because these three things made me constantly lol today:
ok, 4 things. because this came in the mail:
i just want her book in my paws.
i need to stop thinking i’m invincible. i made some poor choices this weekend in regards to food and alcohol and my poor, poor body is currently paying the price.
my back hurts because i spent the majority of my day yesterday hunched over the toilet. my head is pounding. and everything i encounter is literally the most annoying thing ever. people are walking loud and they are talking even louder. it’s crazytown.
and on top of all of that – lincoln is making me give charchar binks the cat back to its original owner because he’s a fucking devil-man.
from here on out – he will be referred to as shitler. in an effort to campaign against his current nazi regime – my friend made some convincing photos that are pretty self-explanatory.
i’ve decided to occupy the pussy for catgate 2K12. although i’m not sure if i’m utilizing the concept correctly. or if that makes me a democrat or a republican. or if it makes a nazi. or if this will even work.
i’m sure it won’t. shitler doesn’t even care that he’s literally ripping my heart out.
if you’re someone like Lincoln, you shit more than the average person. sometimes you shit while still trying to ingest whatever it is that you’re eating (also Lincoln, and in his case it’s usually Taco Bell).
everyone has their routines when they shit. some take their phones into the bathrooom with them (don’t you dare try to deny it). some people prefer a magazine. Lincoln has a book of crossword puzzles he tackles (which is good for him, because it’s chock full of them and since he shits about 7 times a day, it keeps him occupied).
frankly, when i’m in the bathroom, whether it’s 1 or 2 – i just prefer to be alone. but that is utterly impossible in my house. between Lincoln barging in and the obsessive animals – it’s like a goddamn party in the bathroom.
it never fails that mac will barge in if you do not close the door to the bathroom and make sure that it latches properly. the cat will yowl at the door to be let in or sneak in when you don’t realize it and occupy himself in the bathtub. murphy usually supervises.
the thought of me having children is utterly terrifying, but the fur babies in my home make it seem like i’m already a weird type of mother. all three of them follow me everywhere and they’re constantly underfoot. the cat isn’t a big deal. but when two 50+ pound dogs need to be as close to you as possible – it gets a tad annoying.
i haven’t even #2’d yet this AM. i’m sitting in bed while Lincoln slumbers next to me. my food porn is on and i have a coffee in hand (so #2 shouldn’t be too far off).
i realize this post has been about nothing. and murphy just belched while laying next to me.
consider this a teaser – but my next post will be about a killer movie called “Yeti.”
i love vodka. i love the bar. i love drinking.
so anyone that truly knows me, knows i’m usually full of shit when i say i’m going to stop drinking.
but back in October, i decided that i wanted to stop being so fucking chubby. so i went on a diet. which meant i had to give up my dearest friend, vodka. most doubted me. and with good reason. i’m not very good at following through with things i say i’m going to do. but i must say, fuck you very much, for those that didn’t believe i could do it (Lincoln) because it’s now been thirty-two days on this motherfucking diet with zero alcohol.
don’t get me wrong – it’s been fucking miserable. aside from waking up and not feeling like a piece of shit, the only other plus has been that i’ve actually dropped weight.
so, although many of you could care less, i am presenting the last thirty-two days in the form of pictures and words.
enjoy or destroy.
first and foremost. i’ve read an assload of books in the last month.
become more obsessed with all things related to cooking and baking and blogging.
discovered many things about the pussy residing in our house.
learned that Lincoln loves his new shotgun more than me (i’m not even kidding. the night he got it he suggested i sleep on the couch).
found that i truly enjoy encouraging/peer pressuring others to binge drink.
crafted x-mas presents. i would post pictures but i will refrain (even though they turned out awesome). i don’t want to assume that people even read this blog, but with my luck the people getting said gifts will see them here and everything will be ruined.
watched Foy learn how to eat a crab leg.
learned that Murphy Lee is a HUGE Rush fan. and that Lincoln hates clothing for dogs. but i don’t think band tees should count.
this is unrelated. but G bought me this hat. and i love it.
so that’s it. that’s what i’ve been doing. nothing exciting.
i realize that i could blog more – since i’m not hammered all the time.
i apologize if this bored anyone. i’d like to think it didn’t.
but leave some comments if it did.
i really like ‘lil wayne, although i rarely listen to him or even have any of his music but this line always resonates with me.
‘cuz if you lookin’ for me you can find me on the block disobeyin’ the law
I’m still sick.
I feel no better and no worse (which I’ll chalk up to a small victory). I think the worst thing about being sick with this cold thing is the state of perpetual confusion I’m living in. Anything I do takes three times as long to do and I just plain don’t know what the fuck is going on.
To top things off – I decided it was appropriate to drink last night (which at the time seemed like a great idea and my face hurt a lot less what with the cocktail of meds and drinks). But this morning I can’t determine whether this terrible state I’m in is due to a hangover or this fucking cold.
So I made this poll:
But I digress. I found this conversation between B and myself and I laughed. Which then turned into a sneezing fit which led to hacking my brains out. Enjoy.
B: What are you guys doing for the games today?
Me: Sitting at home. Come over. I’m going to make Angry Bird cupcakes.
B: While Lincoln and I watch football?
B: Women in the kitchen cooking while the men watch football. It’s the American way.
Me: Go fuck yourself.
B: Blow me.
Me: I don’t want anything to do with your ornery dick.
B: I’m going to punch you in the twat.
Me: Likely story.
B: We shall see.
In totally unrelated news, check out this picture of a cat in a trash can:
I know this a screen shot of a video. But the state I was in last night when I took the video was a hazy one. One where you’re trying to take a picture and you realize you’re on video and you’re like “fuck!”
And I’m far to lazy to crop anything.