Miss Thystle's Guide to Life

What's to do, what's to do?

Tue, 29 Apr 2008 16:09:13 GMT

If I moved to Blogger, would you guys go over there and visit me?

Update: Bit the bullet and bought my own domain name! Please update all your links (or add me to your links! And your favorites! And the favorites of all your friends~!) to;

www.missthystle.com

Catchy, right?

It would seem accountants can be bad-a$$ afterall

Thu, 24 Apr 2008 16:46:36 GMT

(scene - Wal-Mart gun counter; last night)

Very Tattooed Thug – And a box of .45's

Wall of Thug Meat – Lemme get some 9's too, man

Me – That's what I need, too. Two of the hundred round boxes of the Winchester 9mm 125grain full metal jackets, please.

WoTM – Damn, Girl, that was HOT.

VTT – yeah, baby, you a bad ass.

(/scene)

Not Webster

Tue, 22 Apr 2008 15:20:51 GMT

My father in law was recently downsized. Being that he's less than five years from retirement, he's not interested in finding a new career; just something to pay the bills.

So far he's applied to be a security guard, a Wal-Mart greeter (is that spelled right? The longer I look at 'greeter' the less it looks like a word) and most amusingly, a fish quality inspector.

Since he's been in the photography industry for the last 30 years, and the Navy before that, his resume is a little narrow. Undaunted, he filled out his application for the glorious field of salmon inspection. However, given his propensity for saying things like "windle" (window) "chimaley" (chimney) and things of that ilk, he called my mother in law to get clarification on his most legit claim to the job.

FIL - How do you spell Abbott?

MIL - Abbott? Like Abbott and Costello?

FIL - No, the other kind

MIL - (confused) Can you use it in a sentence?

FIL - "I am an abbott fisherman"

MIL - You mean avid A-V-I-D

FIL - No, I don't, I mean ABBOTT, like I'm good at it and I know stuff about fish? So, if you don't know how to spell it, just say so!

He didn't get the job. Apparently they're not interested in Abbott Fishermen. Go figure.

Because My Moral Compass Is Broken

Wed, 09 Apr 2008 16:25:50 GMT

How many five year olds could you take on in a fight?

http://www.howmanyfiveyearoldscouldyoutakeinafight.com/

Me? I could take on 26! Hell yeah, I could, damn ankle biters!!

Fierce!

Thu, 03 Apr 2008 21:42:45 GMT

M & me are off to NYC tonight on the Jet Blue red eye. My mother keeps calling to remind me to do things like bring a coat. Silly me, thinking I was an adult. Actually, I’ve noticed a bunch of random and insightful things this week. So I’m going to tell you ALLL about them. Because I love you, that’s why.

1) Even if you’re an adult living several thousand miles away, an executive at a multi-national company responsible for million dollar decisions and the parent of a teenager, your mother will still call to remind you to bring comfortable shoes when you go on vacation.

2) If your spouse really likes that recipe that you just invented he will casually mention that you should make some so that he can take it to work and share it with the guys. This is man-speak for "You are a Goddess and queen of my heart and you’re also talented and beautiful and I wish to brag about your prowess to those who I wish to envy me in my good fortune." So you will have to take your nine hundredth trip to the grocery store that week to get ingredients for another pan of Chocolate Chocolate Chip Rice Krispie treats with Score Candy Bar pieces. (Yes, you will go into a sugar coma but OH MY GOD! delicious!)

3) If your teenager says that she has packed "fierce" clothes, you should check her suitcase unless you want her to look like either an a)hooker or b)homeless emo transvestite hooker.

4) That smell? Not good. And has anyone seen the puppy? SWEET 8lb 6oz Baby JESUS that is not right. NOT RIGHT. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD bring me a fire hose, sixteen rolls of paper towels, a nose plug and some rubber gloves. And tongs. STAT.

5) If your boss says "When ever you get around to it" he really means "now". When you give it to him five minutes later, he’ll be convinced you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to the company.

6)He will not give you a raise though.

7) Free stuff kicks ass. Our company teeshirts are completely biker fabulous. I look like a total bad ass wearing them. You know, if accountants could be bad ass. Which I assure you, we can not. But in my mind. Oh yes, in my mind I am a complete bad ass.

