove. So on to the giner. I sit on the toilet seat lid, pull my legs up, and apply some wax to my ass cheek/meets giner area. I pull my skin tight, hold my breath, and rip it off. Not tooooo terrible. So I decide to go a little further in. I apply to the outer lip area. I grab the wax to pull off. Shit. That hurts. Ok, so I decide to take this one a little slow. Meanwhile, my brain is screaming at me, "abort mission you whore, abort mission". With each tug and pull, I wince, tear up and cringe. But at this point, it has to come off. I mean, I can't walk around with wax on me for the rest of my life! So I ripped and I ripped fast and hard.

Then I promptly put the wax away, put my pants on and walked out of the bathroom with my head hung low. Ghost knew not to ask any questions. I'll just need to save up to get this shit professionally done again. If only I had my wax nazi.

Oh, Smitty

2011-01-24T10:10:00.000-08:00

This past winter, Ghost got a new phone number. Shortly after, we started receiving very odd calls, very late at night, from an obviously inebriated woman. She would ask for Smitty. We don't know a Smitty. So Ghost would tell her she had the wrong number, but she would continue on rambling about how she was Smitty's Grandma and deserved to talk to Smitty. So Ghost would hang up. She would call right back and get progressively more aggressive and rude and would start cussing at Ghost about keeping Smitty from her. These phone calls went on, not every night, but maybe once a week or so for a few months. It was always around 1 am too.

After a while, the phone calls stopped. Until recently. Smitty's grandma called again a few weeks ago and then a few days later, some man called asking for Smitty. Ghost continues to tell these people that Smitty doesn't have this phone number.

This morning, Ghost had a missed call from a Phoenix, AZ number, so he called it back. The woman said she knew she had the wrong number and that this was her ex husband's old phone number and she was trying to reach him. After, I told Ghost he should call her back and ask if the ex husband's name is Smitty. Then, perhaps the mystery of Smitty would be solved. Or perhaps Smitty is the ex husband's son? Who is Smitty? And why does Smitty's drunk grandmother call us looking for him? Why are you keeping Smitty from his grandmother? Most importantly, why oh why, did you name someone Smitty? I need answers!

Pillow Talk

2011-01-20T08:12:00.000-08:00

I have a problem. Well, it's really only a problem for Ghost. When we finally decide to go to bed at night, I occasionally decide I need to get chatty. This drives him insane, but he usually ends up laughing hysterically. Or ripping all of the blankets off of me (my pet peeve) and telling me to shut the fuck up and go to sleep. Last night was one of those nights. It went a little something like this:

*you have to imagine the conversation below in only whispers*

Me: Hey

Ghost: What?

Me: Did I ever tell you about the time I was on a boat in the ocean in Japan and I was harpooning whales?

Ghost: You were never on a Japanese whaling boat. Shut the fuck up.

Me: How the fuck do you know? You don't know shit, you curly headed fuck! The boat was called the Nishin Maru. I harpooned a whale. It's really interesting because...

Ghost: It's not interesting. It's made up. Go to sleep.

Me: Hey...

Ghost: What?

Me: Once, I was on the Savannah and I got dumped by my tour group. So I took up with a pack of lions. They taught me to hunt, and roar and I took down a gazelle!

Ghost: SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!

Me: I hate you.

Ghost: Yeah, well, the feelings mutual. Go to sleep or I'm gonna kill you.

Me: Hey...

Ghost: Oh my god, what?

Me: what temperature did you turn the thermostat up to?

Ghost: 72, why?

Me: It's too hot. It's like Satan's butthole. What was it at before you turned it up?

Ghost: 70

Me: How many goddamn times do I have to tell you, one degree. That's all it should ever get turned up or down. You should get up again and turn it down.

Ghost: Fuck off.

Me: Ok.

You dirty little fist pumper...

2011-01-18T09:23:00.000-08:00

Ever have those nights where you drink too much, and you mostly remember the night? There's always a few dark spots here and there where you're like, I remember doing X, but then I can't remember anything else, until Y... Yeah, that was Saturday night for me.

We started the day off with Ghost cleaning out the garage. This is something he's been promising to do since before Christmas, and I finally told him he needed to just fucking do it. In the winter, we use our garage as a smoking room. It's fucking cold outside. Plus, we have a big screen TV and couch in there. So it's comfy. I sat on said couch while Ghost cleaned in order to "supervise" and tell him what could be thrown away and what couldn't. At about noon, I sent a message to my neighbor and told her to come over and have a smoke with me. So she sat on the couch with me and we decided it was a good time to start having some beers. We decided we were going to have a beer drinking and eggroll eating evening (she makes goooooood eggrolls).

She came back over for our food and beer fest at around 6. Around this time, the ex wife decides to show up as well, because she just can't be alone. So we sat around my beautiful and clean garage. My neighbors sister picked up the Next Messiah for a sleepover with her son, and dropped off one of her daughter's for a sleep over with the Punk. After a few hours, the ex wife and the neighbor went home. At this point, our other neighbors decided they wanted to hang out, but that we had to go over there. We like them, but they're young, and to be honest, the wife is really awkward and I just don't connect well with her. But of course after some hard mixed drinks, I was having an easier time "connecting". We were over until about 2 am. I remember at one point the baby had woken up, so I wrapped her up in the Moby wrap to get her back to sleep.

(side note: this picture is from a different day. I am just showing an example of said sleeping in the Moby wrap)

So last night Ghost and I are watching Lord of the Rings, and he is flipping through his pictures on his phone. I hear a video being played and watch it with him. This would be where those "dark spots of drunkeness" come in to play. Apparently once I had gotten the baby to sleep in the Moby, I started vigorously fist pumping to some music, while I'm wearing my asleep baby. Proud moment in parenting right there. Ghost is laughing his ass off, and I'm just hanging my head in shame at this point. He naturally wants to post this video. I told him I would kill him.

I'm such a dirty little baby wearing fist pumper.

Also, I'd like to share something with you:

He'll probably kill me for that. But I'm willing to take the risk.

And then things got weird.

2011-01-14T11:08:00.000-08:00

So over the last few months, we've had a falling out with my MIL. And really, I should have seen it coming. I mean, hello, first red flag was when she called me after Ghost and I got engaged and said she wanted to come fly to CA 2 days later to meet my mom and I. Then once there, tried to get me to move to CO, but not move in with Ghost. She wanted me and the Punk to get our own place for 6 months. I told her no, and to kindly butt out. I obviously should have been more up front at the beginning.

She's not a bad or mean person by any means. She just doesn't understand boundaries at all. Not to mention, the kids get treated differently. And I get it to a degree. The Punk is her step grandchild, and she's missed 7 years of her life and bonding time with her. But she gets super butt hurt like a child if the Punk doesn't want to play with her, or if she doesn't say hi to her. She's a fucking kid. You're an adult. She acts like a kid, so you act like an adult!

Anyway, back on track. The beginning of December was the Next Messiah's birthday. We had plans with her that she would come up for that weekend and visit. Well, about 2 weeks before, she had asked if her and I could skype. I said the next day would be better. So the next day I get a text around noon asking if I was ready. Well, I wasn't. I have 3 fucking kids and my time table doesn't always jive with when she's ready. So a few hours later she texts me back and says, "I'll take your silence as my answer". I thought it was rude and passive agressive, and was about to text her back to tell her that. Instead, I told Ghost to deal with it. He did. But she can't ever see that she's done wrong in ANY situation. So she refused to see where he was coming from, and so we put her on a little time out.

The Next Messiah's birthday was coming up that following weekend, when Ghost decided to end the time out. The next day, the ex wife asks if MIL is coming to The Next Messiah's birthday party. I said I didn't think so, hadn't heard from her. So the ex wife lets me know that she is in fact coming. She apparently went behind our backs and texted the ex wife to get the info on the party. Ghost was pissed. She has no reason to contact the ex wife. So when he confronted MIL about it, she again, saw nothing that she did wrong. They get into a huge fight, she starts telling him he's not a man and making other rude comments. At this point, the ex wife has already told The Next Messiah that MiMi was coming, so there was nothing we could do about that, so we told her to come and we would see her at the party, but wouldn't be available otherwise.

The party was super awkward, and I ended up getting in a fight with the ex wife over her wanting the Next Messiah to be able to spend time with her, and me saying no. After that weekend, Ghost decided he was done for a while and she was another time out. Fast forward to the next weekend, we get a text from her saying she flew into town and wants to talk. Who does that??? Who flies from Texas to Colorado, un-invited, to talk? So Ghost told her that she was not welcome here under no uncertain terms, and that this was a prime example of her not respecting our time. She was also told she was no longer welcome for Christmas. They kept going back and forth, via text and she just kept digging a bigger and bigger hole for herself.

Ghost decides to call his sister to see if she's heard about this, and to see where she's at with it all. Of course, she was on MIL's side. Ghost and his sister get into it, and he decides after hanging up on her, he's done with them both and wants no more contact. And we haven't heard anything. I sent a thank you note to his sister and his mother for the Christmas gifts they sent to the kids, but otherwise, there has been no contact. And then, I get this text today from his sister: Hi there. I got your wonderful note. I really appreciated that. Not sure where things stand, but I'll be in Colorado Jan 19-24th. Take care.

I don't know how to respond. I'm not sure I will. I need to talk to Ghost about it and see if he wants me to, or if he wants to. What would you do?

These Darn Kids Today

2011-01-12T15:22:00.000-08:00

Having a husband is a lot like having another kid. Not only do you have to remind them about stuff all the fucking time, but you have to pick up after them. At least with mine you do. I excuse the reminding him about stuff thing because hey, he has PTSD and one of the symptoms is short term memory loss. It's annoying, but he really can't help it.

However, picking up after him? I fucking hate it.

I understand that I'm a "house whore" now and theoretically, that's my job. But he can help a little, right?!? I mean, you should see his side of the bed! And his closet? Fuck... Not to mention the little things. And I think it's always those little things that piss people off the most. Like the fact that every fucking day I have to move his pill bottle and the toothpaste back to the "correct" spot. I've asked him. Repeatedly. It does no good. Or how about turning his socks right side out after he takes them off? Nope. Separating his shirt from his hoodie when he takes them off? Nope.

Maybe I sound a little OCD. But these are the little things that help me. And really, they should just be common sense.

The last 2 days I have been on a cleaning mission. I am de-cluttering my house and it feels fucking good. Today I did our bedroom. Holy Jeebus. I didn't even begin to try and sort out his closet. I would do it all wrong anyway. I mean, the man has 300 pairs of shoes and they "all go in their correct fucking boxes". Nevermind the fact that he doesn't have them in their boxes. The boxes are strewn all over either the top of his closet, the bottom of his closet, or outside his closet on the floor. Plus, he has a mountain of clothes in his closet all over the floor as well. It's very frustrating when you're trying to put laundry away. Sometimes I can't even open the closet door because there's so many pairs of fucking shoes on the floor outside of the closet.

So in closing, while cleaning his side of the bedroom today, I found the following random items: a belt, 2 pairs of flip flops, a Valentine's Day card to The Next Messiah that was never opened, about $6 in change, 13 socks - none of which match, 6 hangers, little girl birthday wrapping paper (WTF??), The Punk's math book that was lost last year and we had to pay $35 for, 19 receipts, 6 books, and a fuck load of trash.

Just pick your own shit up, and next time I'll save you the embarrassment of blogging about it. K? Love you Jesus Nipples!

The Ex Wife

2011-01-10T08:57:00.000-08:00

Today boys and girls, we will talk about the ex wife. She will affectionately be known on my blog as Jack Wagon, or JW. The reason for this is because she is in an on again, off again relationship with Jack for the past 2 years, and she's constantly falling on and off of the Jack Wagon. But that's a post for a different day. Today we will just do a brief run down of the past year.

When I first moved here, I really didn't like her. She was entitled, pushy, intrusive and loud. She still is. I've just learned to deal with it and realize that's just who she is. She's the mother of my step son and like it or not, she will be in my life forever. So we've become "friends". She's a very needy person, so this means she calls me at least 2 times each day, whether I have The Next Messiah or not. This means that she comes over basically every day to drink my beer and chain smoke and tell me all of her problems. This summer I finally had to tell her that if she was unwilling to fix her situation with Jack (read: break up) and all she could do was complain, that I didn't want to hear it anymore. And she's been somewhat good about it.

Well, recently there was an incident. The ex wife was texting me and telling me that she had signed TNM up for swim lessons. I immediately felt the impending doom set in. You see, JW for lack of a better word, is a flake. She signed TNM up for karate before I moved here, and took him once. We signed TNM up for T-Ball this past Spring, and she made it to 3 games. So I just knew that the responsibility of getting him to swim lessons would fall on my shoulders. And you know what? I'm busy! Ok, I'm not that busy. But I am lazy and I just don't feel like taking that on, especially since I wasn't asked. So I asked where and when, and apparently it's in the next town over (which is a bitch to get to) and it's twice a week! Apparently her mom is taking him on Tuesday's, and she's committed to taking him on Thursdays.

So in my bitchy mood, I meant to send a text to my mom, complaining about her and the fact that she's flaky and whatnot. Yeah. I sent it to Jack Wagon. *facepalm*

She got over it quickly, because the next crisis came along, and she needed her bitching buddy (me). Sometimes I wish we could do this more often...

Please forgive my fat ass. I had just had a baby the month before. It's less fat now. Also, that's a bathing suit, not big black granny panties. Also, I just pinned her here and she's struggling to get up while I giggle at her weakness.

Another one bites the dust

2011-01-07T08:08:00.000-08:00

Well, another life is about to end. That of Ghost's best friend T. You see, he's put a deposit on a ring for his special lady. I'm sure this statement sounds odd coming from a happily married person. But this affects me too, you know! And, since it's all about me, I'm upset.

You see, T is my sex buddy. When he comes to visit, I get to have lots of sex with him. And it's good sex. So I'm losing sex all because of his selfish decision to get married. My only hope is that she says no. Or that he gets drunk and forgets that he's not supposed to have sex with other people. Here's for hoping.

Yes, I have sex with people other than my husband. It's not like he doesn't know...he's right there too, having sex also. See? I'm still a whore! All is not lost in Hooker-ville! So, apparently Ghost's OTHER friend E needs to get his sexy ass out here to visit because I refuse to loose out on having sex with other hot guys!

Old MacDonald's Farm

2011-01-06T10:56:00.000-08:00

I've missed blogging horribly. Yesterday, I read through about a year of my life on this blog and realized, I wasn't ready to give DPH up. So allow me to introduce myself...again.

I'm DPH, and this is my husband Ghost. We got married in November 2009.

We met through blogs while I was living in California with my daughter, the Punk

and he was living in Colorado with his son, The Next Messiah

The Punk and I moved here in June 2009 and in August, I found out I was pregnant with The Shamrock Pirate

She was born in May.

It's been a fucking whirlwind, but life is awesome.

We also have a house full of asshole pets.

Axel & Ruby

LuLu

Princess

Sammi

Hershey

Lilly

I got lucky, and am able to stay home with my awesome baby and all these dickhead animals. The Next Messiah just started Kindergarten this year, and the Punk is in 3rd grade.

So yeah, that the past year and a half in a nutshell. Hopefully I still have some readers left. Let me know if I do, and I promise to start posting again.

And then it happened

2009-09-18T07:00:00.001-07:00

Something happened recently.

I’m going to tell you how and what. But first you have to understand I never wanted this to happen. I never imagined I would be “one of those people”.

Everyone told me I would love it. That it would change my life. But I didn’t believe them. I didn’t want to believe them.

Then… One day I broke down and I watched Twilight. My life was changed forever. So I went to Wal Mart and I bought the book. I read it in a few days and my life was changed even more. I had to read the rest of the books. I just had to know if Edward would ever make Bella a vampire.

So I went to my library and I checked out New Moon (book 2 in the series). I’ve started reading it and I feel once again whole.

I know this disappoints some of you and I know that it makes others extremely happy. I’m sorry. But there’s no turning back for me. I am officially a tween. I want Edward to be my boyfriend. I want to be stupid, clumsy Bella. I want it all.

Maria and Mario sittin in a tree...

2009-09-17T08:11:00.001-07:00

So now that I’m knocked up, Ghost and I have decided to push up the “getting’ hitched” date. We were planning still on getting married after the previous wedding was postponed for financial reasons, but now we want to do it before the baby comes. I told Ghost that we had to do it soon too because I was not going to be all barefoot and pregnant at the altar. His response? “Sweet, second time I’m marrying a girls who’s knocked up”. Nice.

My co-workers know of a pastor who would do it for free, or we could always have miss JHimitsu come up from the Springs and marry us too. She did get ordained online to do that. Then my co-workers want to throw a big party for us after. But guess what? I can’t drink! FUCK!
But here’s the question I have… What the fuck do I wear? Everything is already getting tight on me and I’m pretty sure I won’t be fitting into my dress. With all the stress I’ve been going through lately, I’ve been a bit of a “midnight snacker”… I could probably wear my slutty Vegas dress that I bought for my bachelorette party. It’s totally Christina Applegate circa Married With Children. It’s short, skin tight turquoise with a zebra print boob area. That would be kinda funny. Especially if I was showing a little. Or I could wear sweats. Cause that’s about all the pants that fit me right now.

So I’m in quite the predicament here…

In other news, my betrothed is now a dirty Mexican gardener. Yep. I got him working as a landscaper for my company. Maria and Mario at your service. Cuttin’ grass and makin’ babies.

Stop tattling!!!

2009-08-07T07:10:00.000-07:00

My daughter is the biggest taddle tale on earth. Seriously. It's about to drive me fucking nuts. Someone please tell me this is just a phase? Everything that happens I hear, "Mooooommmmm, The Next Messiah did this..." And it's not even over important shit. It's so fucking retarded.

5 minutes ago after dinner, she comes outside with Ghost and I are smoking and she says, "Um, mom, The Next Messiah is saying potty words". I don't care. Seriously. I don't friggen care.

Just now she says, "Mom, this morning The Next Messiah took a bite of an apple and put it BACK in the fruit bowl". I don't care.

And it's not only with him. She does it with her friends as well. The rule in this house is unless you're bleeding or have a broken limb, I don't want to hear about it. But apparently half eaten apples and potty words are just as bad as open wounds and broken bones.

If this phase doesn't pass soon, I'm going to hang myself.

