"A chick in Port St. Lucie, FL suspected her husband of getting it on with another lady, so naturally, she asked to smell his dick area for strange pussy juice odors. The 37-year-old woman followed her husband to the bathroom and told him to whip his dick out "so that she can smell it."
Her 25-year-old husband was not amused, because when she went down to get a whiff, he punched her in the mouth and kicked at her body. After the bastard beat at her, he left the house. Police are currently searching his ass"
What a friggen hoot! Many thanks to the Trailer Trash Couple of the Year in Port St. Lucie, FL for the laugh!
Source
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Become a vegetarian Thursday
Here's a visual to get you started:
This is a duck. A skrawny duck. A very well done duck. Yuck Mr.Duck. Yuck, yuck, yuck. I no eatie duck. Yuck.
This is a duck. A skrawny duck. A very well done duck. Yuck Mr.Duck. Yuck, yuck, yuck. I no eatie duck. Yuck.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Hate, Hate, Hate with a side of Hate.
I hate my natural gas company. I hate how we as consumers are gouged over natural gas prices. I hate how there is only one company to get it from. I hate how those lazy bastards can't even come out to actually READ my friggen meter. I just received my bill which went up 150% from last month. W...T....F. I have my thermostat on 69 degrees 24 hours a day. It's electronic so it's set for that temp and we do NOT touch it. Now of course it's been colder outside but 150% colder than last month? Bullshit. My bill went from $63.00 to a $190.
Are you fucking kidding me?
So I look at the meter read. Uh, no, the meter was estimated not an actual read. Bullshit if I'm going to pay it. BULLSHIT. I'm really pissed over this. I'm calling Monday and fighting with them over this.
Like I really need this shit now.
Are you fucking kidding me?
So I look at the meter read. Uh, no, the meter was estimated not an actual read. Bullshit if I'm going to pay it. BULLSHIT. I'm really pissed over this. I'm calling Monday and fighting with them over this.
Like I really need this shit now.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Happy Shopping!!
December 18th is FREE shipping day!! Go here and find out all the merchants (there are a ton) that are participating. They all promise that your gift will arrive by Christmas too.
I heart free.
I heart free.
Monday, December 8, 2008
Wow.
I got into a pretty big fight with DH. I was uber pissed and slammed outta the house for retail therapy at Costco. When I got home, of course I was still pissed but then I saw this .
I don't "know" this gal. I've seen her s/n around the message boards. I ask you to say a prayer for her and her little boys. How tragic a loss, especially at this time of year.
It made me think twice about the dumb ass (sort of) fight I had w/DH. You never know how much time you have with someone. It's things like this that drive it home.
I don't "know" this gal. I've seen her s/n around the message boards. I ask you to say a prayer for her and her little boys. How tragic a loss, especially at this time of year.
It made me think twice about the dumb ass (sort of) fight I had w/DH. You never know how much time you have with someone. It's things like this that drive it home.
Jerry! Jerry! Jerry!
20 y/o female brought in by ambulance. Chief complaint: ETOH (alchol intoxication) and possible domestic. Looking at her she's:
1. definitely intoxicated
2. from a trailer park or shack town (run down area of duplexes a couple cities away)
3. on the verge of drunk crying
Male nurse: "Man, you should see the stretch marks on her"
Me: "What? Are you serious?"
Male nurse: "Yah, they're HUGE"
Me: "You're a piece of work. She's probably had a baby, you ass. Newsflash! You get stretch marks with pregnancy!"
Male nurse: "She did. Actually twins."
Me: "You're a Tool."
Male nurse: "Hey, I'm not the one with stretch marks that would make Rand McNally jealous and wearing a 1/2 shirt to show 'em off."
Me: "Still a tool"
So the story goes.....chickie is married to a 45 y/o. This also happens to be her friend's dad. They've been married since she was 17. She had been drinking, passed out in a car backseat with no pants on and her 21 y/o stepson in the back seat with her.
Jerry!
It gets better. 45 y/o husband finds them. Gets pissed. She wakes up in a drunken stupor and starts fighting with him. Says her pants were off because she thought it would be fun (I can see this. Sex can be fun with the right person. I'm thinking your 21 y/o stepson might not be that right person). 45 y /o is not buying it. She calls 911 to bring her in. She gets here and now she's bemoaning her life. 45 y/o has the three month old twins at home with him.
Jebus...3 months old.