8) The Coke Machine guy, who is NOT my earstwhile heart throb is a price raising bastard. 65C. for a Diet Dr. Pepper? That’s like asking me to pay for oxygen. I NEED IT and it’s horrible of you to make me walk all the way back to the other building to get a nickle because you know full well that when I get there the phone will be ringing and it will be someone telling me their entire life story to get to the point of their question which will be "Can you transfer me to receiving?" because they just pressed random buttons until they got a live person rather than following the prompt and when you’re done with THAT idiot something else will come up and the next thing you know it’s 2pm and I still haven’t had a Diet Dr. Pepper and I’m ready to kill someone.

9) If I don’t get caffeine, I get cranky.

10) If you Twitter you can follow my tweets for an on going commentary on the hillarious antics of bridesmaid-a-palooza. My twitter address is http://twitter.com/Reverend_kiki

Right. So, that’s all for now, I guess.

Replacing A$$hat

Mon, 31 Mar 2008 21:23:38 GMT

I’m headed to NYC for Bridesmaid-a-palooza (how can you tell I’m a teen of the 90’s? I add ’a-palooza’ to things) on Thursday night.

Now, I know that the East Coast is a little different from the West*. For example, they have weird accents. Also, they smoke. They embrace public transportation. They swear. A lot. In fact, the New Jersey flavor of EC’er maybe one of the most linguistically creative. I mean, who knew that you could use fuck as an adverb, adjective, verb and noun all in the same sentence? It’s brilliant, I tell you.

I am afraid that my provincial West Coast vocabulary may make me fodder for overheardinnewyork.com so I figured I better learn a really good, really shocking, really fucking awesome bad word.

And I have. That word is "Fuckmuppet". I’m not completely sure of the proper application for the word though. A taxi driver could probably be a fuckmuppet if he drives by you and it’s raining, but shouldn’t a fuckmuppet described an elevated level of douchebaggery? I’m thinking so. I’m thinking that fuckmuppet probably is also something that you can say either to someone or about them. For example you might say "Stanley, you are such a fuckmuppet" or you could say "Ew. You’re dating Stanley? He’s such a fuckmuppet".

Because you should be able to use fuckmuppet any situation where you might use asshat or fucktard it’s just that classy.

*I know this because the Real House Wives of New York are WAY bitchier than the Real House Wives of Orange County. I believe in research, you know.

**Another way you can tell how old I am is my enduring love of ALF.

Currently listening :
Holy Fuck
By Holy Fuck
Release date: 04 December, 2007

Ego Boost for the Day

Fri, 28 Mar 2008 21:31:48 GMT

Despite the fact that I have hobo-feet* and despite the fact that it's winter everywhere else in the Northern Hemisphere, it's officially sandal season in my world.

And I LOVE sandals. Especially high heeled sandals. I probably have, oh, fifteen pairs. Even after getting rid of 10 pairs about six months ago. I know I have a problem, but everytime I start the Twelve Steps I wind up walking right into a shoe store.

Today, I am wearing my favorite pair of black, heeled, suede sandals.

While I was out delivering paycheques to my staff, I was clack-clacking through the manufacturing floor and one of the fab guys says to me;

"Mmm, high heels make the sexiest sound in the world." and then out in the assembly department a tech says "You should wear high heels everyday. Nothin' hotter than a woman in heels".

Now, I'm not so vain** as to think that these comments mean anything other than boys like high heels, but even so, it does a girl good to be noticed, you know?

*Hobo-feet (adj) Having feet desperate for a pedicure. I.E. "Did you see Debbies scraggy toe-nails and cracked heels? That girl has hobo-feet"

** I am so totally that vain, who am I kidding?

To the men in my office -

Thu, 20 Mar 2008 19:17:30 GMT

I am the only woman at my office. I am the only woman that works for the entire COMPANY for that matter. There are no fewer than four men’s restrooms on sight, each with multiple stalls and urinals. There is ONE ladies room with one toilet. Fair enough, since there is only one of me.

But can someone PLEASE, PLEASE tell me why the men all insist on using the ladies room? I don’t want to see you pee drops on the floor, I don’t want to see your copies of “Biker” on the back of the toilet (the naked chicks featured on every page just don’t do it for me, maybe you could bring in Men’s Health?) and for the love of all that’s holy I really, really don’t want to see your pubes on the rim of the toilet after you’ve left the seat up.

Have a little respect. The ladies room is nice because I keep it that way. It’s clean because I keep it that way. It smells good because I keep it that way. If your bathroom is so disgusting CLEAN IT! Don’t use mine!

Sincerely,

Your coworker with boobs

Petty is as Petty does

Wed, 19 Mar 2008 19:19:12 GMT

When someone asks me to guess something, I make a point of coming up with something completely obscure and possibly inappropriate.