Another phase I'm greatly looking forward to ending; the competition with the Next Messiah phase. I know that it's just sibling rivalry and whatnot, but seriously...calm down. The Next Messiah is somewhat of an imaginative boy and tends to make shit up. She HAS to ask though if that ACTUALLY happened!!! "Did he really do that???" WHO CARES?!?

Example:

Me: Punk, you have to eat 5 more bites and TNM you have to eat 3.

TNM: hey, she gets more than me. I'm gonna eat 6.

Me: Uhhh, ok.

Punk: Remember, TNM, I'm still older than you.

SERIOUSLY?!?!?

Ninja Mosquito's

2009-07-22T07:00:00.000-07:00

I've been a busy beaver lately! I'm like...actually BUSY at my new job. Weirdest thing! Wanna hear about what I do? No? Too bad.

My official title is Maintenance Coordinator Supervisor. Basically, my company manages over 700 rental properties, which means that the owner's of these properties don't want to deal with the day to day happenings and the maintenance when it arises. So my job is for when the tenant's of these properties call in and say, "my swamp cooler is blowing hot air" or "my husband took a gnarly shit and there is crap flowing all over our house". From there I contact the vendors and send them out to take care of the problem. I also go and do inspections when a tenant has moved out of a house and then determine what maintenance needs to be done, and I schedule it with the vendors.

I realize that doesn't sound like a whole lot, and it's really not in that context. But with over 700 properties, we get a lot of calls. Plus, with the economy the way it is, there are a lot of people moving out. So I have no time to do anything. I barely have time to take cigarette breaks and when I do, I get on twitter and facebook on my phone for the most part.

Ghost and I went to the Farmer's Market last Thursday and out for sushi. It was a kid free night thanks to the ex wife :) Then my mom came into town on Friday, so we spent the weekend trying to entertain her as much as possible.

I'm also trying to make some friends. It's so weird to have none here. I meet people and I think to myself, hmmmm, could I be friends with this bitch? Like, can I actually imagine hanging out? Then I meet people who seem super cool and totally my style, but I meet them at a random place like the mall, in a store they work at. How do you approach someone to be friends without coming across as creepy??? It's not like we're in a situation where we're hanging out and then it's like hey, we should hang out.

But I've been talking to this one local girl through Twitter and she seems pretty cool. Ghost has met her before at the "TweetUp" they had here and he liked her. So I invited her over for some beers tomorrow night and she accepted! I don't know that we'll have ANYTHING in common, but doesn't hurt to see, right? So far the only thing I think we have in common is that we're both getting married in Vegas. Her on Valentine's day, and me next month.

Anyway, that's what's been going on with me. Nothing exciting, I know. What can I say? I haven't had sex for like EVER. First I got the zombie bite on my hip and once that was finally at a point where it didn't hurt just to look at it, I got a raging yeast infection from the anti-biotics I was on for the zombie bite. THEN, as soon as that started to subside (yesterday), I started my period. But we're fuckin tonight no matter what. I don't care if we do make a Japanese flag out of our bed sheets. Also? One last thing. I'm being eaten alive by these stealthy little fucking ninja mosquitos. If I don't post for a while, it's because I'm dead. Send help.

Talk Dirty to Me (Please?)

2009-07-19T16:23:00.000-07:00

Hello all,

This is the Hooker's highly anonymous friend, hijacking her blog, because I'm too much of a pussy to write about anything related to S-E-X on my own site. Please enjoy my TMI anecdote, and thanks to DPH for letting me use her blog!

So the husband and I are watching TV last night, and the theme of the night seems to be dirty talk. Two different comedians bring it up in their routines on the comedy show we watch first. These male comedians are making fun of women who can’t do it, saying, “Just go into a quiet room, and think about all the dirtiest, most depraved shit you can think of. Then say that.” Then we watch Katie Morgan’s show on HBO, and she’s giving advice on how to talk dirty in bed (DO keep it simple: “Oooh, that feels good.” DON’T lie: “Your cock is so big it’s going to rip me in half!” Maybe just tell him what you’d like him to do.)

We get 5 minutes to ourselves today, and run up to the Palace O’Love (the bedroom). And I’m trying to think of how I can incorporate last night’s education. I’m not a good dirty talker. It sounds good when I see it on a porno, but coming out of my mouth, it ends up sounding mildly retarded.

“Oooh, honey, it’s so….I mean, you’re the best… Slow down or you’re going to….Oh fuck this shit, I’m no good at dirty talk.”

And then, I get an idea. An idea so brilliant it may have transformed the way we have sex for years to come.

I tell him what I don’t want.

“Oh, god, I don’t want you to pull my hair, slap my face and call me a little bitch! Don’t you dare stick it in my ass until my intestines collapse! I don’t want you to put your fist up me and use me like a hand puppet! Please, don’t invite a group of big-titted midgets in here to lick your nuts while I ride you like a cowgirl on ecstasy!” And so on.

He manages to edit out the “don’ts”.

I’m not embarrassed, because I’m a respectable (?) girl, who doesn’t want to do those things.

And it makes him cum like a god damned fire hydrant.

Some days, I’m kind of fucking brilliant.

So, this is awkward

2009-07-14T20:26:00.000-07:00

I've started my new job and I really like it.

BUT...

There's this guy who I work with named Dave. Dave works in my department with me. It's just us. He's been there for 2 and a half years and he seems really nice. I mean, totally nice. He's a little annoying sometimes, but whatever. The most annoying thing he does is this...at least once a day:

"Now, DPH, I know that you smoke. And I just want you to know, that I don't judge you because of it, I don't think any less of you, I still think you're a wonderful human being and I just want you to know that. You're a big girl".

"Thanks Dave".

Really? Do you need to tell me that once a day? Great, I'm glad MY smoking habit doesn't bother you. Wanna see my tattoos so that way you can tell me all about how those dont bother you either and you don't judge me?

But really, I don't need to worry about it much longer. You see, Dave is going to be fired on Friday. Apparently the boss is sick of Dave's shit, and he ain't gonna take it no more.

But I KNOW that Dave is getting fired. This is awkward for me. I don't want to get to know the guy because for one thing, what's the point. For another, it will humanize him to me and then I'll feel even worse when he gets the ax. He's a single dad of 4 daughters. He's in his 50's and he's like a mix between my dad and Santa!

And to make it worse, he keeps making these cracks like, "oh, rue the day I ever agreed to take this job" and "Just give me a holler if you have any questions, I'm not goin' anywhere" YES YOU ARE DAVE. YOU'RE GETTING FIRED ON FRIDAY!!!! You're life is about to change dude, and I can't say shit!

I really hope that they let me go do an inspection while they're firing him. I mean, talk about EXTRA awkward when he comes in to clean out his desk and I'm sitting there looking at him like, I KNEW!

Beans, Beans, The Magical Fruit

2009-07-06T10:00:00.001-07:00

So we had a pretty good 4th of July. But I think it will be most memorable for Ghost. He will forever remember that as the day that I started farting in front of him. And let me tell you, I'm gassy.

He's been farting in front of me since I think our last visit together before I moved here. I grew up in a household where farting was like singing. It just happened, and it was funny. One of my first phrases as a child was, "daddy, pull my finger". When my dad tucked us into bed at night, he would press his naked fat ass against the door and "let er rip"!

But I was never a fart in front of your boyfriend kind of girl. My friends? Yes. Usually on them, or if we're having a sleep over, I'm all about the dutch oven.

But the morning of the 4th, I woke up and my stomach was aching for sweet release. Ghost let one go, and I knew that if I tried to hop up and run to the bathroom to release the vapors in there, it would all just come flying out as I stood. So here's what happened...

Me: Babe, I can't hold it in anymore. Are you going to freak out if I totally bust ass?

Ghost: Nah, go for it.

Me: Are you sure? This isn't something that can be undone. Once you give me permission to fart freely, you may regret it.

Ghost: Yeah baby, go for it. I remember being at your house and holding it in and I remember how much my stomach hurt. Let your fart flag fly.

Me: *fuuuuuuuuuuuurrrrrppppppppp* *giggle, giggle*

Ghost: *laughing his ass off*

Me: That sounded like a french horn...

So then all day long, that's what happened. We had farting matches. I'm pretty sure he regrets it now. But it's too late. Also, if you want to read another story explaining how disgusting I am, hop on over to PetiteGamine's blog and read about what she got to witness on skype last night.

Where's all the weirdos?

2009-07-02T07:00:00.000-07:00

So I haven't run into any "weido's" yet. Well, unless you count the pregnant lady I saw holding a 40 of High Life. Or unless you count the guy at the gas station who I told I had just moved here the day before and then he asked to see my drivers license and when I produced it, he asked if I have a Colorado one. Um, no dude. I don't.

But I'm looking, that's for damn sure. I even made a semi-friend. I took the Punk to the park yesterday to go feed the ducks. There were no fucking ducks. Instead there were 3 little girls running in the pond trying to catch fish with plastic bags. Of course my Punk wanted to join in on the fun. The dad that was there with the 3 girls smiled at me, and his youngest took a liking to me and kept giving me rocks and bird feathers. So the dad and I started talking. It's amazing to me the kinship that people with a lot of tattoos feel for other people with tattoos. He has a shit-ton and a grip of piercings on his face (no thanks). Anyway, he was nice and we chatted for about an hour while all of the kids played. He told me some cool things to do in the area, where to get tattooed, etc. When I was leaving, he gave me his number and said to send him a text next time I go to the park and he'll meet me there. I texted him to give him my number also and he texted me back and said, "next time, you should bring some vodka in your pirate cup, and I'll bring a mixer. That way the parents and kids can have fun at the park". My kind of person.

Do you think it's weird for me to be friends with a guy? I don't, and Ghost is fine with it. But as I typed that out, I thought, other people might find that odd. Whatever. Go fuck off if you do. He's the first person I've met out here besides Ghost's ex wife and her roommate and as much as I genuinely like them, they're not going to be my new BFF's.

Anyway, that's all that's going on over here. I'm liking the area and Ghost and I are having a great time being together. We laugh constantly and hump a few times a day. Life is good.

Also, we are going to do a live video broadcast on U-Stream on Friday night. For those of you who don't know what that is, it's basically like a live TV show with us on it and there's a chat room where you can interact with us while we're on. We'll post a link tomorrow on where to go to watch it. But for now, we need your feedback. What do you want us to talk about? My socks? Nooners? The ex wife? You tell us! Leave me a comment and let me know what you want to hear about!

Do you like my socks??

2009-06-29T23:12:00.000-07:00

So...we are lazy and made a video instead of actually blogging. Peace out. I hope you enjoy.

Coming to you LIVE, from Denny's

2009-06-19T09:56:00.000-07:00

I went to court this morning to resolve my final outstanding issue (read: I'm a criminal). I got there at 7:30 this morning, stood in line for 20 min only to be told I didn't have to wait in that line, that I could just go straight to the courtroom.

So up I go, prepared to sit there for a few more hours. 9:15 the judge calls my name. I pull out my forms and throw my heartbreaker smile on. He smiles back and says, you'll have to come back at 11:20 so that I can view the video, I'm sorry you've had to wait.

So here I sit in the Denny's, a table for one. I've never eaten "alone" before, but its really not at all weird or awkward. Of course, I have my trusty BlackBerry, so that makes it better :)

Only 4 more days until the big move and I have lots to do! Luckily the Punk is with her dad this weekend, so I can get a lot more done. I have a girl coming to pick up my fridge tomorrow morning, so I need to go get a cooler to keep my beer cold in. Cause it would just be tragic if I had to drink warm beer.

Well, that's all for today folks. You should totally go watch the new epidode of BoomTube over at Betsey Booms' place. Its great. Plus? The text message that her husband almost reads on air is from me. Thank god he didn't read it all, lol.

My Last Day at Work

2009-06-18T10:28:00.000-07:00

Today is my last day at work and I'm really sad about it. I've been with these people for the past 4 years and it's like home. It's my security blanket. I wake up in the morning, happy to come in. Sure I have bad days and sometimes my job is boring, but I genuinely like every single person here. Even the Christ Loving Jew.

Yesterday I sent out my "goodbye" emails to everyone and started sobbing like a little school girl bitch. Which I'm sure I'll do again today, LOL. My assistant James is asking me what I want for my "last meal" like I'm on death row, and that's how it feels. Who would have thought lunch would be such a tough decision! But there's certain places that we eat at here that they won't have in Co and I want to get in on that shit one last time.

In other, more happy news... I am super excited to get to CO. I'm totally dreading the drive, but am so happy to just be there and be with my butt fucking fiance. We have a wager going... He thinks it will take 15 hours to get there, and I think it will take closer to 13. The loser has to cook for a week. I'd say it's fair. The drive normally takes about 10.5 to 11 hours, but with towing shit, it will take a bit longer. But I think 15 is excessive, and? I refuse to drive for 15 hours. So who do you think will win???

It's my BIRTHDAY, bitches!

2009-06-16T10:22:00.000-07:00

Yay! Happy Birthday to me. The Hooker is another year older (28 if you're interested in that info). I can't help but wonder though if anything else bad will happen to me on this day. Every year something bad happens on my birthday. Shall we recap a few of my favorites?

My parents divorced was finalized on my 17th birthday.
My mom fell down the stairs and was sent to the hospital on my 18th birthday.
My mom had a mild stroke on my 19th birthday.
I was hospitalized with pneumonia on my 23rd birthday.

The list goes on for every year...trust me.

This year was bad as well. You all may remember last summer when I got pulled over and had my car impounded for an having an open container (not as bad as it sounds, trust me). And contrary to what some may believe, I did take care of the ticket. I went to court and got set up on a payment plan. However, I missed the last 3 months payments (I'm lazy) and therefore another warrant was issued for my arrest.

So on Friday I went to court and dealt with it. I now owe $1900 in fees (holla to payment plans) and they took my license. Why did they take my license you may ask? Because apparently I have an outstanding ticket from 2006. It's one of those photo enforcement tickets, but it says that I was driving a Ford Pick Up with an Arizona license plate. I've never had a pick up truck...

So basically I have to go to the Police Department this week and have them determine if it's me in the photo and then go BACK to court on Friday to give them the results. In the mean time, I had to go to the DMV and pay $130 to get my license back. But it's not my actual license. The baliff in court took that from me. So I have a paper license that doesn't let me buy shit.

So we're going out to lunch today, and I can't fucking drink on my own goddamn birthday!

YAY! Another fucking year of bad luck.

Well, she IS Mrs. Batman...

2009-06-11T09:38:00.000-07:00

As I'm sure you've noticed, I have a ROCKIN' new template, courtesy of the ever talented, beautiful and awesome Betsey Booms. If you want one too, click on the link and shoot her an email. She will hook you up for a ridiculously low fee. Mine was free of course, but that's because I'm a Pirate and everyone knows Hobo's and Pirate's are like BFF's. So much love to you Boomstah. You rock my socks woman!

You know what else rocks about the Booms? Everything. Ok you want more specifics? Mr. Hooker and I are going to visit the Batman residence in September. Their baseball team is playing Ghost's baseball team and we're all going together. The tickets are their wedding gift to us. The fist fights that I'm sure will ensue, are our anniversary gift to them.

While we're there, Betsey and I are going to get matching tattoos, and I'm totally excited about it. Plus? I'm gonna get my haircut by her stylist. I too will have rockin' hair like my blonde friend.

Well, I think I've sufficiently kissed her ass today, so why don't you join in too! Ugly on the inside... I think not!

Weirdo...

2009-06-09T09:36:00.001-07:00

The people in my future place of residency (Grand Junction) are fucking weird. Perhaps it's that I've spent very limited amounts of time in small towns, but to me? They're fucking odd. You want some examples? Too bad, you're getting them...

I have applied for a few jobs that I've seen online, and I also googled all of the property management companies in GJ inquiring about any positions they may have available. I get this call:

Guy: Hi, you had emailed me looking for work in property management?

Me: Yes! How are you?

Guy: Oh just fiiiine.

Me: ... So do you have a position available?

Guy: No, we really don't have anything available.

Me: Oh...ok. Soooooo.....?????

Guy: Well you come on down and see us when you get here, alright? Come and have a little visit with us!

Me: Ummm, yeah. Ok.

Example 2:

Another resume I submitted, the lady calls me the next day...

Lady: Hi, I got your resume and I'm interested in meeting with you.

Me: Great! I will be there on the 24th, so would you like to set something up for that following Monday?

Lady: Well, I'm not really sure if we have a full time position available. We might not even have anything part time. We're not really sure right now.

Me: Oh...ok.

Lady: But if I do, what are you looking to make per hour? I see you're making ___ now, but you do realize you won't make anything that high livin' out here?

Me: I would be fine with something closer to ___ this range.

Lady: Oh, that'd be just fiiiine.

Me: Ok, so do you want to make an appointment for when I get there to meet up?

Lady: Well, I'm just not sure if we're going to have a job available. But yeah, let's set something up!

I have more examples, but really? Do you need them? I think not. These people are fucking odd and I'm a little concerned.

You wanna take a ride on the Hooker Express?

2009-06-05T08:56:00.000-07:00

Alright, so apparently people want me to talk about my day's humping the gay's. And so I shall deliver. Most of my gay humping experiences come from my days performing at the Rocky Horror Picture Show. I was Columbia and naturally I was surrounded by gay's.

Gay #1: Michael. He played Dr. Frank at the RHPS and was soooooo gorgeous. I wanted to know him and hump him in a BAD way, and I always thought he was bi. But I was soon to discover that he did in fact, exclusively love the cock.

We started talking little by little and hanging out more at the after show parties and whatnot. The infamous night where I humped my first gay, we were at an after hours party in Huntington Beach. We were all drunk and high and were playing spin the bottle (retarded, I know). It landed on Michael and I, and I was fucking ready. So we crawled across the floor to each other and I rocked his mother fuckin' world with an awesome kiss. Later that evening, I was sitting next to him and he had his hand on my leg and I was whispering something into his ear about how badly I wanted to fuck him. He looks at me and says "alright, I'll give it a try".

And off we went to a mostly abandoned bedroom. I ripped his clothes off and fucked him sideways. He went back to men, but we always shared a "love" for each other and from that day on, I was his number one fag hag. And I may have continued to give him many o' blow jobs. Just sayin'.

