Sometimes I Tend to Exaggerate

Today I woke up early. Like really early on my day off. But it just happened to be one of those days. Bright eyed and bushy tailed from the second I cracked my eyes open.





But what to do with this energy... what to do...

An idea!

It's a beautiful morning! Lets go for a little jog!!!

I ran along, distracted by my Britney Spears iTune playlist.

Suddenly and without warning, I stumbled down a large cliff into the jagged rocks waiting below...

I sat, stunned for a moment but thankful to have survived.

But then - WAIT! What was that? Holy cowabunga, I'm not alone! ZOMBIE!

I knew what I had to do. I closed my eyes and focused my girl-brained power.

The zombie was toast.

So then I ran home and had a sandwich.

My Brain Needs a Vacation.

It might have just been a really busy week at work. Or I might have mad cow disease. Or possibly syphilis. Either way, this is all I could think of to post today:


Bruce may be the coolest kitten ever. Probably the only thing that could make him cooler is if he were part man-eating bear too. Then people would be like 'Hey, don't mess with that girl. She has a cat-bear and he'll be all up in my shit if I'm not careful'.

SKULL BASHING! DOOM! DESTRUCITON! ARGH!

For the most part, I like to think of myself as a pretty happy-go-lucky type of gal. On a fairly normal basis, this is probably how most of you see me...


But every once in a while, those sneaky little ovaries can start playing some terrific games with my head. It's quite possible for me to go from puppy dogs and kittens and sunshine and rainbows and unicorns and plump little midgets to complete nut ball in a matter of seconds.

This has been my day thus far...

Point A: Crying girl for no reason. Well, there was a reason, darn it. My Total cereal got way too soggy way too fast. It just didn't seem fair.


Point B: Anxiety sets in. I started thinking to myself 'Why do bad things always happen to me? Did I totally jack up my karma yesterday when I elbowed that little 13 year old girl out of the way to get my tickets to see 'Eclipse'? It wasn't my fault she fell down when I knocked into her and spilled her large popcorn. Why the hell does that fat little kid need a large popcorn anyway? Does she know how many calories are in that tub? Lard-ass- stupid- kid. Where are her parents? How could they let their kid eat like that? What's wrong with these people? What's wrong with this cereal? What's wrong with ME? What did I do? Why am I being punished???

Point C: Straight up nasty rage. There is no reasoning with me at this point. My cereal is soggy and it's probably someone's fault. Probably my boss' fault for not paying me more so I can buy better cereal. Or maybe my mom's fault because she suggested I buy light soy milk because it's healthier and what she probably meant was I look fat so I better start losing some weight otherwise I'm going to look like a freaking pig at my 10 year high school reunion next month and it's bad enough that I'm going without a date and I'll probably be single forever but it's really my parents who should be blamed for sticking me with the short end of the genetic stick. You know what? I'm going to call my mom RIGHT. NOW. and tell her exactly how much I appreciate my predisposition to eating fried food and weird looking little toes.

Point D: Rage magnifies exponentially. It's out of control at this point. My suggestion is you hide. Now. I'm probably plotting how I can murder you in your sleep and not get caught. Wait, fuck it. I don't care if I DO get caught.

Point E: RAGE! RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGE! I'M GOING TO EAT YOUR FACE AND THEN POOP IT OUT ON YOUR MOM'S KITCHEN TABLE RAAAAAAAAAAAAGE! AND WHEN I'M DONE WITH THAT I'M GOING TO GO FIND A KITTEN AND KICK IT! AND THEN I'M GOING TO TRY ON SOME NEW JEANS AT THE MALL THAT WILL BE TO FUCKING TIGHT BECAUSE I'M FUUUUUCKING BLOATED AND I'M GOING TO TELL THAT SKINNY LITTLE BITCH OF A SALES ASSOCIATE EXACTLY WHERE SHE CAN STICK THAT STORE CREDIT CARD APPLICATION AND THEN GO EAST SOME CHOCOLATE IN A DARK ROOM BY MYSELF.

Point F: Just leave me alone with my fucking cereal already. Seriously. Just leave me alone.

I just popped 3 Midol and opened a bag of peanut butter m&m's. I'd still proceed with caution if I were you.

The Shortest Date Ever (No Pun Intended)

This is a story about a young girl-brained moron, out there trying to find true love. The heroine of this story was no stranger to Man eBay and had quickly learned the ups and downs of meeting men online... yet, she was always still hopeful.

Sure, she came across a few frogs along the way...

Yet, still, days she would spend, clicking away on the various nudges, ice breakers and poorly-edited emails that would come her way from the darkest pits of the online dating jungle.