Guess what I want for my birthday?

Six pounds of butterfly cut pork-chops?

Close. A sea kayak.

My mother called the other day

Guess who showed up on our doorstep?

Snoop Dogg?

Close. FRED*!

I’m pretty sure that my white, green eyed ex boyfriend can’t be mistaken for a black rapper, but no matter what random thing I come up with, the guessee almost always says “close” to my guess.

Of course, I wanted to know why he was there, but that, my chickens, THAT is the whole point of this game. Feigned disinterest. That’s nice I tell my mother. Really I’m thinking that I bet he’s dying. Or maybe he wants to return the No Doubt CD that he “borrowed” in 1997. Maybe he’s recently come in to a large sum of money and wants to give me some because once, a long time ago, I let him see my amazing rack. I might have even let him touch it, but this is a G-Rated blog (sometimes) so I won’t say if I did or didn’t.

The truth was much less interesting, he needed my contact information so that he could provide me as a reference for a job he’s applying for.

Guess what else? My mother gleefully asked me. This is because my mother, above all things, LOVES gossip. He’s missing all his teeth? I guess. Close! He’s married and they have a baby! I find this information less than interesting. I knew all that. I have Google after all. AND he’s fat! But not FAT fat, just kind of fat. This information I do appreciate. I appreciate this information because twelve years or so ago, he made a huge deal about how *I* had gained ten pounds or so. I’m already a big girl, does ten pounds really matter? We should go on a diet he tells me. DIET? Um, Fuck You? I’m pretty sure the reason that you had no girlfriend for a long time before me was because you don’t have the brains to realize that telling someone whose vagina you wish to know in the Biblical sense that she needs to lose a few pounds is NOT A GOOD IDEA. So, yeah, I’m glad he’s fat, because me? I look exactly the same. That’s not true, I actually look better, because I can afford $60 hair cuts and bi-monthly mani/pedi’s and I have learned to dress to accentuate rather than hide my figure.

Anyhoodle, back to him being fat. I’m pretty sure that the only thing that would make me happier would be if he had a really hideous wife. Not because I wish her ill, but because, COME ON, who doesn’t secretly hope that their ex, however amiable the split, is now dating someone that you have to look away from because other wise you’ll throw up in your mouth? Oh stop that. You know you’ve thought the exact same thing.

We chat a few minutes longer, but really I’ve lost interest in the subject. I mean it’s not as if he’s gone from homeless to billionaire and has just sold his memoirs for a huge sum to Paramount and wants to know if I’d prefer Jennifer Garner or Reese Witherspoon to play me in the movie.

But then, you’ll never guess what happened! He sent the ‘rents a couple of pictures of himself and his family! And then the DaD MaN send them to me! HAHAHAH. Okay, breathe deep, Thystle. Ahem. You know what? He is fat! And balding! Hee hee! Alright, so the baby is cute. But he’s a baby after all so that is kind of a given. His wife is alright. Not hot, but not hideous. She *was* wearing Mom jeans so that made me happy.

But you know what made me really happy? His house is a mess! I’ve no idea why I’m so thrilled with this, but really I am. He used to give me ten tons of grief over the fact that my apartment was cluttered. Now, I’ll grant you that it was, but the apartment was about 500sf, so what do you really expect? I sew, I write, I read (all the time) and I’m a teeny-weenie bit obsessed with clothes, shoes, make up and all other things related to being a girl. Also, I lived alone so really, if I left three months worth of magazines and six bottles of nail polish on the side table who was it hurting? No one except (apparently) someone who should have been happy just to be allowed in to the incense scented pink glory that was my single girl apartment.. Now, all these years later seeing that his house is ten times as cluttered as mine (a feat, I assure you) gives me no end of amusement. It’s like Karma backed right up and dumped a hot-steamy load all over him. Because that Karma? She’s a bitch my lovelies.

P.S. If anyone needs me, I’ll be feeding handicapped nuns and orphans homemade chocolate cake this afternoon. In case you see Karma hanging around or anything.

*Name changed because it makes me seem more mysterious that way.

Fine, your SECOND most favorite then

Mon, 17 Mar 2008 15:09:53 GMT

me: ...and your most favorite thing ever for after dinner

J: I didn’t realize they were selling them in packages now.

me: What?

J: blow jobs.

Proof that I am dying...My husband cooked.