Gay #2: Philip & Tony. They were a cute boy couple and we had great times together. We would always cruise the town looking for fun, booze and whatever else we could find. Philip had a catchy little phrase that he would throw out there to boys sometimes, "Haaaaay, wanna Phill-up on deez nutz?" I loved those 2.

One weekend we all went camping and Philip, Tony and myself shared a tent. After a night full of drinking and drug use, we expired to our tent. Tony and Philip started going all brokeback on each other and I was just going to roll over and go to sleep. Until... I feel a hand on my boob. I look up and Tony is totally feeling me up while he's making out with Philip. So I'm thinking, ummm, you're touching my boob (pretty sure I said it outloud too). So then they both look at me with a coy little smile like they had planned this all along. They tell me they've always wanted to throw a girl into the mix and I'm just the gal to do it. I'm game.

So the three of us fucked until the sun came up. It was great and a little dirty at the same time. Unfortunately, 2 months later Philip and Tony broke up, because Tony decided he was bi, and Philip was not ok with that. So Tony and I fucked for a while and then went our seperate ways.

There have been 2 others, but one, who was a dear friend is dead now. He died 4 years ago suddenly at the age of 23, so I won't go into that. At least he left me with something, right? And I don't mean VD. Just the memory that I got to fuck his gay self.

I hope this post was all you wanted it to be Blue

How do you solve a problem like Maria?

2009-06-04T08:22:00.000-07:00

No longer shall I be called Maria. I am no longer being oppressed by "the man". Instead, I've hired a new mexican to be oppressed by "my vagina". That's right, I'm no longer cleaning my offices. I looked on Craigslist and emailed the first company I found for cleaning services, and was told there would be 2 people here this morning and I had to come in an hour early to meet them so they could clean. But I get here this morning and there's a dude here. One person, and he's a guy. Naturally I'm a little apprehensive. Hello, Craigslist killer anyone?!?

And Ghost, being the sweet, loving fiance that he is, puts me right at ease:

Me: So I'm all alone in my office with a strange man. The new cleaning company sent some guy. I'm a little uncomfortable.

Ghost: Oh yeah?

Me: ...yeah!

Ghost: Are you wearing any panties?

Me: LOL, you're going to feel bad if I die. I found these people on Craigslist!

Ghost: Lmao. The Academy Award goes to you.

Me: I hate you.

Ghost: Is he hot at least?

Me: No

Ghost: Bummer...

But now that the guy's been here for a bit, I think he might actually be gay...not entirely sure though. I may have to *gag* flirt with him a bit to see if he wants a ride on the Hooker Express. Everyone does. I've made gay's ride the Hooker Express and they loved every fucking second of it.

So tonight? Tonight I drink a beer in honor of myself no longer being Maria.

Fuck you, stress

2009-06-02T09:01:00.000-07:00

Do you know what it feels like to know you're stressed, but not actually feel stressed? That's how I feel lately. I know I'm stressed, but I don't feel overly stressed or anything. I mean, I'm not like having anxiety, or freaking out in any way. I just know I'm stressed. Mostly because I'm breaking out like a teenager, my ulcer is back and my insomnia is creeping it's sneaky little fucker like ways back into my nights.

And I realize I have a lot to be stressed about. In 22 days I'm moving to a new state, to a new house, a new town... Not to mention I'm moving in with a stinky boy and his/our adorable son! But on top of all of that I have the stress of getting rid of all of my furniture, deciding what to toss and what to keep, packing it all and taking 3 cats a snake and a child on an 11 hour car ride. Not to mention that once I get there I have to find a job.

So yeah. The stress is there and I can see it, I just don't feel it per se.

Perhaps the reason I don't feel it is because I can see the good and the exciting things ahead as well? I mean, I get to start over. My punk and I. I get a husband and my punk gets a dad and I get a son...what could be better? Plus? I get round the clock cock and I am a big fan of that!!

I think I'm a pretty optimistic person, almost to the point of delusional. So I'm really excited about what the future holds and I'm trying to not be so stressed. I just wish my "half glass full" self would tell my ulcer, my pimples and my insomnia, "don't worry, bout a thing...cause every little thing, is gonna be alright..."

So fuck you stress!

I wanna love you...

2009-05-31T12:27:00.000-07:00

Friday night I went over to my brother and sister in law's house for a sleepover. Last time we did a girl's night sleep over, we drew angry baby eyebrows on my 2 year old nephew. It was bound to be a good time, right? Plus, my bridal shower was the next day and if you want to read about that, head on over to my wedding blog, k?

So Gangsta Sarah and I made some mojito's to get the night started right. After quite a few rounds, my we decided we were going to try and get a good picture of the 3 of us...which could have gone well if my brother wasn't involved.

We pretty much filmed the whole night (they're getting sentimental now that I'm moving in 24 days) but I got this little gem on my camera and I couldn't pass up posting it. We're a couple of break dancing bitches. We got mad skillz.

What a pal!

2009-05-26T07:22:00.000-07:00

You know when you have a good friend? When you have a friend willing to pay for your happyness, that's when you know what kind of pal you have!

My Punk's BFF's mom (we'll call her Rockin Mamma) and I have been friends for about 2 years now. Our kids met in Kindergarten and Rockin Mamma and I learned that we had some things in common. Like drinking. So we started all hanging out. I bring the Punk down to their house and we usually both stay the entire weekend. They just have one of those houses where you feel totally comfortable.

Rockin Mamma is older than me, she's 44 and she has a boob job. Like, really BIG boobs. And we're always talking about ways that I can get mine done (like financially). So yesterday we were sitting around watching Grillin' Week on food network and she says, "I figured out how to get you boobs!"

Naturally, I'm all ears.

Basically, here's the plan. She is selling her jet ski's and hoping to get about $1000. She will then take that money and trade it (stocks and other shit I don't understand, but she does it for a living). Then, in about a year, there will be enough money for my boobs, enough to give her back the original investment of $1000 and enough to pay the taxes on the money. What a rockin' friend I have, right?!?!

Chrome and Nipples? Check.

2009-05-20T22:05:00.000-07:00

I was a bit of a tomboy growing up which really? Shouldn't be a huge surprise. I mean, my dad was a cop and my brother was a guy's guy. The only girls on my street that were my age were Palua Ton, a polish girl that had a child molester painter that tried to make us touch his wang, and Angela Berandini, who was the neighborhood trash. Naturally Angela and I got along fine for the most part. But her dad was a drunk, so she was kept indoors a lot.
So with mostly male influence, I was mostly watching "boy" cartoons. You know, Transformer's, Batman, Superman, etc. Plus, the little female influence I actually did get was Gem and the Hollograms or Rainbow Brite. And let's be real. They're super heroes in their own right.

I remember having a Batman shirt that was black with the pink batman symbol. Then? When I was a little older and the animated series came out? I fell in LOVE with Poison Ivy, Supergirl, Batgirl and Cat Woman! I liked the good and evil thing equally.

So when tonight on twitter, Betsey Booms decided she was chaning her name to Betsey Batman (legally) and her husband to just, Batman, I was QUITE excited!! I mean, we're talking chrome and nipples here people!

So now I'm trying to decide which super hero I want to be. Hawkgirl? Poison Ivy? Cat Girl? My options are limitless people!!

You dont SOUND like a redneck...

2009-05-18T07:00:00.000-07:00

I had a fun weekend. Friday night I did nothing except drink myself silly and text message with people and watch movies until I passed out on the couch. I was supposed to go meet up with one of my favorite bloggers, MongolianGirl. She was in LA for work and we were going to go out to dinner. But my mom's car broke down and she had a work function that she had to attend and she needed my car, so I had to cancel.

Saturday I woke, swearing off vodka and vowing to return to my beloved beer. With my punk being gone at her dad's, I figured it was a good time to dispose of some of her things. That kid is a hoarder and won't let me throw ANYTHING away. I mean, she'll come home from school with 20 pieces of scratch paper, with lines on it and put it in her desk. If I try and throw it away, she'll say, "but mommy, I made that for YOU". She knows how to work me, eh?

As I was going through her stuffed animals, I realized I was the one with the problem. I kept picking things up and thinking about the emotional attachment that went with it and then I would think, I can't get rid of this! She got this the day she was born, or she got this at Knott's Berry Farm. But really? Does she need it? When was the last time she played with it? So I did it. I got rid of 4 trash bags full of stuffed animals and old toys she doesn't play with.

Saturday evening, the lovely Lisa came down. We were going to go have dinner and drinks for our birthday's. She's May, I'm June but we wanted to make sure we got it in before I moved! We went off to the Yard House and got some cocktails. My sweet Lisa is a lightweight when it comes to booze. One drink in and she was bombed. Its really cute though cause she gets super giggly. So we had a couple more and left to go back to my house. I made her a strong vodka cranberry and I switched to beer. We watched some Jamie Fox stand up and kept getting phone calls from J over at ImaTroubleMaker. I guess someone hit her car while she was out for the night. She was fucking pissed. I told her if she would have parked her car in Allie's huge vagina it would have been protected.

Then we decided to call MissMerrySunshine too, just for shits and giggles and to see if she had an accent (I've only texted with her so I didn't know what her voice sounded like). This plan would have been a lot better if it wasn't almost 2 am for her. Sorry Jess!

So overall? It was an awesome weekend.

This is what we argue about.

2009-05-14T07:00:00.000-07:00

Here is a lovely exchange between Mr. Hooker and me from yesterday. I was looking on Craigslist and found some birds for sale. The ad said that they were zebra finches and that they laid lots of eggs. I forwarded the ad to Mr. Hooker and got an immediate, “NO!”. So I asked why and here was our conversation…

ghost: We don’t need more animals right now.

me: But they’re birds! So low maintenance. And don’t you want our children to learn about eggs and shit?

ghost: Look, flying catfood!

me: Uh, they’re in a cage!

ghost: Mmhmm. Do you know what finches sound like?

me: Heaven?

ghost: lol

me: Am I right?

ghost: No.

me: Close?

ghost: No.

me: Do they sound like a dying hooker?

ghost: Buy them and we can find out.

me: Soooo, you’re saying yes?

ghost: No.

me: I heard yes.

ghost: No you didn’t.

me: You said buy them and we’ll find out. That = yes in my book.

ghost: No, that means if you buy them, I’m going to skin you to see if finches really do sound like a dying hooker.

me: So what you’re saying is, buy them and we’ll see what happens. Which basically means yes.

ghost: No.

me: You know, you’re not very good at compromising…

Oh the power of the accept or ignore button!

2009-05-13T07:17:00.000-07:00

One thing that I love about Facebook is that you can really choose who you accept as a friend and who you don't want as a friend. I know the same is true with myspace, but if you don't have your profile set to private on myspace, then people can see all of your shit anyway. Not with FB though. If someone is not your friend, they can't get in.

Like my mom, for example. A while back she kept sending me friend's requests and I kept ignoring them. So she asks me why of course and I told her I don't want to censor myself and that she wouldn't be happy with a lot of the things she found on my page anyway. She accepted that response and stopped bothering me.

Last night on the way home from work my mom and I were chatting like we do most nights. She tells me that she has been sending friends requests to my brother also and he won't accept her. Naturally, I burst into laughter and with hindsight being 20/20, I know now that this was not the appropriate response. Also not the appropriate response: awwww, how sad, your kids don't want to be FB friends with you!

So now I've decided I'm just going to have to actually ignore the requests of those I don't want to be friends with and that way, I can be like, "oh, I don't know how this whole FB thing works. Can you send it again"? Much wiser response.

Russell Brand, do you like cabbage?

2009-05-12T09:42:00.001-07:00

Look, I need to get laid. I mean, like super bad. I’m almost willing to take it from a break dancing hobo at this point. Russell Brand? Are you reading this (doubtful)? If so, please come over immediately take care of some business, wouldja?

I know I only have 39 more days until I move, but holy fuck, I’m not sure I can wait that long. I mean, I will. Unless of course Mr. Brand comes knockin’ on my door (front or back, I’m ok with either). So in an attempt to forget about my holy hornieness, I have decided to start drinking heavily. I’m sure you’re asking yourself how that’s “news”. But trust me it is. I’ve also decided to go on a strictly cabbage and beer diet. These 10 pounds of thigh chub aren’t going to go away by themselves! Turns out, the cabbage only diet gets me drunk much faster.

But there’s a glitch, you see. When I get all drunk, I forget that I’m on a cabbage only diet and I do shit like order a large pizza and eat it all myself. This is not good. Fuck you, thigh chub. Not to mention, I’m a little um…gassy from all the cabbage and beer. My co-workers LOVE me right now and my punk can’t stop giggling. I’m a classy lass.

So please, if you see me fucking a break dancing hobo while blowing cabbage scented vapors out of my ass, forgive me. I’m getting married and it makes people do all kinds of crazy things!

Potato, Po-tat-o

2009-05-06T22:15:00.000-07:00

Alright fuckers, ghost and I had a disagreement tonight and I need you're help to prove my (or his) point.

Ghost has a trundle bed in his guest bedroom and we've been trying to figure out if I'm going to move the Punk's bed out to CO or just sell it. So, he's been telling me about this trundle bed of his for months right?

Fast forward to tonight. We're talking about said trundle bed and this is our conversation:

Me: does it have a mattress on both parts? Like the top and the part you pull out?

Ghost: its only the part you pull out.

Me: wait. It only has a mattress on the bottom part.

Ghost: yeaj, well there's only the bottom part.

Me: I don't understand.

Ghost: its like a reverse trundle bed.

Me: ... Huh?

Basically, it boils down to this: its only the bottom "pull out" portion of a trundle bed. There is no "top part". Its just the piece that goes up and down like an ambulance bed. So then this happens:

Me: ok, so that's not really a trundle bed.

Ghost: yes it is.

Me: no. Its not. It does not perform its main function as a trundle. There's only one fucking piece.

So we argue about this for a few minutes and then I decide I will leave it up to my readers.

Its a twin fucking bed. That's it. There's nothing to pull out underneath. You can't call it a trundle bed if there is only one part, right?

Whose side are you on...

She's a bleeder!

2009-05-06T07:29:00.000-07:00

I know I'm going to gross a lot of you out with this post, but if I didn't do that at least once a year, I wouldn't be doing my job!

So I'm on my period. And this is no ordinary period, its the mother of all periods. I'm on day 4 which is usually my slow down day. Day 1, very light. Day 2, open the floodgates, Day 3, floodgates continue. Day 4, slows down and tapers off. Not this time. I'm dropping blood clots like there is an alien inside of my uterus, eating all of my tissue and spitting it out.

And you know what is a super creepy feeling? Passing the blood clots. Like, the big ones. You sort of feel like you're giving birth to a little clot of blood. I just dry heaved a little. Sorry.

You know what else sucks, besides these horrid cramps? The fact that I can't even put a tampon in before its soaked up and ready for another. My vagina is like a little tampon eating machine and I for one, am tired of being Tampax's number one customer this week.
I just popped 2 vicodin so that I can get my blood clot dripping self to work. We'll see how this shit works out. Fuck you, period!

Weekend debauchery

2009-05-05T11:36:00.000-07:00

Why do men flip out so much when 2 girls kiss? I really don’t get it to be honest with you. This past Saturday, my friend LBJ came up from San Diego and we decided we were going to go out and paint the town red one last time before I moved. Instead, I got painted red, but we’ll talk about that a little later, m’kay?

We got all dolled up and in the car to decide where to go to. I had mentioned that I heard the Island hotel bar was awesome on Saturday nights, so we decided to hit that up. We rolled up in my filthy and dented (missing one hubcap) green Toyota Camry to a swarm of paparazzi and women in evening gowns. I looked down at my satin mini dress and hooker heels and quickly realized this was NOT the place for us. The valet moved forward to open my car door and in a moment of panic, I hit the lock button and burned rubber out of there. Mature.

We decided Muldoon’s (an Irish pub) was more our kind of place, plus LBJ used to work there long ago so we figured we could get a few free drinks. The bartender was ancient and there were some fucktards sitting next to us, waiting to go see Wolverine at the movie theater next door. Fucktard #1 was REALLY excited because we were drinking the same kind of beer (OMFG, how weird, right???) and because I have tattoos and guess what? He has one too! We are like, sooooo meant for each other. He has to go to his movie and asks if I’ll be there when he gets back. Probably not soul mate, probably not.

I decide that I’m hammered enough and can officially move on to the next place. I have the security guards call us a cab and there’s not a lot more that I remember about the night. Here’s the rest of what I do remember…

There was a HUGE Italian guy at the Yard House bar who had ordered a steak dinner. I made friends with him and made him feed me his meal. It was the best fucking steak and mashed potatoes I’ve ever had. Then, I made him order me a basket of sweet potato fries and I ate the entire thing. I woke up in the morning and to my surprise, I found this…

Apparently LBJ wrote that on my leg with my red lipstick. You know what else she did with my red lipstick? Tried to dye my hair/scalp. I looked in the mirror and my entire part on my head was covered in red lipstick, as was my face. LBJ says we made out a lot at the Yard House for Italian boy. I’d say it was a great night.

You think I'm going to hire you?

2009-04-30T07:11:00.000-07:00

The stupidity of people applying for positions with our company never ceases to amaze me. I recently placed an ad on Craigslist for a part time position at one of our facilities. With California's unemployment rate, I came to work the next day and found 237 emails in my inbox, from over and under qualified people, and many who are just fucking stupid. I'd like to share a few things with you people applying.

1) If your email address is 2sxy4u, 69guy, keepsitup or any other variation of those, I would strongly suggest you open a dfferent email account with something more simple...like your name, to use when applying for a job.

2) If my ad asks you to email your resume, please do that. Don't send me a one sentence email, mis-spelled saying, "I like to aply for postion". I'm not emailing your ass back.

3) Come up with a new "objective" on your resume. I'm sick of reading about how your looking for a job that will challenge you and how great of an asset you'll be to my company. Let's be real, you won't be challenged and you won't be an assett.

4) When I say "experience required" and you have no experience, at least have it be somewhat office related. You people who have been waiters and then email and tell me that your previous employment history will show me how good you'll do at this job... You're not serving food here. You have no experience.

Lastly, if I've explained the rate of pay, the job duties, etc. And you email me asking for inmfo on those subjects, I'm going to delete your email. If you couldn't be bothered to read my ad completely, then I can't be bothered to respond to your email.

Hey, lay off the crack pipe!

2009-04-27T07:11:00.000-07:00

The funeral went really well on Friday. All of our hard work paid off and the boss was really happy with it.