So now she's claiming that she should have never married him and that she thinks he's a pedophile.
WHAT THE FUCK.
Yah, a pedophile. So she never elaborates whether he's a suspected pedophile because he married a 17 y/o three years ago OR because he's puttin' the moves on her babies or someone else's kids.
An hour later, 45 y/o shows up. 1st she doesn't want to see him. So we call security to make sure there isn't a problem when he's told that she doesn't want to see him. Then 5 minutes later she decides she'll see him. Only she never specifies which "him" she wants to see. Naturally we let the 45 y/o back.
FAIL!
He's in there about 2 minutes and leaves. Next! Here comes the 21 y/o stepson. All crying ceases from the room...giggling starts and hugs are exchanged. We obviously let in the wrong guy 1st.
45 y/o leaves with the twin girls and stepson. Chickie is left with us to sober up.
Nice to know that the vicious cycle of whitetrashness will continue with the twin girls.
Jebus.
1. definitely intoxicated
2. from a trailer park or shack town (run down area of duplexes a couple cities away)
3. on the verge of drunk crying
Male nurse: "Man, you should see the stretch marks on her"
Me: "What? Are you serious?"
Male nurse: "Yah, they're HUGE"
Me: "You're a piece of work. She's probably had a baby, you ass. Newsflash! You get stretch marks with pregnancy!"
Male nurse: "She did. Actually twins."
Me: "You're a Tool."
Male nurse: "Hey, I'm not the one with stretch marks that would make Rand McNally jealous and wearing a 1/2 shirt to show 'em off."
Me: "Still a tool"
So the story goes.....chickie is married to a 45 y/o. This also happens to be her friend's dad. They've been married since she was 17. She had been drinking, passed out in a car backseat with no pants on and her 21 y/o stepson in the back seat with her.
Jerry!
It gets better. 45 y/o husband finds them. Gets pissed. She wakes up in a drunken stupor and starts fighting with him. Says her pants were off because she thought it would be fun (I can see this. Sex can be fun with the right person. I'm thinking your 21 y/o stepson might not be that right person). 45 y /o is not buying it. She calls 911 to bring her in. She gets here and now she's bemoaning her life. 45 y/o has the three month old twins at home with him.
Jebus...3 months old.
So now she's claiming that she should have never married him and that she thinks he's a pedophile.
WHAT THE FUCK.
Yah, a pedophile. So she never elaborates whether he's a suspected pedophile because he married a 17 y/o three years ago OR because he's puttin' the moves on her babies or someone else's kids.
An hour later, 45 y/o shows up. 1st she doesn't want to see him. So we call security to make sure there isn't a problem when he's told that she doesn't want to see him. Then 5 minutes later she decides she'll see him. Only she never specifies which "him" she wants to see. Naturally we let the 45 y/o back.
FAIL!
He's in there about 2 minutes and leaves. Next! Here comes the 21 y/o stepson. All crying ceases from the room...giggling starts and hugs are exchanged. We obviously let in the wrong guy 1st.
45 y/o leaves with the twin girls and stepson. Chickie is left with us to sober up.
Nice to know that the vicious cycle of whitetrashness will continue with the twin girls.
Jebus.
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Friday, December 5, 2008
More screetching from the front lines.......
*Work SUCKED yesterday. S-U-C-K-E-D. I can't go into it further because there are eyes everywhere. I'm so not getting fired because I bitched on a blog...KWIM?
*I'm gonna kill my AH (ha! figure that one out) because he keeps letting the flying monkeys play with G.D play dough in part duex's room. That shit is
E-V-E-R-Y-W-H-E-R-E. I'm sick and GD tired of cleaning it up so I refuse to do it anymore. I told AH, either you clean that shit up or I throw all the shit out and blame YOU when the beasts cry. BAM!
*I'm exhausted and too tired to do anything about it. That's pretty sad.
*I've still got effing bronchitis. I'm so beyond done with this. I'm already on antibiotics. I honestly hate working in a hospital. You take home EVERYTHING.
*I'm sooooo done with volunteering to work the effing PTA shit. I signed up to work the book fair. I didn't want to but there wasn't but one lady signed up so I felt bad (mistake #1). That was at least 2.5 weeks prior to the event. Did I get a phone call?? No. Did I leave my phone number on the sign up sheet? Yes. So the event day comes and I feel like shit (see above bronchitis gripe) but I'm gonna show because I said I would (mistake #2). I drop Part Duex off at class then go the table and say that I'm here to volunteer. The chick there says, "Hmm, OK. That makes 3 of us then." I said, "I wonder why they'd schedule 3 of us for this thing when there are only two chairs and room for two at the checkout table." The next lady shows up and after I tell her why I'm there she says, "Oh they must not have called you to not come." I said well I'm gonna leave because I don't feel well and you are obviously don't need the extra help.