Wed, 12 Mar 2008 18:55:29 GMT

Those of you that know my husband will attest to the fact that he’s more Al Bundy than Danny Tanner. Not that this is necessarily a bad thing, since I’m more Peggy Bundy than June Cleaver myself. However, when I am sick we run into a problem.

The trash can is over flowing, everyone is wearing uncomfortable underwear and there is nothing to eat at the house. I am sure they are whining about it, but honestly? I can’t hear a damn thing. Both my ears are plugged, so everything is muted about 50-75%. Takes a lot of the work out of ignoring them, let me tell you.

I did manage to stumble to the living room the other day and you know what? It looks exactly like Mc Donalds and Burger King had a baby named Jack In The Box and he spent all day playing with his Taco Bell. The dogs are loving it. So many tasty pieces of garbage to eat! To Shred! To strew happily about the dining room! Upon seeing me upright for the first time in days my beloved offered me food. That he would produce himself! Whatever my heart desired.

This, let me tell you, is an unprecedented turn of events. It may be a sign of the apocalypse. I’m pretty sure it’s the first time in, oh, YEARS that food has emerged from that kitchen not prepared by me on a day other than a holiday. The request obviously required some thought...steak? Hmmm....steak. But that requires chewing. And, you know, *having* steak. I’m pretty sure a trip to the grocery store is out of the question. (total side note; Ladies, have you ever noticed how hard it is to grocery shop with a man? WTF? I always come home with twice as much food and way random things.)

I half contemplated telling my beloved, "thanks but no thanks". But then I remembered, in the kitchen, in the fridge, there was the most perfect of all foods. The food to which all other foods bow. Bacon. Just bacon.

You know what? It was the best dinner I’ve had in ages.

Bringing Out The Dead

Tue, 11 Mar 2008 17:38:45 GMT

I'm not dead yet. But, I am still sick.

I have been sick for nearly two weeks and you know what? I am not sure I remember what's it's like to not be sick. I have a lovely racking cough where it sounds exactly like I'm trying to use my lung muscles to extract and expel my shin bone. Repeatedly. It's charming.

Before I got the plague I went to Ross and I planned a great little blog about the horrors of shopping at a discount store deep in the heart of the ghetto. I remember it being so funny that I laughed right out loud at my own cleverness.

Yeah. Um. So. I'm sure it will come back it me. In the mean time, this will have to tide you over.

Why did I take it's picture? Maybe because it's hideous and its baby looks like a penis. We'll probably never know.

Red Hat? Bah.

Tue, 04 Mar 2008 17:09:50 GMT

My boss has an 88 year old grandmother who is the very model of what I aspire to be.

You see Grandma, after losing her husband, took up with a spry 97 year old. She flew cross country to live in sin with him and apparently went at it like geriatric rabbits until he kicked off.

Then, she wised up. You see the elderly keel over at an alarming rate, so she hooked up with a younger man. A mere whip of an 83 year old. All was well until he had the nerve to decide to reunite with his ex-wife. He wrote Grandma a "Dear Phyllis" letter and mailed it to her.

Understandably, Grandma found this to be déclassé.

However, her solution might have been a tad extreme. This morning she drove her Cadillac right through the elderly Lothario's house. Right. Through. The. House.

When her bemused son arrived to bail her out she quite calmly informed him that "The Bastard was rude not to tell me to my face!" because while felony vandalism is excusable, bad manners is not!

A serious turn

Mon, 03 Mar 2008 21:35:37 GMT

As a general rule this blog relies on nonsense and self-depreciation to feed it's existance. But every now and then something sticks in my mind and I just need to get it out. So feel free to come back tomorrow or to hang around and hear me ramble, as your mood dictates.

Have y'all heard about the baby that was taken to an NYC firehouse over the weekend by a cab driver? If not, read it here

http://www.abcnews.go.com/US/story?id=4378855&page=1 before we go on.

This is, to me, possibly the saddest story I've read in a while. Not just because an underage illegal immigrant and her family were too overwhelmed to care for an infant, but because there is no where they could take her with out fear of prosecution. Now, the single family member to be in the country with good papers has been arrested for filing a false police report following the "abandonment".