After the funeral I headed down to Petite Gamine's house. Her husband was gone for the weekend and we were going to do a girls weekend full of booze, waxing genitals, and jacuzzi's.

Saturday night is what I like to call, "rip the hair from my vag part 1". We went to a hibachi grill and did sake bombs, followed up by a few shots of tequila and some mixed drinks and beer. Then we got on the webcam with GoK and talked with him and did a shot with him. We then went into the jacuzzi naked and relaxed before the big hair ripping.

We were up until 3 am ripping hair from me and we didn't get it all. It was too painful. We decided we would do it over a 2 day period.

Sunday we went off to a bridal expo, where I spilled half a beer on her newborn's face. Sorry, baby Ava. It was your brother's fault. Then the sham wow guy asked me for my phone number, even though I had a big sticker on that said "BRIDE".

We then decided to rip the resdt of the hair from my genitals. I thought I was ready. I was not. We saved the most horrific part for last and I just couldn't hang. I've never been this big of a pussy getting waxed before. Maybe I'm about to start my period or something, I don't know.

Anyway, it was a good weekend. How was yours?

Capt Fat Sack Diaries

2009-04-22T07:01:00.000-07:00

Hello losers, it is I, Capt. Fat Sack once again. After that bitch, the Dirty Pirate Hooker found out about my last romp online, she cut off all ties to the internet for me. But I think increasing my bowel movements and hairball output has convinced that vile woman to give me back my freedom.

I'm still planning escape on a daily basis. My current plan is to be so much trouble that she finally tires of me and sets me free. I've been harrassing the other idiot cats in the house and I've also started licking and scratching myself so much that I'm losing patches of hair. This has the wench so irritated that she has had to take me to the doctor multiple times and spend so much money for nothing. Naturally there's nothing wrong with me. I'm perfect.

My favorite shennanigan to date was this morning. You see, I notified her landlord that the maintenance men could start banging on the wall outside of her bedroom window at 6:30 this morning. Then, when the skank got up to run outside like a crazy person, I made sure that I conveniently got tangled up in her legs and let me just say, TIIIIIMMMMMBEERRRRRR! Oh, how satisfying.

Well, that's all for now. I'm devising a plan for a nice little surprise for her after she gets home from cleaning her office tonight. Clean this one up, bitch

Regards,
Capt Fat Sack

Where's my jew hat?

2009-04-21T07:15:00.000-07:00

My boss' brother died about 2 weeks ago. It was very sudden and we still don't know how he died. We all new Rick and one of our maintenance men was the person who found him dead. He lived at one of our properties and my boss hadn't heard from him in a few days, so she sent someone over to check on him. Looks like he had been dead for about 3 days.

We haven't had the services yet either, but we're having them on Friday. So my boss calls today and says we all have to plan the entire thing. Fuck. Its going to be at her house (he was cremated) and we all have to coordinate the service, minister, food, booze, seating, table arrangements, programs, and music. I mean, everything.

My boss would do it, but her 16 month old is in the hospital because she's having unexplained seizures. Its not been a good month for my boss, lol.

Also, my boss and her brother were raised Jewish, but Rick has been studying Buddhism, so we're not sure what to do.

Leave it to the Christ Loving Jew to coordinate all the jew gear. She's asking us today if we want to get jew hats for all of the men. Uh, no.

So that's going to be my week. Full of death and retarded sayings about "this life and the next" and "he's in a better place". Fuck.

Follow your heart, and your ass will come too

2009-04-17T07:15:00.000-07:00

Why do people think that if we just wait longer, we'll have a better marriage? Do they think we'll find something out about each other that will make us not want to get married if we push the date back 6 months? They don't seem to understand.

Also, they want us to be with each other more, like one on one, but we can't live together! How does that make sense? Sure, I'll pack up all mine and my punk's shit and move to a new state and live somewhere else. That makes sense.

I just don't understand what they think they will accomplish by saying these things?

He keeps picking his bagina!

2009-04-15T07:11:00.000-07:00

I've decided to take up drunken pilates again. What's that? You've never heard of drunken pilates? That's because I coined it. Ok, maybe I didn't, but I'm the only asshole I know that does pilates drunk.

A while ago my mom bought me a DVD called Pilates for Whimps. Its got a bitch on the cover with a cup of coffee in her hand and a donut. Just my cup of tea. And since I've been eating like food is going out of style lately, I've decided this will be my course of action for a month or two to drop some lb's.

I was all ready to make it happen last night. Especially after I stood over the trash can shovelling in that piece of carrot cake. So I started drinking to motivate myself. Turns out? Beer is NOT a good motivator. All I did was get drunk. There was no pilates.

But tonight...tonight it will happen. Maybe.

Home Alone

2009-04-14T07:00:00.000-07:00

Just got home from Texas. I had a really great time, but its just so depressing to be home. I will post pics ASAP.

I was eaten alive by mosquitos while I was there. They love my sweet nigger blood, what can I say? I counted on the plane ride home. I have 17 mother fucking bites and Jesus, do they itch. Fuck you, mosquitos.

GoK and I had a lot of fun sneaking around. We got plenty of lovin' in on a nightly basis. I'm also pretty sure we got caught sleeping in his room together on Easter morning. We didn't mean to, but we had our engagement party the night before and we were trashed. I don't even remember going to bed together. I woke up at 7 am and snuck back to my room. Unfortunately, the next morning my FMIL made a few comments that lead me to believe she knows. Oops.

My future son is the most adorable and rambuncious boy ever. I just wanted to hug and kiss him all over when I saw him. His little voice is the cutest thing on earth and he has his daddy's chin dimple that makes me swoon. Eventually, he covered me in kisses and I was very happy. Of course, all I got was open mouth kisses and everyone else got closed mouth, but whatever.

The kids got along pretty well. They definitely had their up's and down's. But over all, I think it went well.

Having to say goodbye again is so hard and makes me want to move earlier. I'm thinking about it.

Hookers in Heat

2009-04-09T11:26:00.000-07:00

Posted by your local Trouble Maker

I'm only 3.5 hours away from my favorite Hooker ever, and I can't even see her. She's in Houston (or close to it) enjoying the heat and humidity. Yeah, fucking right. I fucking hate the heat of Houston. I wish I could be there, though. Oh, we had plans. What can I say? I suck. That's pretty much it.

It's easy to tell you what I think would happen if I met DPH. We would fall madly in love, get drunk and make out like college freshmen at a frat party. Either that, or she would hate me. I'm going to go with love, since that seems to be so much better for my ego. I'm pretty sure she would drink me under the table in the first 30 minutes flat, too. And I would probably have to witness copious amounts of groping and dry-humping between her and Ghost, but hey, the more the merrier, right? For all I know, it could just turn into a drunken fuck-fest with us all getting fucked in the same room and not giving a shit who saw what, as long as we were gettin' some. That girl just oozes sex, and I'm sure it's even worse with GoK around. I'm surprised orgies don't just form around them.

DPH is a lot of things. Number one, she is smokin' hot. DAMN, I have seen that girls ass, and it is awesome. Don't believe me? Liar. You know she has a hot ass. Except, you know, when she has cum all up in it. Ew. I can do without the cum sharts and all that shit, but whatever floats her boat. At least I know I have an expert that I can talk to when I want to talk all things ass. And you know what? Now D is talking about butt-fucking. Thanks, DPH. Even when you aren't here you still incite butt-fucking.

The first thing that made me love DPH, though, was when she blogged about when she is out of toilet paper. You know what she does? She wipes with the cardboard roll. Hell yeah. You don't read blogs every day that have content like that (well, unless you read hers...which you do...) No one really admits all the nasty shit they do on a regular basis, except for DPH. Like peeing in the cat box. Or wearing a huge towel-diaper. Or getting fucked in the ass and having cum sharts. You have to love this girl, because she has nards (that one's for you, BB) and isn't afraid to say exactly what she thinks at any time. I suppose that could get her in trouble sometimes, but does she care? I think fucking not.

I think we could all be a little more like DPH. So, in honor of DPH and GoK, I promise to get shit-faced (and possibly butt-fucked) this weekend, all while thinking of them. Have fun, DPH, and don't forget the lube.

Nervous? Who, me? Naaaah!

2009-04-07T07:08:00.000-07:00

I leave on Thursday for Texas with my Punk to spend 5 days with Ghost, his son, his sister, mother, and father. AND a whole bunch of family friends and relatives and Ghost's birth mom, Mother Mary!

You see, my FMIL is throwing us an engagement party of sorts on Saturday. And you know what? I'm not nervous. For the first time, I'm not nervous about meeting so many of "his people". Maybe that's because he'll be there with me, but who cares. It feels good.

One of the things that's going to suck though, is that we can't sleep in the same room.

So I had an idea last night.

My idea is to tell his mom that my punk is a vicious and abusuve Edward Scissor-toes child in her sleep and she must be restrained at night and left to herself, for her own safety and the safety of others.

Do you think it will work?

Stop It

2009-04-06T06:51:00.000-07:00

Everyone just needs to stop it. My mom, my cats, my kid, the people dying, just stop it.

I had a pretty good weekend. On Saturday I met up with my sister in law Gangsta Sarah and little Miss Libelletage to do our bridesmaid dress shopping. Well, really all they had to do was try them on and buy them. And they did.

After that we all went over to Ross to look around and see if we could find some shoes for them to wear. It was really fun and we were being all gay and funny and shit. Oh, also? I saw a middle eastern woman with one of those wrap things on her head, and she had her cell phone shoved in there and was using it as a ghetto hands free device. It was pretty awesome.

Sunday, my mother and my sister in law and I met up for lunch to discuss the bridal shower. My mom was a total bitch to my sister in law and shot down, very rudely, every idea she had. On the way home my mom and I got into a huge fight. She's one of those people that always has to be the victim and the martyr. I want to bitch slap her.

2 people died over the weekend too. One of my co-workers, and my FMIL's mother.

Its just going to be a strange week I think, and I'd like to say in advance to the week, just stop it. I've had enough of your shit already and its only Monday morning.

Oh, also? My work installed tracking software on my computer, so I am now stuck with only my blackberry. Just stop it, assholes.

how much is that daughter in the window?

2009-04-02T06:43:00.000-07:00

My Punk is a big fat thief. Some of you may remember last year when the Punk was selling See's Candy for a school fundraiser, and everyone at my work ordered something. They give the boxes of candy to the kids, who are then respoonsible to bring them home. Well, Punk ate one of the Christ Loving Jew's boxes of chocolates.

Fast forward to this year and I see the familiar order form. I bring it to work and ask the CLJ if she wants to order and I assure her that she will in fact, receive ALL of her order this year. Because hey, I talked to the Punk and reminded her that it was not hers and to not eat it. Between my mom's office and mine, we get a fuck load of orders.

Yesterday the candy came in. I was being Maria last night and my mom calls to tell me that the Punk and her friends had to carry these big, heavy boxes over to the Boys and Girl's Club all by themselves. Awww. Poor Punk. Whatever. I go about my cleanng and iLeave to drive home.

My mom calls again. "You're gonna be pissed". Great, what happened? Well, apparently the Punk gave her friends 4 of these huge chocolate eggs to eat once they got to the BGC. The order belonged to one of my boss' and those 4 eggs total $20!! My mom started telling me how she and my step dad had a long talk with the Punk and whatnot, so I don't need to drill it into her when I get home. Yeah...if her "talks" were so effective, I would have had a less self destructive youth!

So the Punk is in deep shit and I now have to drive to a See's Candy tonight and spend $20 on some chocolate eggs. Isn't being a mom fun?

Blow me, California!

2009-04-01T09:39:00.000-07:00

I feel like I am just so full of excitement about so many things and I just might burst very, very soon. It's sort of like my "mental episodes" when I bottle up a bunch of shit and then just explode on some un-suspecting person (or shower curtain and mirror). I feel like that's what's going to happen with my excitement!

I mean, in less than a year so much has changed for me, and in 4 months, so much more is going to change....

I'm leaving my job. My daily home for the past 4 years. I have become such good friends with these people and feel so comfortable with them. I love them all dearly and I will be so sad to leave them.
I'll be leaving MY state and moving to CO. I know that California is a shit hole and in a lot of ways, I'm glad to leave. But it's my home. It's where I'm from and I'll be leaving it for a foreign place that I'm not used to.
I'm leaving all of my friends and family. This is by far the hardest for me. As much as I complain about my family, I love them and they're my security blanket. And my friends? I couldn't have asked for better friends and now I'll have to make all new ones.
I'll be gaining a son. I've always wanted a son and I am thrilled that I get to have him be a part of my daily life and watch him grow and teach him things...
I'll be living with a boy... enough said.
I'm getting fucking married!!!

And I'm not complaining here, not at all. I am excited for all of these changes. I'm nervous and scared, but I'm so excited too. I can't wait for this new chapter of my life and I'm so glad you've all been along for the ride.

Dirty Little Kitty

2009-03-30T09:17:00.000-07:00

I am fed up with having to scoop poop and pee out of litter boxes every goddamn day. And if I don't scoop it every day? They find somewhere else to go. Luckily, they don't pee elsewhere, only poop. But really? That's not ok either.

I found myself without child yesterday morning, as my mother took the heathen to church with her. I cleaned up the house a little and then left to go to the grocery store for some un-interrupted shopping time. On my way down to my carport, I saw that one of my neighbor's was having a garage sale and one of his items for sale, was an automatic litterbox.

The lightbulb went off in my head. If this mother fucker works, it will end my problems. I will no longer have to scoop poop, I will only have to empty the tray where it scooped it for me. I can do that!! So I spoke with the neighbor about this wonder machine and found out it was only used for a month and then his cat died (lucky bastard!). He was selling it for $40. I told him I was going to the store and I would get some cash and buy it when I got back.

So I got it. And I plugged it in, put new litter in it, showed the cats where it was, played with it a few times by turning the switch on and off and watched the robot arm comb the litter. It was REALLY exciting! But those bitches wouldn't pee in it. I wanted to see it in action people! Eventually, I went to bed just knowing that the magic would happen overnight and I was sure to wake up to some clumps in the cartridge!!!

I get up this morning and there's nothing. No poop. No pee. No clumps.

It was time for this Hooker to take matters into her own hands. I dropped my drawers and pissed in it myself. And it works! Sweet baby Jesus, the robot arm scooped my pee away into the nifty little cartridge. Soon after, I realized I could have just as easily poured a cup of water into it. But someone had to show the cats how to use it, because shortly after, Lilly went over and pooped in it. It was glorious!!!

This machine will change my life. Thank you robots, thank you.

Bitches always be jockin my shit!

2009-03-25T22:14:00.000-07:00

The punk's dad has been pretty mellow through all of this moving out of state shit. I mean, really. More so than I thought. Of course, this was after the initial blow up and things said like, "well, I never wanted her in the first place but you made that decision for the both of us, so I know you'll make this one without my input". Yeah.

So after all of that, he's been cool. But recently the punk has come home from her dad's with some new things that her dad has apparently told her, such as, "well, if you move to Colorado we won't be able to go to Disneyland anymore. I'll have to find a new kid to take with me".

WTF???

Then there was this, "my dad says he doesn't want to be my dad anymore". Ummmmm, I'm not ok with that. But I don't know what to do. Do I confront him? Or will that only make it worse? I feel like he can say whatever the fuck he wants to me, but don't drag an innocent child into this!

I told Ghost and he was FURIOUS! He immediately wanted to speak to the punk, and I won't relay what was said because it was personal and private between the two of them, but I will say this, he is writing my punk a letter to make sure she knows that he CHOSE her to be his daughter. She's not just some thing tagging along with me, she is the daughter he chose. everything I felt about him was confirmed at that exact moment. He's the father every man on earth should aspire to be.

Fuck you!

2009-03-25T09:21:00.000-07:00

Fuck you kitchen. No matter how many times I clean you, you always end up dirty again! I'm tired of your shit. But you know what really pisses me off about you kitchen? Utensil drawer. Yes you. How do you get food particles in you? You're no where near any food and it's not like I leave my drawers open! Also, fuck you 3 boxes of PBR that are stacked up besides my trash can. Take yourself out, I'm done.

Fuck you laundry. Do yourself. I have no problem going commando. I hate your mass and I hate all of your stupid shit that I have to wash like blankets. You take up too much room. I can only do one load of you and I hate wasting my quarters on a load of one mother fucking thing. So fuck you, laundry.

Fuck you cats.

Captain Fat Sack, if you don't stop with your loud ass ball biting and scraping of the inside of the litter box, I'm going to sell you to a chinese restaraunt.

Princess, if you don't stop shitting in the corner of the dining room and vomiting all over the house, I'm going to remove your intestines with a spoon.

Lilly, you bitch are just plain annoying. Enough with your constant need for attention. I have other shit to do.

Fuck you landlord. Thanks for going into my house yesterday and getting some much needed shit done, but I would have appreciated a one day warning so that I could have hidden everything in my whore drawer before you opened it up to replace the knobs. And yes, my porn was moved, so I know you touched some of my vibrators to get to it. I had to bleach them all last night. I kept picturing you laying on my bed, drilling yourself in the ass with my sweet Brad Clit. Fuck you.

I'll never let go Pabst.

2009-03-24T09:29:00.000-07:00

Dear Pabst Blue Ribbon Genuine Draft,

I must admit, 2 nights ago when Ghost and I went to the store and I told him to get "whatever beer he wanted", I wasn't expecting him to come out with you. Your brother? Yes. But not you, Pabst Genuine Draft. Even if he would have come out with something else, some weird, hipster dark brew, I would have been happy. But I was very upset to see you.

You see Pabst Genuine Draft, I had never had you, so it wasn't that I knew I didn't like you. I just didn't want you. I like me some Coors Light, but I do not like Coors Genuine Draft. I was stereotyping, Pabst Genuine Draft, racial profiling if you will. I gave Ghost some shit about it, but was ok when we got home because I still had some of your brother, PBR at home.

When Ghost told me to just drink you, and I took that sip, I didn't like you. Not one bit. You were different and bitter and well, just not my PBR if you must know.

Ghost is gone now and when I came home last night, I put on his shirt he left here and pulled his pants that he gave me the last time on. I was in need of comfort and when I opened the fridge door, there you were...waiting for me. Offering me a shoulder to cry on.