Finally, one day a young man struck her fancy. He was smart, liked kids, had a good job and looked pretty smokin' in his head shots. They shared emails, then texts and then the first big phone call.She was sure, in her little girl-brained mind that this was MEANT TO BE.

She quickly got to work, preparing for the date.

When the night of the date came around, she sat nervously, waiting for the knock on her door.

She gathered all her courage, adjusted her cleavage and went to open the door for the their first face to face. Would it be love at first sight??? She took a deep breath and reached to pull open the door... And there he was...

All 5'2" of him.

Remembering her manners and that any free meal is one less she doesn't have to pay for herself, she walked out to the street where he had parked his car. His eyes gleamed as he opened the door for her and began telling her about the classic 1954 Mustang he owned and completely rebuilt all on his own. He explained he'd been working on the car for about 5 years with his father and had only driven it on the street twice before tonight.

The girl cared nothing about cars but could tell this was something special to him.

As he climbed with his little legs into the drivers seat of the car, she fought back an outward cringe as tiny hand slipped onto her leg. Her nails dug into the worn leather of the front seat as she tried to focus on tall things: basketball players, trees, giraffes...

Suddenly: CRUNCH.

After quickly assessing that no one was bleeding or missing any miniature limbs, she climbed out of the car and looked down on the wee lad and his t-boned car. Realizing that his misfortune was her treasure, she quickly called her roommate, who was simply 2 miles away in their apartment, and quickly offered her condolences, threw in a 'call me' and made a quick exit.

The next day, the girl thought about the little man and his crunchy car. Poor guy. She supposed the only thing that would make him feel any better would be if she agreed to a mercy date. Perhaps some time with this glamazon could make him temporarily forget his woes.

So she waited for the phone to ring with him calling to ask her back out.

And waited.

And waited.

To Only Further My Point...

... I'm starting to believe I might actually really suck at this blogging thing. If it's not bad enough that I mentioned fowl in a majority of my first posts (I refuse to say 'chicks' in this one... wait. sonofabiscuit... *melodramatic sigh) I'm now questioning my artistic abilities as well.

Take the following pictures for example. One I spent about 20 minutes on and was slightly buzzed down at my parent's boat when I doodled it.... the other was crafted by my brother. My 10 year old brother who I had to explain how to drag and click on the laptop before he could start.

Also extremely telling this this photo: my dear baby bro draws himself holding a baseball glove (or maybe it's a human head... who knows) and my self portrait is of me drinking a Bud at 7am in the morning. Also, I think his cursive is better than mine.

My mom would be so proud.

Dreams DO Come True

There is a man with a mother-f'ing machete in a tree outside my window at work. I kid you not. And if there's one thing mommy likes it's a big, sweaty alpha male performing death-defying acts of bravery and hottness.

It's going to be a good day.

Why I'm Going to Hard-Core Suck at Blogging

Um, has anyone else noticed that 3 of my last 4 entries have involved poultry in some way? And in the spirit of full disclosure, the only other post was me being lazy and posting a Second City video that makes me laugh. I'm sorry, but best line EVER: 'What do I think? I think you're 15 and a moron. You took rufies from a priest. Look at you. Look at your life. Look at your decisions'

Juliet was definitely a girl-brained moron... just goes to prove that we ALL could use a sassy gay friend around to snap us back to reality now and again.

Because lets be real, love can make us girl-brained morons do some pretty crazy stuff.

Wednesday, June 23 : Welcome to my world famous mother-lovin' blog!

"That's right, I've always been one to count my chicks before the hatch... " and "Chicks, you've been counted. Consider this your notice."

Wednesday, June 23: How fluffy little drops of adorableness sent me to the brink

I don't think I need to provide examples here of when chickens were mentioned, considering the whole experience of having 3 dozen chirping, blood-craving chicks running around my office and under my feet was bad enough and accurately described in this entry.

Thursday, June 24: Winner, Winner Chicken Dinner, This is God Talking

It takes a really special person to find God in George-Foreman-cooked chicken. "Chickens aren't so different from you and me... they're just out there trying to survive... trying to take care of their children'. Um, excuse me what what fecking chicken are YOU talking about? Do you imagine the chickens out in the forest, hunting for berries to bring back to their chicks or defending their nest from mountain lions or something? Hate to break it to you, dear Crazy Town Boy, but that chicken you're eating? Yeah, it probably grew up in a wire box about 9"x9" and ate discarded chicken parts for meals. Dummy.

Anyway, the completion of this post will bring my chick count up to 4 out of 5... not pretty. I mean, I could have at least picked something cool to carry as a theme throughout the site... like ninjas or wolverines or raptors or rabid hamsters or something. Dang.