Here's the thing, I live in an area where fully half (or more) of my neighbors are illegal immigrants and while I will withhold my opinion on that subject I will express my regret that there is no longer a place that babies or even children can be taken where "no questions" are asked. I wish there was some place like the "Baby Homes" of the early 20th century. Somplace safe. The Safe Haven law doesn't go far enough what happens when the baby is older than 5 days? Do they expect a magic line in the sand? What of that tenth day? That tenth month? Every day there are stories in the news about children who are beaten to death or starved or abandoned by overwhelmed parents who felt they had no where to turn. How many of those children would be in loving adopted homes if there was somewhere that Mom or Dad could take them and say "Hi? I can't do this. Find someone who can." How much more can you love a child than to realize that your love isn't enough?

So today, my hat is off to all the parents that walked away because it was the best thing. Today, my hat is off to cab drivers who lie to cops to get a better life for a baby. Today, my hat is off to all the adoptive parents, the foster parents, the social workers and the emergency service providers.

Tell me, imaginary internet friends, what can we do? Does anyone have an appropriate background to find a forum where we can help bring about change? Point me in the right direction. (Because accountants? Not people-people)

Hippity Hoppity

Fri, 29 Feb 2008 16:50:51 GMT

Real Post to follow, but for now....

If Women Ran "Survivor"

Thu, 28 Feb 2008 20:18:30 GMT

Six married or single fathers will be dropped on an island with one car and 3 kids each for six weeks.

Each kid will play two sports and either take music or dance classes

There is no fast food.

Each man must take care of his 3 kids; keep his assigned house clean, correct all homework, and complete science projects, cook, do laundry, and pay a list of 'pretend' bills with not enough money.

In addition, each man will have to budget in money for groceries each week.

Each man must remember the birthdays of all their friends and relatives, and
send cards out on time.

Each man must also take each child to a doctor's appointment, a dentist
appointment and a haircut appointment.

He must make one unscheduled and inconvenient visit per child to the Urgent Care.

He must also make cookies or cupcakes for a social function.

Each man will be responsible for decorating his own assigned house, planting flowers outside and keeping it presentable at all times.

The men will only have access to television when the kids are asleepand all
chores are done.

The men must shave their legs, wear makeup daily, adorn himself with jewelry, wear uncomfortable yet stylish shoes, keep fingernails polished and eyebrows groomed.

During one of the six weeks, the men will have to endure severe abdominal cramps, back aches, and have extreme, unexplained mood swings but never once complain or slow down from other duties.

They must attend weekly school meetings, church, and find time at least once to spend the afternoon at the park or a similar setting.

They will need to read a book and then pray with the children each night and in the morning, feed them, dress them, brush their teeth and comb their hair by 7:00 am.

A test will be given at the end of the six weeks, and each father will be required to know all of the following information: each child's birthday, height, weight, shoe size, clothes size and doctor's name, the child's weight at birth, length, time of birth, and length of labor, each child's favorite color, middle name, favorite snack, favorite song, favorite drink, favorite toy, biggest fear and what they want to be when they grow up.

The kids vote them off the island based on performance. The last man wins only if...he still has enough energy to be intimate with his spouse at a
moment's notice.

If the last man does win, he can play the game over and over and over again for the next 18-25 years eventually earning the right To be called Mother!

After you get done laughing, send this to as many females as you think will get a kick out of it and as many men as you think can handle it.

Inked

Wed, 27 Feb 2008 18:53:41 GMT

So I've decided to get a new tattoo. Actually, I decided that like a year or maybe two ago, I just haven't found anything that really, really makes me say "That! I want THAT on my body for ever and ever and ever".

I've got an idea of what I want, a kind of compliment to my existing tattoo. Not being an artist and also being an visual thinker, I feel that the best plan is to find several pictures so that I can take it to the artist and say; "I like the colors of this one, the feel of this one, the layout of that, etc" until we come up with exactly what I'm picturing.

To that end, last night I googled for some pictures to get started. I got a ton of pictures that are really, really...well...you'll see

I think that these are good examples of things that you'll regret. Come on Ford Mustang? I bet he's got a yellow 1989 Hatchback model with "chrome" accessories from Auto Zone.

Or then there's these

I mean, it's cool that you're 37, a virgin and live in your mom's basement, but we already knew that because you're still wearing your Geek Squad uniform and all you ever talk about is Everquest.

Then there's the poor sororstitues that think that they will be able to sustain a life time of flat tummiedness by abusing laxatives and eating only on days that rhyme with "Fun-day"

Two words for you my precious, Caesarean Section.