Don't you see Pabst Genuine Draft? You became the asshole cat that belonged to my husband, but secretly hated me for years, scratching me, pissing in my bed, etc. We had a mutual hatred. Then one day, my husband dies, and now I cling to you asshole cat because you were a part of him. That's you Pabst Genuine Draft. That's you. So thanks for being there for me and offering me some comfort. When you're all gone though, I'm switching back to your brother.

Mer...

2009-03-23T09:16:00.000-07:00

Ghost is gone. We had a really great weekend together, which almost makes it harder to say goodbye.

Thursday evening, he got to my house before I got home from work and from picking up the punk (and beer) and it was so great to get to "come home" to him. The first hour is always awkward because we're like just staring at each other and continually saying, "I can't believe you're here". But then we fall right back into place where we left off the last time. So we drank that night and just spent time being near each other.

Friday morning, I took the punk to school and we went to go sell my wedding dress to this girl (who was a total bitch considering the deal I was giving her). There are no Jack in the Boxes anywhere near where Ghost lives, so I knew I wanted to take him there. We went and we porked the fuck out. Seriously. It was bad. Then Petite Gamine drove up from San Diego with her beautiful new baby Ava. It was so good to see her, and she and Ghost were happy to see each other again too. She brought him some placenta pills...like from her placenta. I got grossed the fuck out and wanted to vomit.

Friday evening my friend LBJ and her boyfriend Christian came up from San Diego too and we all hung out and drank some beers and talked about the cum sharts. You know, like when someone cums in you ass and then you're sharting out poopy cum. Yeah.

Saturday we went to my cousin's birthday party and he got to meet some more of my family, which was cool. It was at the roller skating rink and we basically holed up in the snack bar and ate a shit load of jalapeno covered nachos. Afte we were supposed to met up with Lisa, but it didn't work out this time. We had to go do a family thing and it didn't leave much time after she got out of work, so we figured it wasn't really worth her driving down. We went to the family thing which was boring, and then after we went down to my friend Steph and Brent's.

We got good and drunk and I convinced Ghost to stay for one more day (yay!). We spent the night there and stayed until like 2 in the afternoon on Sunday, drinking mimosas. We went to dinner at my mom's house last night. That bitch hates me. And Ghost too, apparently. I don't have many things in life that I dislike, but I do have a few and those are (in no particular order) ham, casserole and pie. Now Ghost, hates the majority of "white foods" such as mayo, ranch, etc. So what does she make? A mother fucking casserole that is completely white. Like, it's loaded up with cream of mushroom soup, sour cream and white cheeses. And...it's a casserole. So we both suffered through that and were looking forward to dessert. It's pie. That skank hates me.

Ghost got a late start this morning and I feel bad for him, but he shouldn't get home too late.

I will miss the regular cock, the hair pulling, the ass smacking, him poking me in the ear, trying to force his fingers into my mouth, and yes Ghost, even you licking the palm of my hand. Fucker.

Oh, one more thing to look forward to for all of you? We got some very disturbing pictures of me in a giant make-shift diaper. Yep.

I need to buy better razors...or shave more.

2009-03-19T09:18:00.000-07:00

When you don't have a man around all the time, you tend to avoid certain things. Like shaving. I haven't had the money to go visit the beautiful Formerly Fun for another session of "bad little jew, I'll rip the fur off of you", so I've been left with shaving. I've shaved twice now since the last time in saw GoK in mother fucking January. And that doesn't just go for my vag, it goes for my legs as well.

So in an effort to be as smooth as humanly possible, I waited to shave until this morning's shower. I can officially say I need a new razor and my bathroom looks like an ape was murdered in the tub. But you know what? I will have the smoothest mother fuckin body on earth tonight when my fiance strolls into town.

What are your plans for this weekend? Our weekend will actually be somewhat busy. Petite Gamine is coming up tomorrow with baby Ava so that we can all kick it for a bit. Then Saturday, we have to go to my niece's birthday party so GoK can meet my "fun family". Then Lisa will be driving down Saturday evening to have a drink with us. Not to mention all the ass sex, blow jobs, and tongueing of the bung.

Blah, Blah, Blah

2009-03-18T09:06:00.000-07:00

I'm still drunk. Seriously.

Might I offer a piece of advice to the masses? Do not text with your FMIL when you're hammered. True story. It's never a good idea. I did it last night and it ended with me passing out and her saying something about not knowing she had that affect on people. Oh, but bonus for me...when I'm drunk, I'm very loving and I called her mom. She was VERY pleased with that. Thank god we didn't talk wedding plans, because I would have probably said yes to the linen dress she's been trying to push on me.

Also? I have been emailing with FMIL # 3 for the past 2 days. Yesterday she ended her final email of the day with a rant about Obama and being a liberal. I know I don't talk much about my politicol views, but let me just say, I did NOT vote for Obama, nor am I a liberal or a democrat. So I wrote her back and let her know I was not an Obama lover. Ghost says I will be mocked and publicly flogged forever. Great.

Well, I hope the rest of you fuckers are either drunk like me, or hung the fuck over. Happy day after, bitches.

Do you leak urine?

2009-03-17T09:10:00.001-07:00

There is a billboard on the side of the freeway that I see every morning on my drive to work. It's actually only been up for about 3 weeks and every time I drive by it, I giggle a little and then think, who does that?

It says, "DO YOU LEAK URINE?" and there's a picture of a spigot. Really? Who the fuck leaks urine?

I mean sure, if you tickle me too much, or I sneeze too hard or run with a full bladder, I'll piss myself a little. Most women who have gone through child birth do. But I certainly wouldn't consider myself someone who leaks urine. I mean, that's a fucking horse of a different color right there.

It got me to thinking...how much of the population does in fact, leak urine?? There's obviously some market for it, or this company wouldn't put up a huge billboard about treatment for it. Also, companies like Depends would probably be out of business. But really? I think Depends are more for old people than they are for people with leaking urine.

Do you piss yourself? Do you have a bladder that could hold 16 pounds of pee? Tell me about your weak or iron clad bladder?

My bi-polar love machine

2009-03-16T09:44:00.000-07:00

My little punk is the sort of child that no mother should get for a "first child". Don't get me wrong, I love this child more than life itself and if I was given the opportunity to go back in time and have a different child, I wouldn't. She is just constantly testing me.

When she was a baby, she didn't do anything I wanted her to do. I would feed her a bottle and then spend 30 minutes trying to burp her and I'd get nothin. Then, I'd hand her off to someone else and the second they patted her back, buuuurp. One month after I had her I turned 21 and it was my lifelong dream to go to Vegas for my 21st birthday. My mom agreed to watch her for one night, so my friend LBJ and I jumped in my car and drove to Vegas. My punk slept through the entire night for my mom. She didn't do that for me until she was like 10 months old.

She is constantly testing my patience and driving me insane and then bam! she's the sweetest thing on planet earth and all she wants is to be next to her mommy. And I love her bi-polar ass.

This weekend was a perfect example of my bi-polar child. The punk had her BFF Kaitlyn over for a sleepover.

The two of them were off playing and were in a great mood, loving each other. I took them out to dinner and then once we came home, they decided to watch a movie together and go to bed. I get them all set up in my big bed, give them hugs and kisses and wait for the inevitable. About an hour later, I had just gotten on the phone with Ghost and I hear crying. I go in there and my punk is hysterical because her BFF was hogging the blankets and pulling them, which made them "choke her". The punk wanted an apology. So I suggested that they both apologize and then I said I would apologize too. My punk says, "you didn't do anything mom" and then I said, "well, this morning I farted in your cereal". Wow. You would have thought I shot her fucking dog. I need to learn to keep my mouth shut. 10 minutes later they were laughing and playing.

The next morning, they built a fort and were fighting about where the entrance was. Then her BFF bonked her head on the counter pretty hard and I listened from my bedroom to my sweet little angel punk, gently and sweetly say to her friend, "come here. Come on, let punk see. Oh, that hurts, here, there's a kiss for it. Want me to rub your back?" The compassion that my girl felt really touched my heart.

Then, while at Target she was helping me pick out some shirts and she asked what size; S, M or L? I told her M. A bit later she says,

Punk: Mom, what does M stand for?

Me: Medium.

Punk: *stands up in the cart and hugs me* Oh mommy, I'm so sorry.

Me: Uhhh, why?

Punk: Because you're fat. Medium is fat mom.

Like I said, sometimes I want to hug her, other times I want to ship her off to join the circus.

Punish me you fat sack!

2009-03-13T09:35:00.001-07:00

I think my work is punishing me. I'm not entirely sure why, but I get the distinct feeling that they are. Take this for example. They've stuck me at a mobile home park in the meth capital of California for 2 days. One of my employees that I manage is having surgery (on his balls, hehehe) and they need me to fill in. This mobile home park is 50 miles from my house. So I have to drive all the fucking way up here and then drive all the fucking way back down to my house for 2 days. The only bonus? I get gas mileage paid at .50 per mile. Not too bad.

It's always hard to go work somewhere else and use someone else's things. For instance, his keyboard is not my keyboard. It's located somewhere else, at a level that I'm not comfortable typing at. It's on one of those trays that pull out from under the desk. Also, his mouse is on this tray as well and the mother fucker keeps falling down onto the floor because I'm a retard. Also? I know that my office, my command central, can watch me on the cameras here and that's a little creepy. What if I want to pick my nose or scratch my crotch and I forget that they're watching me and now they're all sitting around the Christ Loving Jew's computer, eating popcorn and watching me go to town on my crotch rot?

The other reason I think they're punishing me is because I am the lease liked person at this park. True story. The residents fucking hate me. Why? Because I'm the whore that sends them rent increases and special charges, and I'm the asshole who tells them no, they can't build that 4 foot fence to keep their neighbor's creepy eyes off of them. That's me. I deal with these people everyday and I have to be the asshole. It's what I'm good at. But don't then put me face to face with these people! I mean, Jesus, way to throw me into the fucking lion's den!

I am seriously thinking about taking up a meth habit just so that I can fit in with these people. Just give me a glass pipe and something to clean.

9 More Days!

2009-03-11T09:05:00.000-07:00

GoK will be here in 9 more friggen days!!! I can't wait. You know who else is pretty excited today? J over at I'm A Trouble Maker. Her husband comes home today too. He's in the Army and he's been gone a looooong time. She's been having a rough time lately too with a sick family member, so this is just what my little cockholster needs!

I had something else I wanted to post about today, but I was asked nicely to please not post it. So I won't. For now.

I felt like quite the asshole this past weekend. You see, I had been emailing all of my bridesmaids (a lot, I admit it) and there was one I hadn't heard back from like, at all. So Saturday I sent her a bunch of texts asking if she was mad at me, etc. Well, when she didn't respond, I turned into a texting bitch. I was like, "If you're fucking mad at me, grow up and tell me, quit ignoring me". And she did. Later that night she called me and this was our convo:

LBJ: Hey, I had a bunch of weird texts from you. Are you smoking crack again?

Me: NO! What the fuck is up with you? Do you even want to be in my wedding? You don't respond to any fucking emails, and then you don't fucking text me back at all?

LBJ: Dude, I just got off of a plane. I've been in Wales for 10 days. My grandad died.

Me: *crickets* Ummmm, wow, I feel like an asshole.

LBJ: Well, you are an asshole.

Me: Yep.

So yeah... I think I need to take it easy for a bit, LOL.

I violated myself.

2009-03-10T09:49:00.001-07:00

My apartment complex recently got a new on-site management team. Apparently it was discovered that our previous slumlord was in fact, a slumlord. The new managers moved in about a month ago and since I work in the property management field, I figured I would give them a little bit to settle in before I hit them with my "problems". I'm so nice, right?

So 2 Saturday's ago, the punk decided that she wanted to go sell lemonade to the neighbors. We made a pitcher, got some cups, and set out to rip off some strangers. I had the thought that in case my punk wasn't cute enough to get some money, that we would take my mom's dog Bella with us and that was guaranteed money in my pocket. The first house we hit up, was the new manager's. Boy was that a mistake. Lisa, the new manager is, for lack of a better word, one wordy bitch. I mean, any time you talk to her, you're guaranteed to be stuck for at least an hour. I told her about some of the issues I have, one of which is a 2 foot crack in the ceiling over my punk's bed.

Fast forward to this past Friday, Lisa calls and tells me that she will be coming into my house this morning to take a look at my ceiling. Fine. Let me also say, that I never lock my front door. Unless it's from the inside. But when I leave my house, it stays unlocked. Why? Because I don't have a fucking key. I was never given one by the previous manager. Yep.

So I get home Friday evening, I am sans punk (she's at her dad's for the weekend) and I am looking forward to a "girls night out", minus the going out and other people. Imagine my surprise and horror when I go to open my door and the mother fucker is locked. Realization washes over me that I have to go talk to wordy bitch Lisa in order to get my door opened. I go down and explain to her what's going on. She talks for an hour while I stand there in my heels and work clothes, holding my 40 pound purse and wedding planning binder (yes I have a binder, blow me). An hour later, I escape with her master key. Freedom at last. But wait...the master key won't open my mother fuckin door! FUCK!

I go back, get another key, get sucked into another 45 minute conversation, go to my door and try the new set of keys. NOPE! Don't work either. Go back...

Lisa: OMG, how weird! Well baby girl, you'll just have to stay here tonight and have some drinks with Lisa, and we can watch TV all night and talk!

Me: Uhhhh, actually, I left my bedroom window open, I could try and rip off the screen and crawl through!!!

Yeah, no fucking way was I staying there! I would have gone to a mother fucking hotel before I did that shit. So here's what I did...

I broke into my own home. I cut open my screen, and crawled through my bedroom window like a burglar, all the while, my cats are looking at me like this is the greatest entertainment ever. Oh, also? Sports Guy (my ex) walks by while my ass is hanging out of the window and says, "what the fuck are you doing". Oh, just trying to liven up my evening...

I feel like I've been violated...by myself. So now, not only do I not have a key to my apartment, but I also don't have a screen, or a window that locks. Wanna come rape me in my sleep?

Are you people fucking retarded?

2009-03-06T09:20:00.001-08:00

I have a bit of a rant today. I'm sure most of you are familiar with the site Ask and Ye Shall Receive. That's where I actually met Ghost. I also got a review there and much to my shock, it was an awesome review.

The reviewers there are very up front about who they are (bio), what they expect before you submit (FAQ), what they deem to be good, mediocre and bad blogs (rated section). And with a URL like i will fucking tear you apart, you shouldn't be looking for fucking puppies and kittens when you go there.

Having said all of that, I am amazed and blown away by the people who submit their blogs for review over there and then when they get a bad review, they bitch and moan about it and say retarded things like, "you didn't even give me a fair review" or "I don't care what you think about my blog". Obviously you do care what the reviewers think of your blog! You fucking submitted it for review! Just because you got a bad one, or not the one you were hoping for does not give you the right to make up excuses and justify your review by saying that it's their fault, they didn't read your blog.

I don't really have a point here, I just felt the need to rant. I think that Ask does a great service for the interwebs and I just wish people would put their fucking big girl panties on, and accept their lashing!

Someone bring me a martini.

Make it stop!

2009-03-04T09:02:00.000-08:00

Last night I was texting with my future mother in law. We were talking about what she'll be doing on her upcoming vacation and just some other things. GoK and I are going to her house (in TX) for Easter with both of our kids, so the FMIL and I were also talking about that.

Now, for a few days GoK and I have been talking about the sleeping arrangements. He has been saying, "don't worry, we'll get to sleep together", while I on the other hand am not so sure of that. The FMIL is a Christian woman and I can't imagine that she will let us sleep in the same room in her home. I've been telling GoK that and he just keeps saying to not worry.

So I asked the FMIL last night if I needed to bring any pillows or blankets, and she wrote back and said no, that GoK and the Next Messiah would sleep in one room, me and the punk in another and then GoK's sister on the pull out couch.

Fuck.

So I wrote something back like, "Oh, ok. Well, I'm just happy to come down so I'll sleep wherever you put me". I was trying to make this conversation stop. I forwarded the text to GoK and with a big fat, "Tolja" and then a second later, I get this from the FMIL, "I'm still old fashioned enough to offer you and GoK seperate bedrooms till after the wedding even though you may have already shared that experience".

My jaw dropped to the floor. MAKE IT STOP! No talking about "sharing that experience" for the love of god! I wanted to burn my eyes and then possibly my phone. I forward to GoK and he writes back, "STOP RESPONDING! ABORT MISSION!" But I can't just stop texting, that would be rude!!!

Thank god I quickly changed the subject and got her off of that topic! It was horrid though and now I'm in the shitty position where I don't get to fuck my fiance while I'm in TX. So we'll be taking a lot of "late night walks" apparently.

Kill me now.

Hey, you're not my daughter...

2009-03-03T10:03:00.000-08:00

I think in the middle of the night some aliens came down from Uranus (yours, not mine) and took my daughter's brain and replaced it with another, more well behaved child's brain.

My punk woke me up this morning by giving me a kiss. Doesn't sound too odd, right? Wrong. First of all, this child never wakes up first on a school day. I always have to wake her up and let me tell you, she is NOT a morning person. It takes me on average, about 15 minutes to wake her up. Every.Day. Then, once she is up, it's a careful dance of "let's not piss off the 6 year old by even breathing". My very exisetence annoys her in the mornings. So to be awoken by a kiss...I knew something was up.

Even after the kiss, I expected things to take a turn for the worse. So I was cautious. When I came out to the living room and carefully asked her what she wanted for breakfast, she said "get the menu". The same menu that just the day before, she had smeared (it's a white board) all the words off of and thrown across the room because the days weren't in an order of her liking. Sorry babe, I can't change the days of the week.

She ate, and then she came into the bathroom where I was getting ready and hugged me, kissed me, told me she loved me and asked the most glorious sentence on earth. "Is there anything else I can do for you this morning"? WTF?!?!?

So when I very apprehensively asked her to brush her teeth, and her response was, "yes ma'am", I knew something was up.

ME: What do you want???

Punk: Nothing mommy, I just want to make you happy.

ME: But what are you expecting to get out of this?

Punk: I don't understand...

If she's still like this after I get home from work tonight, I'm taking her to the doctor.

It was a wild weekend

2009-03-02T09:36:00.000-08:00

My weekend went WAY too fast.

