Fancy Pants

I buy these pants. They're cute. Flattering through hips and thighs and where ever else these bullshit women's clothes makers say. Flattering in the hips and thighs means you're wearing the right size. Size too small - not flattering, especially in the hips and thighs. And girl, it does nothing for your muffin top except maybe look like you've also got some chunky oat clusters in there too.


Except my pants are Standing Room Only Pants apparently. Sitting in these is like dying.

Why are you wearing pants that are so small?

Screw you. They fit just fine when I'm standing. Roomy even.

It's sitting that's the problem with this damn double-button, clasp, hook and eye, combination lock zipper thing. It's a pulley system and a drawbridge away from the outer gates of Camelot.

That's right. Inside my pants is Camelot. But currently, the perfect empire is being attacked.

Anyway, now I have really fancy bar pants. Except the technical skills required for unzipping them will probably be diminished by alcohol.

An Open Letter to the Woman in the Silver Mercedes

Maybe you missed the day in school when they explained the laws of the universe, but it is physically impossible for you and your big ass Mercedes station wagon to occupy the the same space as my car. No really, it's true. That's called science.

And no amount of you running up close behind me, then over to the side of the lane to peek around and repeating can change the laws of the U N I V E R S E. Even if I had wanted to get over, I couldn't because up in my car we follow universal laws.

My favorite thing about people like you, is that you always end up just screwing yourself. I don't even have to try.

OF COURSE you can speed past me. Duh. You're in a Mercedes, albeit a stupid one. My car has the pick up of an old Grand Canyon Tours donkey. Red lining in my car means going 35 mph. The only people I can cut off was pedestrians.

But your dumb ass tried to pass in a lane that was ending. An ending lane with a Marta bus in it.

Want to know what's slower than my car and an old trail-weary donkey? Yeah, that's right - a Marta bus. Especially a handicapped one. You know wheelchairs are heavy.

And the only person with more road rage than you this morning was the BMW in front of me. He apparently noticed all of your irritating behavior as well. So while you're trying to go 0 to 60 in about 100 feet, he's making sure that the distance between his car and mine is too small for your stupid station wagon.

Should've gotten something small and sporty for you $80,000.

And then like 35 other cars pass you all stuck up behind the city bus and you actually miss the light entirely. Hahaha! God the universe I live in is satisfying.

Good Dog, Bad Homeless Man

I've decided my dog is ungrateful. He has no idea how nice he has it. If he could spend just one night as a homeless man, he'd recognize just how awesome of a master I really am (though I am not advocating for the enslavement of homeless).

First of all, he lives in a house. Homeless people don't have houses. Secondly, if he did live outside in the yard - city ordinance says he has to have a shelter. There's no city ordinance that homeless people must have a shelter. In fact, being homeless in my city is actually a crime.

Nigel is allowed to beg for food. Homeless people are not. Nigel gets his bowl filled whenever he wants. Homeless people don't get anything they want ever. Nigel goes to the groomer and no one steals all of his belongings while he's in the shower. Nigel has medical insurance and a microchip because if he were lost, I'd want him returned. Schizophrenic homeless people only believe they've been microchipped.

Do not drop homeless people off on my doorstep.

Nigel can poop in the yard. If I caught a homeless person pooping in my yard all hell would break lose. NO NO NO MISTER! I'M CALLING THE COPS!

Nigel might get a swat on the nose for doing something wrong. Homeless people get locked up.

The City of Atlanta tore down affordable property to build a dog park. So beloved pets just like Nigel could play and shit on what once could have been homes for the homeless. Hey, let's go to the dog park! Sure and on our way, let's throw money into the fountain and make a wish! Sorry man, I don't have any change. This pocket full of pennies and nickles has wishes to grant. Get a job.

Bums wish for sandwiches.

Nigel gets dog treats at Starbucks. Homeless people aren't even allowed in Starbucks. Nigel has a whole store dedicated to his kind. There's no such thing as Bumsmart.

So what Nigel has to wear a leash? It's so I don't lose him! If I put a leash on a homeless person, people would freak out. But I don't want to lose him! He's my bum!

What was the name of your first childhood homeless person? Cedric.

Nigel get to dress up on Halloween, go door to door and get candy and treats lavished on him. Seriously, poor homeless people. Halloween is suddenly the meanest holiday ever.

They have doggie couture. Hell, they had a televised fashion show on public television! Maybe you should've had those fashion students make clothes for PEOPLE.

Ever seen a pure bred Yorkie layered up in 10 ill-fitting, paint splattered tshirts from the mid-80's?

Exactly.

Wanna Sign My Uterus?

A California gynecologist is being sued for branding a patient's name on her uterus using an "electrocautery device." Wait...wait...what? No, wait...what?


Dr. Red Alinsod removed Ingrid Paulicivic's uterus during an operation at his Orange County office in 2006, according to the complaint posted on The Smoking Gun's website. The Laguna Beach doctor carved "Ingrid" on the organ, according to the site, because he "did not want to get it confused with others." Wait...what? Confuse it with other what? Other uteruses? Isn't that what address labels are for?? He's qualified enough to remove a uterus but he can't operate a fucking Post-It?!? Peel and stick fool. Peel and stick.

Alinsod told the site that labeling of body parts in that manner is not typical. But, he said, he "felt comfortable putting her name on the uterus" since the 47-year-old hairdresser was a "good friend." Wanna know which one of my friends I'm comfortable with writing on my uterus? NONE. I have no BB4VJJ. Sorry bro, we are most definitely not down like that down there.

Oh my gosh, we're so close. Like sisters you know. Like let her write her name on my uterus close.

There's a whole new meaning to being tight with somebody.

I cannot believe that on top of the lesson that we do not cook with semen, I am now having to say we do not write on other people's uteruses.