There were of course some examples of what happens when RedNecks get a little spending money

And there were funny ones

The cute ones

There were tattoos that clearly went wrong

Like the ones above, which should have been lovely, but just turned out scary and the one below in which Jen & Becky clearly didn't tell Anna that by "Words to Live By" they didn't mean "Don't Wear Pants"

And of course the ones that are gorgeous but not quite right for me

And the ones that make you kind of see the sum of someones life right flash before your eyes

(Now)

(in fifteen years)

And the ones that you have to see to be believe.

In the end though, what I found out was that in about forty years, there's going to be a lot of this

at the Early Bird Buffet.

If I founded A Religion...blogthingie.

Wed, 27 Feb 2008 16:26:45 GMT

If you founded a religion...
Created by EvilAuthor on Memegen.net

The Unobstrusive Worshippers of the 300-foot Glass Cathedral Down The Street From City Hall

Your followers are friendly and welcoming people,

who work for a living just like everybody else,

who are free and fun loving,

and who are encouraged to achieve greater spiritual enlightenment by questioning their own beliefs.

Your followers wear whatever they want.

Your followers are

a massive movement (over 7,000,000),

and they are trying to spread the "good word" through their good works, and by example.

Lucy, I'm Hooooome

Tue, 26 Feb 2008 17:22:07 GMT

I'm back from San Diego and wearing my totally cute Roxy flats that I bought for $2.99.

That's right, chickens, $2.99! So I bought six pairs in various styles. I also bought an adorable Coach bag for $50 (and it's not an Assistant Coach, either!) and a totally fabulous oil painting for my living room.

Of course, there is the small matter (well, not *small* exactly, LOL) of sunburned boobs and a pale white face making me look vaguely ridiculous in a touristy way.

I'd have to say, In My Professional Opinion, it's a Good Idea to wear sunscreen not just on your face, but also on your boobs. Especially when they stick out futher than the brim of your fabulous hat

Because if you don't? Dorky tan lines.

In Which I Am Nearly 86'd From GoodWill

Thu, 21 Feb 2008 19:32:10 GMT

You would THINK that some people would have a better sense of humor. You would THINK that even the most grizzled of old biddy's would realize that this is ridiculous. It's a ceramic poodle head for the love of God. Which is not to mention some of the other lovely, nay, STUNNING treasures that this particular thrift mecca offered. I mean really, you'd think it would be hard to top a ceramic poodle head, but then you would not have yet been exposed to this tableau

I mean COME ON. It's a yellow Viking posed with a cactus. And he has a uni-brow! He's clearly suffering the jauntice! But he's not even the best! Oh, no, he's not! There's this

um, iguana? Something. And there's these

which are apparently decorative cow-horn candle holders (I totally figured you had some already or I would have bought them for you) and of course the absolute single best EVER thrift find

That's right, my Pets, it's bleeding, crying, badly rendered Jesus. On. Velvet.

So I figured, they really should just expect that people would be saving these wonders for later enjoyment, right? I mean who deoesn't feel bad for the poor girl who had to give up her new, custom, embroidered Converse just because Kyle turned out to be a giant ASSHAT who thinks it's okay to sleep with cheerleaders even though they've dating for like THREE WHOLE WEEKS? And they are like, TOTALLY IN LOVE. Because everyone knows, once you write something on your shoes totally the SAME THING as being engaged. And now, she has no shoes and no boyfriend and NO REASON TO LIVE. GOD.

You would THINK that they would expect people to put on their wares and con someone else in to taking photo's of them.

But you know what? They do not. They're all "Miss? Excuse me, Miss? YOU CAN'T Take Pictures in here!" And you're all "Come on, THIS IS FUNNY SHIT!"

And still they're all, "You're going to have to leave if you don't put the camera away!" And when you say "Just one more? Come one, LOOK. I Look RIDICULOUS"

They will threaten to call the manager and you will have to explain that they are NOT FUN and MAYBE they should stop SNIFFING THE DONATIONS because they are being UNPROFESSIONAL and MEAN and then they will tell you if you don't stop right now that you will be told not to come back and you will never be able to buy things that are horrible and overpriced here AGAIN. FOR REAL.

Oh, And By the way? Half off everything this Saturday! Thank you! Come Again!

But will you have the last laugh? Oh, yes, You Will. Because you will have photographic proof that the Lord Lives ON...

Well, on velvet, anyway.

Photo Album: Why Santa Will be Back

Tue, 02 Jan 2007 19:29:22 GMT

Why Santa Will be Back

122406_21591

Photo Album: September 19

Thu, 21 Sep 2006 00:34:39 GMT

September 19

Loki

Custom List: Pounds Until Goal

Thu, 06 Dec 2007 15:43:33 GMT

Pounds Until Goal

Custom List: Marathon in

Thu, 06 Dec 2007 15:43:14 GMT

Marathon in

2 MONTHS

Custom List: Need More?