I took Captain Fat Sack back to the vet on Saturday. He was not getting better, and was starting to lose hair in clumps, plus he was licking it and scratching it. I got the office visit fee waived, and Cpt. Fat Sack got some more meds and a nice cone to wear around his neck.

Saturday the punk and I went down to her bff's house. It was Brent's birthday and we partied like rockstars. Seriously. His sister was there and I had never met her before. She had these huge new fake boobies and I was like an eleven year old boy, staring... We talked at great lengths about her boobs and then she let me feel them. What a nice gal.

I made everyone shotgun beers and we did about 10 shots of tequila. Around 11 Steph kicked us all out, so we went to the neighbors to continue the party. I woke up on the neighbor's couch with him trying to stick his tongue down my throat. I got up and went back to Brent & Steph's. But the door was locked. So I crawled through the mother fucking doggy door. That's right. I got stuck a little too, but I was NOT going to spend the night over at creepy neighbor's.

Woke up the next morning, started with bloody mary's and mimosa's and was drunk by 11 am. Came home last night, went to bed and now I'm hung the fuck over. Plus, I have 3 auctions to attend today for work.

Someone kill me.

Poor Captain Fat Sack

2009-02-26T09:18:00.000-08:00

My poor Captain Fat Sack. He's still sick, with some fucking problem on his back. It's terrible! When I took him to the vet a few weeks ago, they prescribed his meds to him, and I did my best to give them to him. He hid a lot though, so he did miss some doses. He seemed to have gotten a lot better, but now as of last night, he's not doing well again.

He is losing clumps of hair, and his back is bleeding and pussing. I'm giving him the rest of his meds, but I know he's going to have to go back to the vet, and I just can't afford it. I'm so stressed about it, that I slept like fucking shit last night.

Plus, my punk woke up at 3:30 this morning and got mad at me because she didn't have enough room in my bed. Her skinny ass was the one that was hogging all the damn space too. If I would have scooted over like she wanted, I would have been laying on the floor. But she refused to see that she was claiming the majority of the bed.

Then, after I went back to sleep, I had a horrible dream about the punk, that I don't even want to talk about. But now I can't escape the feeling that something bad is going to happen to her.

So yeah, I am tired. And retarded. Fuck off.

You're dealin with the whole enchilada

2009-02-24T09:13:00.001-08:00

Perhaps you've already read what I'm blogging about today, here. But I have more details and I'm throwin' em out there!

Last week, Jennerific, her hot boyfriend Daweski and I were twittering up a storm about Vegas. More specifically, my bachelorette party. I wanted Daweski to strip and Jennerific was going to facilitate that for me. We started talking terms and deciding exactly what I wanted out of this. We finally agreed that Daweski would wear a banana hammock with a shamrock on it, so that I could get lucky.

Then Daweski comes straight out of left field and says he wants to get all kinds of Brokeback Mountain on my fiance.

Not wanting to throw a wrench in my Daweski stripping plans, I agreed to his terms without consulting my fiance. I of course later informed Mr. Hooker of this, and he agreed to my terms as well. He says he's willing to "give one for the team". He's not interested in being a catcher, only a pitcher. He feels this will strengthen our ties with our Canadian neighbors. I agree.

So if you're coming to Vegas for our wedding, don't forget to make a ridiculous amount of comments re: Brokeback Mountain.

You complete me!

2009-02-23T09:21:00.000-08:00

I had the weirdest coincidence happen to me this weekend.

Remember that episode of Friend's where Joey meets his "hand twin"? Ghost, I know you know which one I'm talking about cause you're the biggest Friend's fan on earth. You know a remarkable amount about Friend's and Sex and the City, for being a non homo. Anyway. In that episode of Friend's, Joey meets a guy who has the exact same hands as him and he's convinced that he can make a ton of money. Well, I met my "wedding twin". That's right.

The hooker had to work on Saturday, up at one of our storage facilities that's in bum fucked Egypt. Actually, it's right around the corner from Lisa's house. There was a new girl working this facility, which is why I had to work, because there was no one else available to work with her, and she couldn't be left alone yet. I wasn't looking forward to this, because I don't work Saturday's. Ever. Plus, I knew this girl was like 20, and I really wasn't in the mood for some girl to try and be-friend me. This was cutting into my time with PetiteGamine.

We were doing the usual small talk, and then the following conversation took place between Wedding Twin and I...

Me: That's a pretty ring, are you engaged?

WT: Yeah.

Me: Oh, me too!

WT: *looks at my finger, sees no ring* That's exciting, when are you getting married?

Me: August 15th!

WT: Shut up!!! Me too!!!! Have you gotten your dress yet?

Me: Well, I don't have it yet, but I have picked it out. Here, let me show you *go to website and pull up the dress*

WT: Shut up! That's MY FUCKING DRESS!!!

Me: Umm, creepy! How many bridesmaid's are you having?

WT: 5

Me: ME TOO!!!!!

WT: What are your colors?

Me: Red, black and white. You?

WT: Get the fuck out of here.

Me: Dude, we're wedding twins.

It was the weirdest fucking thing ever.

In other news, I got a phone call from the FMIL yesterday asking when Ghost was coming out next. I told her, and she told me that she and her hubs wanted to come too cause she had some vacation that week. Super. I tell Ghost, he's cool with them coming for one day, and so am I. THEN, I get a phone call from FFIL (future father in law) who I only talked to once and the conversation did not go well because he's basically deaf. But it went fine yesterday, we talked for 45 minutes. Actually, let me re-phrase that. HE talked for 45 minutes.

So yeah. 2 weeks from now, I will be fucking my fiance sideways and visiting with his parents. Hopefully not at the same time.

I'm not mormon!

2009-02-20T09:05:00.000-08:00

Dear Father (aka, Cotton Headed Ninny Muggin),

Fuck you for suggesting that I wear a wedding dress that will cover my tattoos. What do you think I am, mormon?

Don't you think that if I were concerned about my tattoos showing, that I would be exclusively looking for a wedding dress that does in fact have sleeves?

Also, thanks for calling me last night to "smooth things over". What's that? You don't like that I screamed at you for an hour and a half, yelling things like, "you don't fucking listen"? Too bad. You probably didn't hear me anyway.

Keep this shit up dad, and you're not coming to the wedding. Also, I meant what I said last night when I told you, "keep that drunken hell beast wife of yours away from me at the wedding, and if she shows up in anything where her boobs are popping out, or her ass is showing, she will be asked to leave by hotel security". I don't make idol threats, dickhead.

Love,

Your mute daughter.

Dear GoK,

Thank you so much for telling your mom to ask me what the sultry bag was. I really loved getting off the phone with my dad, all choked up with tears running down my face and seeing the following text from your mother: "saw the wedding website - looks great. One question: what's a sultry bag".

Thank you so much. What an uncomfortable conversation to have. Especially after she wrote back and said she looked up "sultry" in the dictionary and it means, hot, erotic and oppressive.

It truly is no wonder why I love you.

Love,

Your hot, erotic and oppressive fiance.

I'll show you my privates.

2009-02-19T09:02:00.000-08:00

Yes. I'm public again, as is Mr. Hooker. What happened? Is that what you're asking? I'll tell you. I've been wanting to go public again for quite some time. I keep bringing it up to Ghost and asking what he thinks, and he just kept saying, "you can do whatever you want babe, but I'm staying private". I didn't think it was very fair to him to go public if he wasn't going to, because one of the reasons we both went private was because his baby mamma and my Future Mother In Law were reading. So last night, after we each took quite a few shots and had quite a few drinks, we're having a normal conversation, and then this happens:

GoK: I want to go public!

Me: YOU DO?!?!? ME TOO!!!!!!

GoK: Mother fucker, I'm doing it right now!

Me: Ooooh, do me too! Release my privates!

And that's that. I don't really care who reads. If my baby daddy wants to read, whatever. If Ghost's baby mamma wants to read, whatever.

I'm showing my privates and I don't care who looks!

I did it! I discovered how to travel into the future!

2009-02-18T09:04:00.000-08:00

Well peeps, the title of this post says it all. I've discovered how to travel into the future. It's actually much simpler than you may think. All you have to do is get on a plane and fly to Australia. I mean, they're a whole day ahead of us. This got me to thinking a few weeks back, and inevitably led me to ask my fiance yet another stupid fucking question. You all remember the one from a few months back about the moon right? I asked him if the moon in CO was full like it was here in CA? Right. I'm pretty sure that was the exact moment he knew he wanted to marry me. But enough about that.

I got to thinking...

Do they know what happens on American Idol before me?

If I go there and get a tattoo and then come home, will I still have the tattoo since really, it didn't happen yet?

If everyone in Australia died from some freak virus (hello, Resident Evil) will the rest of the world ever really know?

I mean, just think about it. This crazy virus sweeps the country, killing off everyone and then turning them into zombies. We would never find out because they're in the future.

Florida Girl in Sydney, you're such a lucky whore to get to live in the future!

Being a better negro

2009-02-17T09:24:00.000-08:00

My fiance has informed me that I'm not a good negro. Apparently it's Black History Month and I'm just a big, fat, naughty negro! He says the only black thing I've done all month is call in sick to work. Of course I responded with, "hey, I ate fried chicken last week". But apparently, that's just not enough.

So, in an effort to be more 'black', I removed one of the rims from my car this morning. I know it's a small step, but it's just one of many that I will be taking in order to honor my fellow brotha's and sista's this month.

I'm also going to be saying things like, "that's whack" and "oh no you di'nt". I'm pretty much just going to try and be the best negro that I can be.

Tonight, I'm making greens, fried chicken and watermellon. Tomorrow morning, my punk will have chicken and waffles for breakfast.

I'm also calling around to some dentists to see if my insurance will cover a shiny new grill.

I want to be all that I can be this month.

So with that, I leave you with this: asalamalekum

The less fortunate are such good entertainment.

2009-02-12T09:19:00.000-08:00

I did a guest review over on Ask today. Go check it out!

I know that a few weeks ago, I left a comment about Ryan Seacrest high fiving the blind guy on American Idol. That was hilarious. I mean, come on Ryan...he doesn't know your hand is up.

The night before last, I was again wasting valuable moments of my life watching this show and the blind guy was singing his solo with his keyboard. During his solo, Paula Abdul stood up and gave him a standing ovation.

After, when they did his little interview, blind guy says the following:

"Someone just told me that Paula gave me a standing ovation, I didn't see that but that must mean I was good."

Blind guy, let me clue you in on something. You're blind. Of course you didn't see her give you the standing ovation. You are unable to see, hence the meaning of being blind. Is this news to you?

Well, in any case it was great entertainment for me and I literally laughed until I peed myself. Maybe I was drunk so it was funnier, but who cares. Thank you blind guy.

Valentine's, Schmalentine's

2009-02-11T09:07:00.000-08:00

Since Valentine's Day is around the corner, I thought I would tell you all about why I don't celebrate this ridiculous holiday. I've had some bad experiences with Valentine's Day and I just give up.

The first in a series of bad Valentine's Day's, was of course my stalker. If you haven't read that story, then click on the link and read it. But I figured after that situation, I would would give it a shot.

The next was with my ex boyfriend Ted. He was the first boyfriend I had after having the punk and we had been together for about 6 months. About a week and a half before Valentine's Day, Ted came over and brought me on of those retarded teddy bears holding a heart with a silk rose in it's hand, and a small mylar balloon. I was like, WTF? It's a week early. So I ask him about it and he tells me that he is going rock climbing with all of his friends for Valentine's weekend, so he won't be around and he thought he would give me my gift now. I would honestly have preferred to have nothing. That bear was stupid and every time I looked at it, I got pissed off that he was choosing to spend a romantic holiday with his guy friends.

The last and final experience was with my ex that I was going to marry. We had been together a year and it was our first Valentine's Day together. He had been on the road for 3 months and was coming home. I was expecting an engagement ring and he had eluded to the fact that that's what I would be getting. Imagine my surprise when I opened up my gift and it was $50 in Del Taco dollars. Truly the gift that keeps on giving.

So Valentine's Day, I'm done with you. The only thing I'm willing to do is buy Valentine's for my punk to give out and buying a card for my fiance (which I did). I'm ok with getting a card, but I want nothing else.

So this year cupid, I say fuck you.

All the bitches love the hooker

2009-02-10T10:12:00.000-08:00

I'm sorry that I left you all hanging on how it went with the FMIL yesterday, but I was stuck in a cave of ass stench. The pirate punk was sick. I picked her up from her dad's on Sunday evening and he told me that she had vomited on Friday and Saturday, but that she was feeling better. We went over to her cousin's house to play for a bit and so that I could see my sister in law's new hooters. They're good. We went home and the piratey punk kept 'breaking wind' with quite the offensive odor escaping from her adorable little bottom.

After I had put her to bed, about an hour later she calls me into her room to ask me something. I opened the door and was assaulted with the stench of ass. It was horrid people. She even tried to dutch oven me. Her own mother. Anyway, the next morning she was feeling shitty (literally) so we stayed home. My nose will never be the same again.

Anyway, on to the FMIL. Things went great! She loves me. Seriously. We did dinner Friday night with my mom and step dad, and then the FMIL and I went back to her hotel room and had some wine and conversation. I got hit pretty hard with a lot of questions and her telling me that she would greatly prefer that I move out to CO and rent my own place while we continue to date for 6 months, and then get married. She also told me that she would greatly prefer that we do not get married in Las Vegas.

I got her drunk and she gave me some kisses and tried to convince me to sleep over. I went home about 12:30 am. The next morning she was going to be leaving. Her original flight was for 9am, but she decided to catch the later flight at 1pm.

I met up with her at the hotel and we had breakfast together. I was hit with more questions, most of which were about my blog and why I would refer to myself as a Dirty Pirate Hooker. Fuck. I drove her back to the airport and she hasn't stopped text messaging me since.

So yeah...you could say it went pretty well!

Mexico City, Mexico?

2009-02-06T09:20:00.000-08:00

We drove to the hotel to pick up the Future Mother In Law last night. My mom, the punk and I filed out of the car and ran through the rain up to her room. She opened the door and I was surprised. She didn't look like I thought she would. She invited us in, gave the punk a very cute gift and had us sit down in her little sitting area. She talked to the punk and asked her questions about her day. My mom suggested 3 places to go and eat and the FMIL asked the punk where she wanted to go. Pei Wei (chinese food). So off we went.

In the car ride there, my FMIL and mom did most of the talking. One subject that was brought up was where my FMIL grew up. This is the point where my mom said the stupidest fucking thing I have ever heard in my life.

FMIL: Well, I was born in Texas, but then my family moved to Mexico City, which is where I was raised.

Mom: Mexico City, Mexico???

I was in the back seat and could not quite believe my ears. I literally had to bite my tongue to not scream out, "no, Mexico City, Kansas, you fucking douche".

So we ate and my mom the FMIL did most of the talking. At one point my mom took the punk to the bathroom and I was left alone with the FMIL. It was horrible. Every fucking coherant throught in my brain flew out the second I was alone with her. I stuttered, I played with my bottle of water, I avoided eye contact... torture.

We drove her back to the hotel, and I got another hug. We're going back out tonight with her and this time there will be no punk, but my step dad will be joining us, which is good. Then after I'm afraid I'll be left alone with her, to get to the real heavy questions. Pray for me. I may not make it out alive. I'm ordering a margarita at the restaraunt because there is no reason I should have to do this without the assistance of alcohol.

On another note, my brother has decided that if he can't be a part of the wedding (his suggestions were flower girl or ring bearer...he's 29 years old) that he is going to come "in character". He's asked me to put it up on the blog and let my readers decide. Here are his ideas.

Truck driver with a fanny pack
Retard, licking windows in the pictures
Elvis
Roller Derby guy with shorts so short his balls are hanging out
Ron Burgundy from Anchorman

Update: My brother just informed me that I forgot some of his "character ideas". There was also Todd from the Wedding Crashers (the emo homo), Darth Vader, and Dumb and Dumber in the blue and orange tuxes.

Let me know your thoughts or if you have any other suggestions

New Hooters

2009-02-05T09:28:00.000-08:00

My beautiful sister in law, Gangsta Sarah got her hooter's done yesterday. She went under the knife for a little surgical enhancement to her bustal region. I for one, am jealous as a mother fucker. Bitch.

And I want to post the picture that she sent me of her new hooter's soooooo bad. But when she sent it to me last night, the subject line of the email was, "if you blog this, I'll kill you". She knows me so well.

Now, because I take everyone else's happiness and turn it into something that has to do with me, here's my problem; all of my bridesmaids at my wedding are now going to have bigger hooter's than me. The bride.

It's true. Gangsta Sarah is gonna have tig 'ol bitties, Sahara has her porn star boobs, Lisa has her magnificent mammaries, LBJ is going to be the closest in size to me, but they're still much bigger and then I have my lovely Petite Gamine who already has huge knockers, but combined with the baby juice they'll be full of, will have even bigger knockers!

It's not fair!

I'm going over to see Gangsta Sarah's new hooters on Saturday after my future MIL leaves, and I intend to take pictures and get permission to post on the blog.

Stupid big boobied friends...

Silly Hooker, When Will You Learn?

2009-02-04T09:01:00.000-08:00

Good morning everyone, it is I, Lucifer. Although you may know me better as Captain Fat Sack. The Hooker gave me that ridiculous name and even got the demon seed child to start calling me that as well. Oh how I loathe that child with her constant need for my affections. If she puts me in one more choke hold while showering me with kisses and hugs, I will pee in her bathwater.

But I digress. I didn't come here today to talk about Elmira, rather I came to talk about my life as a captive and to introduce myself.

I have been in the Hooker's service for 9 years now. I've been through many residences and men with the Hooker. I've lived through the pot smoking, the cocaine snorting, the excessive alcohol intake, the mushrooms, the acid...you get the point. In all of my years, I've tried to escape rather frequently. I have such dreams of hitching a ride to the mother land and living out my days as an accountant's cat. But the bitch has gotten wiser in her years and is now excessively feeding me so that I no longer have the energy to lick my own balls for longer than 2 minutes at a time.

This week the Hooker has been in a mad frenzy, trying to clean her home for her imaginary fiance's mother. Her alcohol consumption has doubled and she is constantly on the go, picking up this, putting away that. In an effort to show her that her attempts at cleaning are a waste of time, I threw up on 4 different areas of the carpet yesterday while she was out at work. Oh the joy I feel when she comes home and screams, "mother fucker" after seeing my masterpiece. Even though she cleaned it up right away and all traces are gone, I still have such satisfaction in knowing that it took time away from her getting other things around this hell hole cleaned.