I don't care if your friends are doing it. I don't care if Oprah endorsed it. Ladies and gentlemen we do not inscribe our names on people's down there and up inside bits. Having your hoohoo removed is not like getting a cast put on. Ain't nobody wanna sign that.

Again, we do not put my name, your name or anyone else's name on a uterus.

http://news.blogs.cnn.com/2010/09/14/doctor-sued-for-branding-patients-uterus/?hpt=T2

Honey Bunches of Ridiculous

How are you going to act like a jackass to me when you're the one eating a bowl of cereal while driving? The reason I honked at you the first time is because you were too busy gobbling up your Fruit Loops to see the light turned green. And yeah, that's the same reason I honked again at the second light. Still, you're the one eating the cereal. Don't get all indignant with me about it and drive extra slow.


So it's true, I did honk the third time because I knew you wouldn't be expecting it and it would scare you while you were trying to slurp up some fruity-flavored milk.

WHO EATS CEREAL WHILE DRIVING?!?

Admittedly, I did not expect you to spill it. That was some sort of cosmic bonus. Lady, you deserve it. Eating cereal while driving is not safe. Later today you'll smell like stank. You are a poor decision maker.

And I laughed until I cried.

Best part, is we're next to each other the next red light by this point and she's gone all Grapenuts on me. She's got her window down, calling me "Silly Rabbit" or something similar and how I need to pull over so she can kick my Lucky Charms.

Bring it milk maid. I'm not scared of you or your little army of tiny marshmallows. I hope you got to eat enough of your Wheaties to back up the the Honey Smacks you're talking right now.

As an aside, I thought of that Honey Smacks frog talking shit while the lady was fussing and it only made me laugh harder. Why a frog anyway? Nothing about amphibians make me think yummy breakfast.

This woman is so mad and she did it all to herself. Don't eat cereal in the car. That's just stupid. But I waved and thanked her as I drove away. It's true, breakfast is a good start to the morning.

The Second Day Hurts Worse

We all know it's the second day that hurts the worst. Right? Yeah, amen sister.

The day after your excellent workout is like good sore. Oh I did such a good job. Hurts so good. I'm sore but I dig it sore.

And then there is the second day after...

This is the day when you wake up to go pee at 12:01AM and fall on the floor because your muscles have now turned into stinging jello. Not only can you not sit down, you can't get back up. Can I sleep in the bathroom? It's the day that you have the misguided idea to wear heels and then change you pants twice to match them, only to end up back in the original pants.

Why the fuck did I put the heels on before I was really sure I wanted to wear these pants? I'm too lazy to take them off to change pants and that equals a lot of hopping. In 5" heels. With stinging jello legs. Only to end up back in the original pants!

I only have like 6 outfits anyway. All go-to pieces. These pieces will be the foundation of a versatile wardrobe and then you can mix and match. Nope, not in my closet. That statement is bs anyway. This outfit is called Wednesday. And I'll wear it every Wednesday until it falls apart or Wednesdays quit happening, whichever comes first.

Hop, prop and finally sit down but I would be God-damned before I take off the shoes to change pants. Screw you physics and your little common sense sidekick. I got this. Hop, hop.

Why am I in 5" heels in the first place? I'm about as graceful as a drunken turtle already. Factor in it's the second day and I'm doomed. I'm pretty sure my calf muscles partially fossilize every time I sit still for longer than 10 minutes. I can barely walk barefoot, let alone balance on wee dainty 5" pegs. What's next? Stick shift in rush hour?

This is why you're supposed to alternate upper and lower body workouts. So you'll at least have one half of your body to rescue the other half should you encounter quicksand or a straight jacket. Total body workouts are total body asking for its.

SAVE YOURSELF! I can't! Yesterday I could've saved myself but it's the second day!! Why oh why God was I not attacked yesterday?!?!?

Sour Grapes Taste Like Chicken

If I had 100+ cats, would you call me insane? But I love them. They're all my babies.

Exactly. So how is it that my neighbor can claim he has 100+ chickens as pets? What are their names? When did they last go to the vet? I have to put my dog on a leash. So where are your 100+ chicken leashes? Where's your one pig leash? I don't let my pets or babies play in the road. Go get the 84 what's-their-names that you love so dearly out of the road!!

If you luuuuuuved them so much why don't you take better care of them? Don't you think they'd like a nice clean yard to walk around in? I think I heard one hen say she was over that goddamn rooster crowing all the time too. I'm not buying your all natural food desire either. People who smoke can't also claim to be pro-healthy lifestyle. It's like meth addict dentist. Ain't right. No one touts free-range cesspool farming.

My body is my temple. I'm fairly sure your persecuting yourself.

Them cows got two heads because of the pollutants in the grass but at least we don't lock them up inside all day and night. Who knows, maybe one day little two-headed Betsy will end up on display in the Georgia State Capital Building.

Can someone please explain why that cow is on display there? And why we force our primary-schoolers to parade past it on field trips to learn about how the state government works?? Visiting politicians must be really impressed. Those people in Georgia are backwards, they believe a two-headed cow is an important symbol of statehood. Retards.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch...
How is it that he has been able to turn this whole thing into an issue about individual rights and freedom from government interference? They're 100ish chickens! Last time I checked, your rights didn't supersede mine.

Well children are just as loud as my pets, maybe even more so. You know what, if you give birth to a chicken, you may keep it. Keep all the little chickens, pigs and whatever else you give birth too. And I'll be happy to instruct my CHILD to not make fun of the "feathery weirdo kids" across the street. We'll chit-chat about discipline at the bus stop. HAHA, how ever you ever get them to cross the road!!

Do you know how badly I wish I knew someone with a coyote? Or a chicken hawk? How is it possible I don't have a friend that practices falconry? LAZY...
You and your chickens can go pluck yourselves.