Wed, 11 Apr 2007 17:06:20 GMT

Need More?

Spy on Thystle

Custom List: Blog Stops

Fri, 02 Feb 2007 20:40:06 GMT

Blog Stops

Darlene Butts
We live parallel lives. We even wear the same underwear.
Protoford
He blogs about poker like we'll understand it. I don't though.
Alicia
Ooh, she's famous. Blog of the month, blog of summer finalist. Also has a very cute little boy who is a complete card.
Liz
We're getting married. On a pig farm.
Mander
Her mom had the scariest spider ever in her garage. Don't go searching her site for the picture. Trust me. Lots to do on this blog.
Boots
Has a Drunk Grandma for an admirer. I'd be jealous, but I do have Drunk Grandpa. So there.
WR
The sweetest blogger on MSN. Although, she is a bit of sommelier. Look it up.
Kristen
My long lost cousin! Into all my favorite things, blogs what I'm thinking and looks super hot in a Goth PVC dress. Just like me. Except mine is red.
Anna
Fighting for Frogs
Karen
Great blog!
Erin
Gorgeous photo's and a contraband cat.
Kiara (the fathead) Panther
My Cave Cat. Loves Bug Hugs and just moved to Hotlanta. I miss her!
A Cheeto Named Larry
Funny blog about the daily life of a flea whisperer
Melissa
She's stalking me. I think that makes me cool. Shut up, it does so!
Earl the Squirrel
Who knew squirrels could type?
Petite Anglaise
Lost, In France. Dooced for blogging. Drama, drama, drama. Very well written. Almost like a novel.
Dooce
Tastes Like Nougat. Recovering Mormon, first time mom, supports herself by blogging. Seriously.
Charm School - for snakes
the truth about Tinsel Town
Indexed
Life explained through charts. Brilliant.
Overheard on the streets of NYC
Idiots say the darndest things. HILLARIOUS
The Company Bitch
An assistant blogs about her life, job and friends.
Shoewawa
A blog about shoes! Now why didn't I think of that? Check out the like to their "ugly shoe" files. Some are down right scary!
Timothy McSweeney's Internet Tendency: Lists
Because I LOVE a good list
Things My Boyfriend Says
The things this guy says are hillarious!
Celebrity Baby Names Blog
As if celebs don't get enough attention, they name their kids really odd things. Poor bastards.
Nadine
My long lost blonde sister and all around favorite Okie.

Custom List: Coolest Thing EVER!

Wed, 29 Nov 2006 21:50:31 GMT

Coolest Thing EVER!

Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster
Finally, A religion that makes sense. Ramen.
The Salamander Society
Vetting of the double speak of Mormons by those who have left the church. Especially funny are the "You might be a Mormon, if"
Dark Chocolate M&M's
need I say more?
Free On Line Tarot Readings
Creepily accurate

Custom List: Vingettes

Fri, 20 Oct 2006 17:43:53 GMT

Vingettes

Custom List: I see you...

Wed, 26 Jul 2006 23:17:46 GMT

I see you...

There's no hiding in cyberspace, so sign the guest book. You know you want to.

Custom List: Web Sites that Rock

Fri, 30 Jun 2006 22:28:14 GMT

Web Sites that Rock

Threadbared
Two hillarious bloggers rip on fashion patterns of years gone by. Good for those of us that read Life & Style to rip on celeb's outfits.
Molly Saves the Day
Wow. Just wow. I don't believe I've ever read a more thought provoking blog
Go Fug Yourself
The fashion tragedies of Hollywood laid bare. Hillarious.
Margene's Blog
Fictional character Margene from Big Love blogs about her life. Like having an imaginary friend, but better
Style Icons
Style.com gives short bio's and great pictures of style icons. Check out Betty Page, especially. One of my favorites
Pymmoti
It's funny cause it's true. Equal oppurtunity hater. On line daters beware....

Custom List: No Copy Cats!

Mon, 19 Jun 2006 18:52:47 GMT

No Copy Cats!

All content on this page belongs to me unless otherwise noted.Please do not copy content with out permission!