Well readers, I'm off to get some pussy from these 2 whores that live in the home. I'm not very keen on the chubby one they call Princess. But that Lilly is one smokin' piece of tail.

Is that fear I smell?

2009-02-03T09:10:00.000-08:00

I am freaking out people. That's right, freaking the fuck out! Why, you ask? I'll tell you.

Last night I see that I have a missed call, I look to see who it is, and it's GoK's mom. I listen to her message and it says basically that she is calling to find out when a good time to come out and meet my mother and I. Crap. So I flip out a little (a lot), call GoK screaming and in a state of utter panic. He calms me down the best that he can and says, "hey, at least it's not this weekend. She's done that before". I get home, I make a stiff drink, down it and decide I'm ready to call her back. I send GoK a text and say, "I'm going in, I'm calling" to which he responds, "stay strong soldier". Then, the greatest thing ever...I get her voicemail. Sweet reprieve.

Not for long...

She calls back and we're chatting while I'm cooking dinner and downing shots of vodka. Here's the conversation...

FMIL (Future Mother In Law) also, a little background, she works for the airlines and can get free flights on stand by.

FMIL: Well I was looking at flights and it looks like there's really good availability for this Thursday. Would that work?

Me: Oh, um, yeah...Thursday is ok...

FMIL: Oh good. Can you reccommend any hotels in the area?

Me: *utter panick* um, well not really. I'm not entirely familiar with what's around. But my mom will be able to suggest some. Are you calling her back next?

FMIL: Yeah, I can just get that info from her. So I'll get that, look at rates and availability and let you know.

Me: Well, if there's nothing available, you're welcome to stay here with me. I'll warn you though, I have a one bedroom, but you could sleep in my bed and I'd be happy to sleep on the couch. *sticks fork in eye, takes another shot*

FMIL: Oh, how lovely, I would just love to stay with you. But only if you promise to let ME sleep on the couch.

So we hang up, I call GoK back...

Me: Well, she's coming on Thursday, staying at my house and insists on sleeping on the couch.

GoK: I told you to stay strong! That isn't strong! You caved woman, CAVED!

A bit later, my mom calls back and tells me basically what they talked about. One of those things would be that she'd like to suggest that I move to CO, get my own apartment and that GoK and I can continue to date for a while. Great.

Then, my mom calls back this morning and tells me that she made some other comments about her son, that were less than flattering.

I have a feeling I'm about to get bamboozled.

What the hell do I do people?

Wicked Wench's Pirate Crew

2009-02-02T09:32:00.000-08:00

Happy Monday fuckers, I'm sick.

You all remember the whole awkward silence that happened when my neighbor caught me stealing his newspaper, right? And I wasn't stealing it so that I could read it. I was stealing it to be a bitch because I hate him. Well, I don't believe in karma, but if I were tempted to start believing, this would throw me over the edge.

I went to the grocery store on Saturday morning with the punk and while we were there, she saw 2 of her friends from school. So she was in a good mood and I actually got to pay attention to what I was purchasing. I get up to the check out line and I see one of my neighbors. She lives in the apartment above and to the right of me. She's an older woman who wears a wig even though she doesn't actually need to wear a wig. She's just too lazy to do her hair. She comes up to me and says,

Wig Lady: Hey, I've been meaning to ask you something!

Me: Oh, what's up?

Wig Lady: Do you let your neighbor borrow your newspaper?

Me: Which neighbor? The one that lives under you (dickhead whose paper I was stealing)?

Wig Lady: No, the one who lives on the other side of you and always wears the long skirts and walks with her head down.

Me: Uh, no. Honestly, I don't even know why the newspaper is being delivered. I never ordered it. But no, I didn't tell her she could read my paper.

Wig Lady: Well! She comes over every morning really early, takes your paper and then brings it back about an hour later, all folded back up and in the bag!

Me: OMG, are you kidding me? She steals my paper and then brings it back?

So, being the mature woman that I am, I did the following when I got home.

And I threw it on her doorstep. Take that, motha fucka! So it will be interesting to see if she keeps them...

Oh, and the Christ Loving Jew has called a truce. She knew that if there wasn't a peace offering that I would decline said truce, so she brought me this flag for my office this morning.

We are once again, friends.

For now.

A Tale of Awesomeness

2009-01-30T07:00:00.000-08:00

The amazingly artistic and awesome Betsey Booms made a cartoon of an email between the 2 of us from the other day. I think it's fucking hilarious. She does not.

Enjoy...

My lovely list of ladies

2009-01-29T09:13:00.000-08:00

You all know that I love the ladies. Certainly not as much as I love men, but I do love me some ladies. So in keeping with my free pass ass list of men yesterday, I am now posting one of ladies. Now, I can't call this a free pass ass list, because honestly? If I wanted to hook up with a girl, Ghost would be like, "take pictures". So it's not really a free pass ass, it's more of an "I want to do you" list of ladies.

On to the bitches... And in no particular order.

Rachel McAdams. I love this bitch. She is so goddamn pretty.

Natalie Portman. I fell in love with little Natalie the first time I ever watched The Professional. Ever since then, I've seen pretty much every movie she's been in and I just want to hump her.

Holly Madison from the Girls Next Door. Could she be any freaking cuter???

Emmy Rossum. In case you don't know who this bitch is, she was in The Phantom of the Opera and The Day After Tomorrow. She has an amazing singing voice and she's just so naturally beautiful.

Anne Hathaway. You, my little Annie, are probably first on the list. If it were possible to make babies with you, I just might kidnap you, impregnate you and keep you prisoner in my home, forcing you to pump out baby, after baby.

How about you? Who's on your lady list?

Hey, wanna stick your dick in me?

2009-01-28T09:13:00.000-08:00

Ghost and I have agreed to have a 'free pass ass' list. In case you're not familiar with a free pass ass list, it's where you each come up with 5 people (usually celebrities) that you can fuck if the situation ever presented itself. So, for instance, if any of my 5 and I ever meet and we (mutually, no rape allowed) want to fuck, we can..and Ghost can't get mad. Obviously, he's allowed a list as well. I've been putting a good amount of thought into it lately, and here is my list, in no particular order.

Russell Brandt. Ok, I know he maybe doesn't look like the stereotypical 'hottie you have to fuck', but have you seen him in Forgetting Sarah Marshall? He's fucking hilarious. He is one of the main reasons that movie has achieved it's awesomeness status. I want to lay in a hammock with him, while he sings to me and does body shots off of my naked body, and then let him fuck me in the ass.

I know that this also might sound odd, but I believe that if this ever happened for me, Ghost would want to watch.

Anthony Kiedis. Ever since I was a little girl and I heard "Under the Bridge", I was hooked. Something about his voice just makes me cream. And this picture of him kissing Flea? Almost as hot as Scott Weiland kissing whatever guy he kissed.

I want Anthony Kiedis to suck my fucking kiss

Tyrese. Oh, Tyrese...you spicy piece of chocolate. I don't think I should go into too much detail on this one. My fiance might get weirded out by all the things I have to say about this fine mother fucker.

One thing though; Ty, if we ever do hook up can I cut your abs out and take them home as a souvenier?

Jonathan Rhys Meyers. You're just too fucking pretty for your own good. The only reason I watched that terrible movie, August Rush, was because of you! And when you played Elvis in that other movie? Jesus...

The Rock. I'm not going to elaborate on this one. You know why I love you, Rocky. You know that I spent countless hours of my life, dressed up in your memorabilia, screaming things that my TV like, "If you smellllllllllllllll, what the Rock, is cookin" and things like, "oh, motha fucka, you's about to get the people's elbow". You know that I got your tattoo on my arm, in the same place you have yours. You know that I spent $1200 on an autographed picture of you and that I spent another $350 on your beanie baby. I don't collect beanie babies. I'm just not that kind of girl. But I did it for you, Rocky. It was all for you.

You know I'm your number one stalker.

*Ahem* Sorry...I apparently had a creepy moment there.

So who's on your free pass ass list?

Captain Fat Sack Gets Kicked in the Ass

2009-01-27T07:00:00.000-08:00

I have decided to re-name my cat Lucifer. That name is no longer fitting. So I declare here and now, that he shall forever more be known as Captain Fat Sack.

You see, Capt. Fat Sack is what most people would call, morbidly obeise. He is 23 pounds of fluff, fat and jew. Oh yeah, I'm convinced he's jewish. Don't ask.

Capt. Fat Sack sort of waddles around the house, kicking the shit out of my 2 female cats, eating any and everything he can find, and drinking out of the toilet like a fucking dog. CFS is an expensive mother fucker to house too! I've put his fat waste of space through 2 surgeries at over $1,000 a pop and due to the last surgery, pay for his prescription cat food at $50 a bag. I can't help but love his tubby butt.

I remember the first time Ghost saw him. I thought he might actually piss himself. He really just couldn't get over how fucking obeise Captain Fat Sack is.

Anyway. Captain Fat Sack informed me last night that he will be hijacking my blog on a weekly basis and telling you about my life, through his eyes. Look for the 'oy vey's'...I'm sure there will be a few.

I must give credit to the lovely Betsey Booms for the awesome idea to have Capt. Fat Sack post. She is awesome, and her awesomeness makes me more awesome.

Let's all stone the whore!

2009-01-26T09:24:00.000-08:00

I have something to get off my chest this morning, but before I do I thought I would let everyone know about Petite Gamine's baby. She was born Friday at 3:12 pm weighing in at 8lbs 2oz and 20 in long. I won, mother fuckers! Oh, and congrats to you, PG. Love you, mamma!

So some of you may have wondered to yourself lately why I never talk about RHBS anymore. For most of you, this thought has not even crossed your mind. If you're a newer reader, RHBS was my BFF and used to comment frequently and I used to blog about her frequently, and our weekends together. Seriously. You can search my archives or something.

Well, RHBS and I are no longer friends. The past 2 years our friendship has been very different, but we knew that if we could just get back to where we were, that things would be fine. We just needed to find our groove again. Then some big things in RHBS' life happened, in regards to her family. Mostly her brother. I'm not going to say what those things are or were though because that's her personal business and even though we're not friends anymore, I still respect her privacy.

Those things that happened weren't the entire demise of our friendship though. There was a defining moment and that, I will share with you. One of the bad things about being a whore is that no one believes you when you say you didn't fuck someone. Why? Because you fuck everyone! Well, more than once in my lifetime I've been accused of sleeping with someone that I didn't sleep with. It's usually a friend of my friend's and we're all out partying. The guy will usually hit on me, or make a move and when I say that I'm not interested, the next morning he's told everyone that he hit it.

This has happened now 3 times with the RHBS. The first time was with this guy Curtis. Curtis was one of her exes friends who came from out of town. We all partied and were having a great time. RHBS and her ex went to bed, Curtis put the moves on me, I told him no. He was drunk and persistent, and I finally had to get firm with him, and tell him there wasn't a fucking chance on earth that I was hooking up with him. I had a boyfriend at the time. So a week later, RHBS asks if I'm going to see Curtis again. Uh, no...why would I? She informs me that we slept together. No we fucking didn't. Well, she never believed me. She will still bring it up to this day.

Second time, it was with this guy Bryan. Bryan was RHBS' brother's BFF and he was a marine. Also, RHBS and Bryan had a booty call arrangement a few years back. Bryan and I had been myspacing while we were bored at work for a few months and he invited me down to San Diego to go partying with him one weekend. I went and we had a really good time. We got back to his house, he put the moves on me, I said no. Same story as above. A year later, RHBS asks me if I fucked Bryan. I told her no and she said he's been telling her brother and everyone else. Great. She never believed me and still brings it up to this day, also adding Curtis as her ammo.

The third time, was my final straw. It was last month. We hadn't seen each other in a while and she invited me over for some Rockband and Rock N Bowl. One of her brother's friends, Rich came over to party. He was flirting with me all night, and I made it clear that I was engaged. RHBS pulls me aside and tells me that she really likes Rich, "just so I know". Ok...again...I'm engaged. I have no intention of hooking up with this guy. We get back to RHBS' house, we're all plastered and everyone decides to watch Step Brothers. Rich and I are on the couch, RHBS goes to bed and her brother and other friend who he was hooking up with that night, were on the other couch.

Now, if you've ever been with me when I'm drinking, you'll know that when I pass out...I pass the fuck out (Lisa, can I get an amen?). I mean, I would be the one who got eaten when the zombie's came because I was asleep. Anyway. I passed out on the couch and when I woke up the next morning, Rich was on the couch with me. Whatever. I continue on with my morning and hang out all day with RHBS. She asked if anything happened between us and I said no, of course not (which is the truth). So about a week later, she calls me up and asks again. I told her no, nothing happened. Well, apparently Rich and his little friend are saying that we kissed.

Big shocker...RHBS does not believe me, and throws Curtis and Bryan in my face saying, well, I don't know why all these people say stuff happened, when you say it didn't.

Because people fucking lie sometimes! Maybe they have a bruised ego because I said no, I don't fucking know. What I do know is that I would expect my BFF to believe me and stand by me, and stick up for me. But I didn't get that. It was my final straw, and I just stopped talking to her. She called for a few days leaving messages saying, why are you mad at me? Tell me what I did! And maybe I'm a pussy for not answering, but really? I just don't want to explain. It's not going to change her mind. She's still not going to believe me, and I just can't spend my time, energy and love on someone who can't take my word. I thought I meant more to her, but I guess I didn't.

So now I find myself BFF-less. And right before I get married, no less. So, I'm accepting applications.

My Mistress is Procreating!

2009-01-22T09:07:00.000-08:00

I know my fiance posted this today, but I was already going to before he beat me to it, the dirty jew! My BFF and Mistress, Petite Gamine is giving birth today! This makes baby number 4 for her and her husband, and it's their first girl.

She started having contractions last night and her mucus plug came out. Right now she is in labor and delivery, being induced. She texted me this morning and wanted me to take a guess on the time of delivery, the weight of her baby girl and the length. So I thought we could all take a guess!!!

My guess is 3:42 pm, 7lbs 9oz and 19 1/2 inches long. What's your thoughts???

Ahhhhhh, sweet release.

2009-01-21T09:05:00.000-08:00

It's J from I'm a Trouble Maker! DPH has to actually, you know, work today. So, here I am. She texted me a while ago and asked me to blog and of course I jumped on the chance. I mean, how often do you get to act out on a XXX-rated blog that is private even? Oh the joys!! I mean, I can come here and talk about drugs, anal, anything I want! Yippeeeeee!!!

When D and I met, it was totally just a one night stand. You know, young, dumb, need to get fucked. I went home with him and got a FULL body massage. Naked, oiled, warm. Hot. Of course I gave it up. Duh. What I wasn't expecting was to want it more. And more. And then more again.

The sex was hot as shit. We could be doing anything and then just look at each other and run downstairs together. Anytime day or night, we were gettin down. I was addicted. I'm not trying to brag, but you know how it is when you find the perfect match for you in bed. And that was D. He was perfect for me as a partner. And it wasn't just the sex either, you know?

There are some men out there who think that they are the shit, that every woman gets off every time. Not so, I say. I had never. ever. gotten off with a guy going down there. I thought I was just broken. I mean, I wasn't a prude, I had some really, REALLY good sex with some really hot sexy tattooed muscular steaming hot...where was I? Oh yes, I had really good sex, and they went down there, and I just never got it.

So when D went down there one night (and trust me, I remember that night. Always will) I thought that it would be boring. We had only been together a few days, so I wasn't about to hurt his feelings and tell him my crotch was broken and no matter what you did to it I wouldn't cum. I mean, I had to give him a shot, right? As I laid down I though "oh, yay.". Then the magic happened. I thought I was going to die! Holy shit! You mean? You can get OFF on that shit? OMG. I probably woke up the whole neighborhood with my writhing and moaning. D just laughed to himself and stuck with the task in front of him. He knew what he was doing. He was a god among men.

I sat up when he was done and looked at the insanely huge smile on his face and told him "I am going to marry you.".

Hey, there's always one good reason you stick around, isn't there?

Bridget Marquardt isn't the only good thing that's happened to Lodi

2009-01-20T11:40:00.000-08:00

Lisa and I went on a little road trip on Friday up to Central California. Lodi to be exact. We were going to Lisa's BFF's house, Kriszin. They've apparently been BFF's since before the start of creation and I (as you know) have only knows Lisa (in person) for a few months. The same with Kriszin. I met her through the blogs and knew that she was Lisa's BFF.

The trip there was long as fucking hell and I attempted to slit my wrists on multiple occasions, but was stopped, because Lisa's 13 year old daughter was in the backseat. We arrived around 12:30 am on Friday night. I immediately requested beer and dildo's. Kriszin used to do passion parties or some shit, so this was her left over stock. I saw and instantly loved, Chocolate Thunder. If you can't guess which one that is, it's the GIANT BLACK COCK.

The next day we hung out with Kriszin's adorable 6 year old son, who I wanted to take home and integrate into my own family. He was cute as fucking shit! We went shopping to find the perfect hoochie wear for our evening of drinking that lay before us. It was Kriszin's birthday celebration. We went to a restaraunt called Shangri La (sushi and chinese food, weird combo) and I made Kriszin get off of her diet and do a sake bomb with me.

Here we are, taking it like a couple of pro's.
After a shit load of food and drinks, we moved on to the bar! We went to a hole in the wall dive bar that had a DJ and booze. 2 important things when you're looking to get fucked up and do some dancing.

I motorboated Lisa

Kicked it with some drunk bitches (one of who is now a reader)

Motorboated one of the said bitches too. She had the biggest boobs I have ever seen. It was insane. There was no way I wasn't going to try and get lost in that mammary madness.
I also made out with some bitch named Angie. I don't know how that happened... After she says to me:

Angie: We should hang out!!!

Me: I live 6 hours away.

Angie: I don't fucking care, you're cool as hell! Take my phone number!

Me: Ok... (Like I'm ever going to call her)

We did like 10 shots of lemon drops, Alabama slammers, southern comfort, patron, etc. We were wasted. And took lots of pics.

We danced our fucking asses off too.