I'm sick of the lack of communication with these friggen groups. This isn't the 1st time the left hand has no idea what the right is doing. I'm not doing it anymore.
*FYI: doubling up on your anti-depressant only makes you more tired.
*Why do I bother cooking dinner if no one eats it?
*Feet. I wish I could cut mine off. On average, I have to buy new work shoes (read athletic shoes my fav being New Balance) every 3 months. The insides die even though the outside looks new still. It's a fact of life when you work on your feet so I've accepted it. I usually get them at Kohl's because they have the best sales on New Balance. I couldn't find my size in Fred Flintstone width this last time so I bought men's since they're usually wider than women's. Big Mistake. From go my feet killed in those shoes. I lasted 2 weeks and I had to break down and buy another pair of women's this time. Now my feet hurt like a mutha and it doesn't help that we've been busy at work.
My kingdom for a foot massage.
Rant off.
*I'm gonna kill my AH (ha! figure that one out) because he keeps letting the flying monkeys play with G.D play dough in part duex's room. That shit is
E-V-E-R-Y-W-H-E-R-E. I'm sick and GD tired of cleaning it up so I refuse to do it anymore. I told AH, either you clean that shit up or I throw all the shit out and blame YOU when the beasts cry. BAM!
*I'm exhausted and too tired to do anything about it. That's pretty sad.
*I've still got effing bronchitis. I'm so beyond done with this. I'm already on antibiotics. I honestly hate working in a hospital. You take home EVERYTHING.
*I'm sooooo done with volunteering to work the effing PTA shit. I signed up to work the book fair. I didn't want to but there wasn't but one lady signed up so I felt bad (mistake #1). That was at least 2.5 weeks prior to the event. Did I get a phone call?? No. Did I leave my phone number on the sign up sheet? Yes. So the event day comes and I feel like shit (see above bronchitis gripe) but I'm gonna show because I said I would (mistake #2). I drop Part Duex off at class then go the table and say that I'm here to volunteer. The chick there says, "Hmm, OK. That makes 3 of us then." I said, "I wonder why they'd schedule 3 of us for this thing when there are only two chairs and room for two at the checkout table." The next lady shows up and after I tell her why I'm there she says, "Oh they must not have called you to not come." I said well I'm gonna leave because I don't feel well and you are obviously don't need the extra help.
I'm sick of the lack of communication with these friggen groups. This isn't the 1st time the left hand has no idea what the right is doing. I'm not doing it anymore.
*FYI: doubling up on your anti-depressant only makes you more tired.
*Why do I bother cooking dinner if no one eats it?
*Feet. I wish I could cut mine off. On average, I have to buy new work shoes (read athletic shoes my fav being New Balance) every 3 months. The insides die even though the outside looks new still. It's a fact of life when you work on your feet so I've accepted it. I usually get them at Kohl's because they have the best sales on New Balance. I couldn't find my size in Fred Flintstone width this last time so I bought men's since they're usually wider than women's. Big Mistake. From go my feet killed in those shoes. I lasted 2 weeks and I had to break down and buy another pair of women's this time. Now my feet hurt like a mutha and it doesn't help that we've been busy at work.
My kingdom for a foot massage.
Rant off.
Fat Ass Friday
Overnight Caramel Cinnamon Rolls
· 1/4 Cup Butter
· 1/2 Cup Brown Sugar
· 3/4 tsp cinnamon
· 1 pkg butterscotch cook and serve pudding -- DO NOT USE INSTANT!
· 1 pkg frozen bread dough balls
1. Lightly grease bottom and sides of bundt or angel food pan.
2. Place 18-20 frozen bread balls in pan -- cut back on the number if the bread balls fill the pan more than 1/2 way.
3. Sprinkle entire pkg of butterscotch pudding over the bread balls.
4. Melt together remaining ingredients in microwave. Drizzle over the bread balls. Set on counter overnight.
5. The next morning bake at 350 degrees for 23-30 minutes.
6. Enjoy!
Recipe and photo courtesy of Momster
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