Custom List: Favorite Posts

Fri, 09 Jun 2006 15:50:33 GMT

Favorite Posts

Custom List: Wicked Crazy sh*t

Thu, 08 Jun 2006 18:47:40 GMT

Wicked Crazy sh*t

But officer....
Better than a chamois
She's not ugly, she's my girlfriend!
Send your lumpy, wrinkly, bald-headed sheep to Australia
When a bat just doesn't seem serious enough
Dead Puppy as weapon

Custom List: Hot

Thu, 20 Apr 2006 18:39:12 GMT

Hot

Yoplait Whips Chocolate Raspberry Mousse Yogurt
OMG. Better than Dessert! Tastes like rich chocolate mousse, but has all the benefits of yogurt and the same calories/sugar as regular yogurt. SOOO GOOOOOOD
Oreo Peanut Butter Double Stuf
So yummy! It's the oreo chocolate cookie and peanut butter creme center.

Custom List: I .......

Thu, 20 Apr 2006 18:37:33 GMT

I .......

believe that just because you *can* doesnt mean you *should*
believe that I should have known better
believe that time is circular, not linear.
believe that peroxide blonde hair looks good on no one
look amazing in Levis dark wash semi-low rise boot cut jeans
own a gun and am comfortable using it. Which I will, so don't f*ck with me.
believe in a woman's right to choose
have red hair and a temper to match
could eat a tuna sandwhich with dill pickles, onion and mayo on a croissant every day for lunch
think bald heads with goatees are sexy
speak before I think, but still mean what I say
bring home the bacon and cook it up in the pan
think Madonna is over rated
can change a tire, on the side of a road, in a snow storm, while wearing heels.
always have something to read with me, just in case I get bored
believe self services clothing and shoe stores are bringing about the uglification of the world
just made up the word "uglification"
am the Lizard Queen
believe if your toes hang over the edge, your shoes are too small
believe Karen Kepplewhite is the Worlds Best Kisser
believe that religion is the opium of the masses
am glad you found Jesus, even though I didn't realize he was missing
honk when I'm horny
have done everything on Cosmo's "Be A Sexual Goddess" list
believe a well stated theory trumps a poorly stated fact
am glad you have convictions, beliefs and ideals even if I don't share them
can't believe I ate the whole thing!
do not heart huckabees.
might heart huckabees if I knew what one was
don't know why Paris Hilton is famous, other than for being famous.
sometimes laugh at retarded people
read magazines like "Life & Style" and "Us Weekly" while stuck in traffic
caught you this delicious bass
just learned that Bill Clinton is a huckabee.
am not impressed.
know you are, but what am I?

Custom List: Things My Grandma Told me

Wed, 19 Apr 2006 16:11:22 GMT

Things My Grandma Told me

Always wear clean underwear, just in case someone sees them. Never mind whom, just wear them. It's not going to kill you.
It's hard to be depressed when you're getting a pedicure
A well fitting bra is worth the price.
Never chew with your mouth open, and never talk with food in your mouth. Even a house on fire can wait for you to swallow
When in doubt, keep your mouth shut.
Wearing pants isn't an excuse for not shaving your legs
There's no such thing as too many pairs of black shoes
You can be too rich and too thin. You can't however, have too many friends.
You're not a grown up until you can admit your mother was right about that boy.
A glass of wine with dinner is a hallmark of good living
Never call before 9am or after 8pm.
Real is always better than fake.
Don't hit your sister. Some day, she may be bigger than you (they all are too)
Marry the first time for love and the second time for money
Money is like closet space, you'll always use as much as you have.

Custom List: Current Theme Song

Mon, 17 Apr 2006 20:52:06 GMT

Current Theme Song

Fat Bottom Girls
Beats "Baby Got Back" any day of the week

Custom List: Not Hot

Mon, 17 Apr 2006 20:38:39 GMT

Not Hot

Fecal Incontinence
Just the phrase is disgusting. Not to mention it's existance as a side effect of Xenical
Body odor
I mean really, think of the rest of us and at least wear some damn deoderant
Camel toe and/or moose knuckle
Painfull to have, more painfull to see.
Leaving one swig of juice/tea in the pitcher
Just drink it! Leaving ONE SWIG doesn't excuse you from making more!
Dirty baby diapers left in parking lots, shopping carts, park benches..anywhere but the trash
How ghetto. Use the trash can or take it with you in a plastic bag to dispose of ASAP. Leaving them around is just not cool

Custom List: Cast of Characters

Mon, 27 Feb 2006 18:23:48 GMT

Cast of Characters

J
The husband
M
The daughter
C
The roommate