On our way home, we hit the drive through at Jack in the Box. Lisa was feeling queasy, so we hopped out of the car and walked back to Kriszin's while she waited in the drive through to get me some jalapeno poppers and mozarella sticks. I don't remember much at this point, but apparently I passed out on the couch, and Lisa threw up for a while. I woke the next morning and Lisa and I marvelled at our black feet. Kriszin got up and went to church. Drunk.

Kendra came over (she's a reader of mine and a high school friend of Kriszin and Lisa's) and we hung for a bit and then Kriszin's ex had us over for a BBQ. Then there was this...

Transformers in Lodi on Vimeo.

It was a really great weekend and I can't WAIT to go back!

Hooker's Think Deep Thought Too!

2009-01-19T10:15:00.001-08:00

I've noticed that a lot of people I've met lately have very large heads. I mean, really huge noggin's. This leads me to wonder the following things:

Are they smarter than the average person because their heads are so large? I mean, they have to have more brains to fill up all that space, so therefore, they should be smarter, right?
If they head butted me, would the force be greater?

How are they able to support the weight of this giant cranium? Are their feet bigger to balance that extra weight?

Do they have to special order hats and sunglasses to fit their mass?

These are the things that roll around in this hooker's head.

Tomorrow... Pics and stories from my wild and crazy weekend with Lisa and Kriszin. Trust me, you won't want to miss it.

Here's a few teasers.

Draw a line in the sand and pick a side.

2009-01-15T09:13:00.000-08:00

A war has been waged between the Christ Loving Jew and I. It's been a long time coming, really. Last night when I was assuming my duties as Maria, I noticed that the CLJ was cleaning out the fridge and had set out a bunch of boxes and other trash outside for me to take down. This pisses me off. I am the 'office bitch', not 'your bitch'. Do not stock pile your fucking trash and then set it out on the day that I clean, expecting me to take it down for you!

So I went over to her and told her that I wasn't her bitch and to take down her own fucking trash, I was tired of doing it for her. Some strong words were exchanged between us. I continued to go about my business though. A little bit later, she brings me an, "I can haz cheezburger" book and says, "you seem like you could use a laugh". Dirty bitch. I go to return it to her and I see that her entire fucking desk is all torn apart because she is putting away all of her Christmas and Hanukah decorations (hence, the Christ Loving Jew name). So I ask her how the fuck she expects me to be able to clean when she's making a bigger mess. I remind her that I'm once again, not her bitch.

She decides to leave for the day, but not before unleashing her bowels of fury into the toilet. Mother.fucker.

So I bided my time, waited for my other boss to leave, and then... Then I took her wireless mouse, and I wiped my vag on it. That's right. I wiped my hooker bits on her mouse. I also may or may not have wiped my vag on her pencil, pen, ruler, stapler and tape dispenser...

When she gets herpes on her hands, she will be pleasantly reminded just who started this fucking war...

Let's Make a Deal, Fucker.

2009-01-14T09:09:00.000-08:00

Ghost and I have decided that we will not be wedding at Treasure Island. The 'wedding coordinator' is a whore and has bad communication, plus it really doesn't seat as many people as we need. So yesterday, in addition to fighting via email with my baby daddy, I was scouring the Las Vegas strip (online, of course) and trying to find some more options. This was our discussion about it last night:

Me: Ok, well this package offers the minister, a wedding coordinator, a 'sultry bag' from the Flamingo Hilton...

GoK: Wait, they give you a sultry bag?

Me: Yeah. Anyway, it also comes with...

GoK: hehehe, sultry bag. Gimme my lube, bitches!

Me: Can we stay focused for a minute?

GoK: Yeah, sorry.

Me: Ok, so it comes with this, this and that. The next package comes with this, this...

GoK: Does it come with a sultry bag?

Me: Nooo...

GoK: Well then, we're not doing it. I need a sultry bag.

I'm sure you can imagine how the rest of the conversation turned out. Every opportunity to bring up this goddamn sultry bag, he took. I told him I wanted to poke him in the eye with a red hot poker and he asked if he could bludgeon me with a sultry bag. Another habit that the love of my life has, is that when I present a problem or obstacle in reference to our wedding plans, he says, "it will all work out". I was sick of hearing this. So I made a deal with him...

Me: Ok, I don't make rules often, you know this about me. But I have one now that I am enforcing.

GoK: Oh. Ok, what's up?

Me: You are no longer allowed to say 'it will all work out' in reference to our wedding anymore, ok?

GoK: Fine. But I have a rule as well.

Me: Bring it on, buttfucker.

GoK: You have to work 'sultry bag' into some conversation daily. If you don't, I get to say 'it will all work out'.

Me: Deal.

So people...this is day 1 of 'sultry bag'.

The Stamp is What Defines Her...

2009-01-13T09:22:00.000-08:00

I had a frustrating night last night.

When the punk and I got home, we heated up the oven for some pizza and I took that preheating time to practice her weekly spelling words with her. This is a subject that usually consists of lots of yelling, crying, cursing, hair pulling and general whining. Once I'm done doing that, we're ready to get down to business. Until the little punk wants to start arguing with me on the way that 'could' is spelled.

Punk: It's not could, it's cud.
Me: No, that spells cud.
Punk: Fine, then cod.
Me: That's cod. Trust me, it's could.
Punk: No....that doesn't make any sense. Trust me.
Me: Yes punk, your teacher and I both have it wrong...

So what should have taken a mere 10 minutes to spell out 10 words, turned into an hour. We were both spent by the end of it and a little bit sweaty. I rewarded myself with a beer (or 10) and some pizza. After dinner and cartoons, I tell the punk it's almost time for bed and to start getting ready. She comes out of her room with a package of Hello Kitty temporary tattoos (damn you people for buying those for her. You know who you are) and says she wants to put a few on. Using prior knowledge to my advantage, I tell her none on her face or neck.

A few minutes later, the punk emerges from the bathroom with this...

That's right folks, she gave herself a tramp stamp. I don't even know how my extremely uncoordinated little punk was able to get it perfectly in the middle of her back either. I mean, that takes talent!

Anyway, it's clear to me now that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. I'm in for a world of hurtin' with this one...

My privates

2009-01-12T09:13:00.000-08:00

A lot of you have asked what happened that made me go private and what happened with my baby daddy. I'm not going to share as much as I originally would have, like the actual emails. But I will tell you the story. Here's a little background for those who don't know.

The punk's dad and I were never married. We were never really a couple either. He was my fuck buddy that I had for a few years and every time one of us was drunk and had no one else to turn to, we would call each other, fuck and go our seperate ways until the next drunk dial. The last time that happened, I got pregnant. At that time in my life, I was doing a lot of drugs. I was living in my first real apartment with my bff Sahara and we were huge coke heads! Then one day I hurt my back at work and was put on worker's comp. September 11, 2001 came, and I realized that day that I was pregnant. But I was already like 3 months along.

So I tell the punk's dad and he says it's not his and he isn't ready for a kid. End of the story. After she was born, I emailed him a picture of the punk. She looked identical to him. He came around a few months later and wanted to see her. I made it clear to him that I was not going to have a father in her life who was in and out. That if he wanted to be a part of her life, that he had to keep his word, and be there for her always. He thought about it, and agreed that was what he wanted.

Fast forward, the punk is now 6. Baby daddy takes her every other weekend and we share big holiday's like Christmas, Easter and Thanksgiving. I don't want to give the impression that he's some dead beat dad, because he isn't. I think he is just only capable of having her when he wants her, and that's it. I don't think he knows what it means to be an actual father, and I just don't think he has the desire to see her more than he does. It's sad, but I've accepted (in a way) that those are his limitations. He's never once been late for a child support payment and he usually always takes her on the weekends he is scheduled to have her.

For years I have asked him to take a more active role in her life. Even to just pick her up one night a week and take her out to dinner or something and then drop her back off. But he can't ever commit to that. He always has one excuse or another as to why he just can't do that.

So I recently told him that Ghost and I were getting married and that we would be moving to Colorado. He was obviously upset and called me selfish. He told me that I only think of myself and that as long as DPH is happy, then that's all that matters. I took some time to think of a response, emailed some people about it, and wrote back and told him that his actions over the last 6 years show just how selfish he is. I listed examples and asked him if I didn't deserve a chance at happiness. I then posted those emails up here on my blog, before going private.

The day I posted them, I got an email back from him. The gist of it was that he never wanted Charlotte and didn't have a choice in that matter, so he realizes that like that, he has no choice in the matter of her moving, so I could do what I wanted and that we would work out a visitation schedule. He then told me to remember that we went to the same high school (not at the same time, he was older. But his sister was in my grade) and that people talk. Someone had told him about my blog months ago and he has been reading. He didn't appreciate me making him out to be the worst father ever (sorry, the truth hurts) and that he didn't want his private life and his girlfriend's life, up on the internet for everyone to read.

So I went private. Not to protect or respect his privacy, but because I don't want that douche bag reading my fucking blog!! I don't want him to know what I'm doing and to know my thoughts. It's not his goddamn business.

So there you have it. I have the green light to move to Colorado and that's really the important thing here. At least for me. So if that means that I lose the potential of getting new readers for a while, then I guess that's what it means. BUT, I will say that I was shocked at how many lurkers I have. I let you fuckers in, so you better fucking start commenting!

Special sauce on the third bun.

2009-01-09T09:17:00.001-08:00

I know many of you requested that I blog about the whole baby daddy drama that made me go private, and I will. But not today. For the last 7 days my jaw has been fucked up and I finally decided to go to the doctor last night.

I really didn't want to have to answer questions about whether or not I've been sucking a lot of cock lately either. I felt like that was a real possibility too, after the last time I went to the doctor asking to get my tubes tied and he told me to go back to my home on whore island. And who could forget the time they massacred my vag?

So the punk and I were waiting to be called back into the room. All of a sudden, I hear them call a name that sounded quite familiar. It was baby daddy's brother's name. Uncle Paul* stands up and starts walking and I say to the punk, "hey, it's Uncle Paul". She flips out and runs over and gives him and hug and shit, whatever.

A few minutes later we get called back to the nurses station where they proceeded to weigh me (kill me now) and take my BP and all that fancy shit. All of a sudden, the earth starts shakin!!! We're having a fucking earthquake. I hate earthquakes.

I see the doctor and she tells me my jaw is probably dislocated, but she wants me to see a specialist. However, to see the specialist, I need a referral and since today is Friday, I probably can't get in until Monday. But did she did give me a little brochure from 1982 telling me all about TMJ!

Does anyone else think that looks like David Bowie in pain?

After the appointment I get a text from baby daddy saying, "Paul said you were at the doctor with the punk. Is she alright?" Like you fucking care.

So I would like to say thank you to my fiance, Ghost. Thank you for dislocating my jaw with your monstrous cock. God, I love you.

Where do I belong?

2009-01-08T09:05:00.000-08:00

In case you missed it yesterday, I'm going private either end of the day today, or first thing in the morning. So if you haven't already emailed me and you want to continue to read, please email me at dirtypiratehooker13@gmail.com. Random screening applies, but I'll be gentle and use lots of lube.

After some conversations with Ghost this past weekend in Colorado, I've been wondering...where do I belong?

Ghost says that because I've never had a Big Mac, I'm a communist.

He also says that since I've never seen a Clint Eastwood movie, I'm not an American.

And since I dip my fries in mayo, I'm Canadian.

But I also clean, so I'm Mexican.

I listen to rap, which makes me African American.

So just where do I belong people? What racial group should I choose to identify with if I am ever put in jail?

I'm so confused...

A sad day it is

2009-01-07T12:03:00.000-08:00

Well, I never thought this day would come and I'm super sad to see that it has. But someone in the bloggosphere is a big fucking blabber mouth!

I have to go private. Yep. Probably not forever, but for quite some time.

Email me at dirtypiratehooker13@gmail.com if you want to read, or email me if you want details.

I hope I keep you all!!! I'll go private by Friday, so make sure you email me if you want to keep reading.

You fucked that skank???

2009-01-06T09:02:00.000-08:00

Before I go into the story I'm telling today, I thought I would let you all know that Ghost and I did a joint post over at his blog about our NYE in Denver and about our time together in CO this past week. You can read about it here. There's lots of pics too.

I watched a show on people who cheat on their spouses last night and it got me thinking about the one time that I was cheated on (and knew about it). His name was Don. Don and I had a very retarded relationship but for some reason, every time we would break up, I would come running back for more. I was 22 and he was 46. He lived somewhat close by and had a 9 year old daughter who came to see him every other weekend for one night. Don also had a cool truck and a grip of motorcycles. He was a recovering drug addict and alcoholic and he dressed like a tool.

Don and I fought a lot. It was over the stupidest shit on earth too. For instance, I had a Toyota Corolla at the time and I was leasing it. When we would go places, he insisted on driving my car and this irritated me because I had limited miles due to the lease and we could NEVER take his truck anywhere. So we would fight over this, ridiculous thing.

Don was very involved in sober living homes and the AA program and would counsel newly recovered addicts, which I thought was great. But he had this one bitch, Heather that he used to date and he would still talk to her. This bothered the fuck out of me because every time that Don and I would get into a fight and break up, he would start talking to Heather. Also, Heather would call constantly and if I answered, she would get all ghetto Jerry Springer on me and then my inner black girl would surface and I would get all Maury Povich on her.

One night, Don and I got into a fight but we didn't break up. The next day I met him at a restaraunt and we were going to talk about things. I was really mad (don't even remember why) and I was going to break up with him then. He starts begging and pleading with me, telling me he loves me so much and that he knows he was wrong, blah, blah, blah. He begs me to come back to his house so we can talk it out. So we do. And we end up in bed together. After, we decided that we were going to move in together (great idea, right?).

His cell rings, I see that it's Heather, so I pick it up and tell her to stop calling, that we're moving in together and all that shit. So Heather says, "I fucked Don last night, just thought you should know that, bitch". So I tell her she's pathetic and hang up. I didn't believe it. Don wouldn't do that to me. So I told him and he didn't deny it, or act like he couldn't believe what she had said. He just sat there quietly, looking at me. So I asked him. Then he says yes, he did fuck her.

I don't know if a more ghetto pirate hooker has ever surfaced the way it did when I heard him tell me he fucked another girl, but that he wanted to be with me. It was not pretty and I left crying, but not before I gave him a black eye and drop kicked him in the nuts. He called for weeks and I for whatever reason would answer and just scream at him. Eventually he stopped calling and I forgot about him for the most part. Occasionally when I drive by his house, I think about him. He actually messaged me on myspace a few months back and said he missed me, but I never responded.

Cheaters are fucking lame and should be executed.

Anal Casserole.

2009-01-05T07:00:00.000-08:00

You're going to be totally disappointed with that title. Why does she have those two words in her labels?

Hey all, Betsey Booms here filling in for DPH while she is on her wild New Year's romp.

Initially when DPH asked that I guest post for her I was pretty sure that all her readers would be sorely disappointed. I have no crazy sexcapades to regale you with or tales of debauchery. No stories of torturing those less than fortunate that me. Seriously, this broad is a tough act to follow.

I met my husband in the heady days of my youth. We were 19 and little raver kids. Our days were a blur and our nights were blurrier. Hubs and I met when we were 19. He was "dating" this really skanky girl that I knew from hair school. That's how we met. Soon we found that we were living 2 blocks from each other and spending a lot of time together.

We were "best friends" and from what I can tell our definition of best friend mostly meant that we got to sleep together and drove the other's girlfriends and boyfriends nuts with the time we spent together. And every once in a while we'd go grab a meal together. Whatever.

So fast forward many years, Hubs and I have been "best friends" this entire time. The sleeping together stopped while I was married of course. At this time I'm living in Upstate New York and I just came to KC to visit. Whenever I visited KC it was set in stone that I was going to meet up with the Hubs for a crazy night out on the town.

That night, sure enough I was heading out to go meet the man and at the time he was dating this super cute girl. I mean, she was super cute in a totally Britney Spears, not a brain in her head kind of way. We decided to meet up at this little sidewalk cafe. I parked on the street and found my way down the sidewalk. As I walk up I see my man sitting there with this cute little blonde to his side. He jumps up and gives me a big hug and introduces me. Nothing but icey stares from her. I tell them that I'm going to go in to get a drink. As I turn to walk in the door I see her slap him on the arm and chest and it looked like ugly words were said between them.

Soon I feel a hand on my back, I turn and there is Hubs. I looked at him and asked what that was all about. He laughed and said, "I told her that we were meeting my best friend tonight, but I told her you were ugly. She wasn't happy to see that you weren't ugly at all." Nice.

We had a few drinks and chatted and discussed where we were going to next. At some point, I got Hubs back in the bar and I told him that he should "get rid of her". He looked at me astonished and said, "How should I do that?" I just smiled and replied, "You're a smart boy, you'll figure it out" and turned him to go back back out there.

I don't know what he said to his buddy but his friend took the girl one direction and we went the other to "meet up" at the next bar.

Needless to say, we never made it to that bar nor did he answer his phone the rest of the night. I can tell you that it was the hottest night he and I ever had and he was pissed when he woke up in the morning and I had left while he was sleeping.

Dipshit ended up dating him for at least another month and I ended up marrying him. Wait? Does that make me the dipshit?

No, but I think screwing him on the futon in his living room while his other girlfriend was asleep in his bedroom might.

That's a tale for another day.

Clothes Whore

2009-01-02T08:51:00.000-08:00

I was thinking maybe I (meaning Lisa) should tell you a little about the Dirty Pirate Hooker while she is gone. Like some stuff she might not want you to know. The thing is, she actually has no clothes. She wears like the same three outfits over and over again.

Seriously.

How do I know this? Because I see her in real life people. Trust me.

For example, the first sleepover we had, she brought a swimsuit to wear in the spa, but had no pajamas. So I gave her some.

The next sleepover, her swimsuit had mysteriously disappeared and I let her borrow my daughters clothes to hang out in the spa. And afterward, I let her borrow a Roxy sweatshirt, my daughters pants...even underwear. And then I sent her home in my vintage Aerosmith t-shirt, that I love (it doesn't matter if I haven't worn it in a year). Here she is in my kitchen.

Finally, Sunday we drove my daughter on the LONG ASS drive half way between SoCal and Central California, and she had NO jacket (although I heard she has one now). So I let her borrow my BCBG sweater.

I propose we start a fund. A Put Clothes On A Hooker Fund, if you will. Or go buy a calendar from her boyfriend to help them out.

Just kidding. DPH has clothes. And I hope she is having fun in Colorado.