Suck It, Winter

The settling in to the new place is coming along quite nicely. We finally took some time to hang some stuff on the walls and even went furniture shopping. Surprisingly we both agreed on a numerous amount of living sets and more than likely we'll be buying in the near future.



No matter where we live there will always be a place in our home for this sign.

Every time I look at it I am instantly reminded of my girls, Elle and Princess. I miss y'all. *weep*

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After a week of moving and unpacking and bickering we decided a night on the town with friends was needed. The best Chinese food in town, beers, good friends, and laughs was soul healing.





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Me: Hey! Wouldn't it be great if we had under cabinet lights in the kitchen? It would be so nice!

Thomas: Yea, sure. I can do that.



Two trips to Home Depot, a few curse words, and four hours later...



It's absolutely beautiful and I am THRILLED with the outcome. However, we both came to a mutual decision that there would be no way in HELL we would take them with us when we eventually move. Those suckers are in there FO LIFE.

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Thomas and I aren't big football fans and decided to pass on the watching of The Super Bowl. BUT, we did take advantage of the 50 nuggets for $10 deal. BEHOLD!



That right there is a box full of fat filled and delicious lovin'. And before you even ask, yes we did split it and no we did not split the fries. Thomas got us our OWN fries. Super sized. Because I do not, I repeat, I DO NOT share fries. I don't care if you're my best friend, a homeless starving person on the street, or the man I vowed to spend the rest of my life with. I will not share my fries with you.

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I am a simple person when it comes to jewelry. I like classic designs, silver or white gold, and beautiful pieces that will go with almost anything. My friend Tracy at Minty Mocha Designs has a great on-line jewelry store where she makes each piece by hand. She even gives the pieces cute names!



One day she posted these and I absolutely HAD to have them. Her, being super awesome, sent them to me right away and they are adorable. They are a bit smaller than they appear which only makes me love them more. Fantastic job, Tracy!

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Um, I would like to know who in the holy HELL told Texas that it was winter. Because this is some bullshit.





It's been snowing all day. Literally. And according to our local news we all just may die. But see, this crap is exactly why I moved to Texas from Missouri. To AVOID snow. However, winter has made me it's bitch this year. Yes, I know that other parts of the country have been absolutely DUMPED on recently and they're out of power and food and blah blah but really, I expected better from my state.

Stay warm, folks.

Helloooooo Club 1312

We moved. Every piece of furniture and every box we lifted and hauled ourselves. That may not sound all that bad to most people but those people haven't tried to lift our 800lb television and the just as bad armoire that it goes in.

We managed to get everything done with minimal amounts of bickering. I consider a move where at the end you don't hate your spouse to be a success. Did we have varying opinions about where important items go? Sure we did. That argument about where exactly the silverware should go in the kitchen was totally called-for. And let us never speak of the Furniture Placement Incident. Suffice it to say, I am completely nutty butters and Thomas should be considered a Saint for having to deal with me and my OCD/I am a woman and I like things to match/I cannot mentally handle that the living room window is UN-FUCKING-EVEN on the living room wall.

I hate moving.

We are unpacked and settling in nicely. Both of us are enjoying our much MUCH shorter commutes to work and the dogs are enjoying the fact that there are new smells EVERYWHERE and they MUST be smelled this damn INSTANT. I swear their nostrils are working overtime right now.

I have to admit, this apartment is kinda creeping me out. I have yet to hear any neighbors. Not a child screaming, or snoring, or even a door slamming. It's like we live in a house! But without the backyard and the right to put pink flamingos in the front yard.

This apartment and it's spaciousness is downright glorious. We have ROOM. Almost more room than we know what to do with. And what do we need to do to fill up all that extra space? You guessed it. We need to go furniture shopping. I cannot WAIT for that argument.

Christmastime Gives Me An Excuse To Consume Bad Things

Other than buttermilk or liquefied Crisco it seems that eggnog is one of the most fattiest products you can drink. I don't know about you but I'm not a huge fan of buttermilk and drinking Crisco may sound like fun but I'll bet it's not all that tasty. However, I can imagine the internal lubrication and the constant moisturized skin would be lovely.

Eggnog brings back fond memories for me. As far back as I can remember, starting on Thanksgiving, my grandmother would always have a carton of eggnog in her fridge. I would pour myself a small glass and sip it because if I drank too much at one sitting I would just puke it all up and really, that's just being wasteful. Me being... well me at the time I didn't know this and was told, "Hey! Stop drinking all the goddamned eggnog in one sitting. All yer gonna do is throw it up. One small glass at a time!" Trust me when I say this was done all in a soft tone and out of love. She had referred to me as "Hey!" and not as my full name so that meant the level of shit I was in was lower than average. As we all know, when our elders scream out our full names it's time to hide in the closet and pray to the deity of your choice that you don't get a whoopin. Also, quickly prepare a story of exactly how you didn't do whatever it is you're about to get in trouble for. Anyways, my love affair with eggnog is long and full of fond (and not so fond) memories.

Not so fond memory being that one time on Christmas Eve when I thought it would be hilarious if I snuck some rum into my eggnog. Seeing as how the smell of the nog would cover the smell of the booze no one would be the wiser! Heh. No one was the wiser until I started acting like a drunk and slurring my words. Drinking was never considered a big deal in my family, especially on holidays that required us to interact with each other for hours at a time, and more than likely my mother figured that I would realize the next morning just exactly how much I would live to regret that decision to spike the eggnog. She was right. There's nothing worse than having your three year old sister wake you up in at 5 in the morning because, "OMG Santa Claus came!" and hauling your 14 year-old hungover butt outta bed to open gifts when you feel like death. And so began my hatred for hangovers and really, shouldn't I have learned my lesson by now?

Each year at Christmas I look forward to purchasing that one carton of eggnog to savor. Seeing as how most people I know loathe the creamy egg filled deliciousness made by the hands of Jesus himself I can usually assume I will get the whole thing to myself. This year is no different. I have been fighting the 'nog craving for weeks now and yesterday I gave in. With the excuse that I would save it to take to the in-laws house on Christmas I was more than willing to share my treat. However, I learned that none of my in-laws liked eggnog. It's a Christmas miracle! Thank you sweet baby Jesus! With that knowledge and with my craving finally getting the better of me I busted into that cold jug. Poured myself a big glass and happily sat in bed and sipped it. Well at first I sipped it, then gulped it down and the best part is... I didn't even feel guilty about it. It's full of calories and sugar and fat and everything that is bad for me but I didn't care. It was so very very tasty.

I have a feeling the eggnog won't last the week.

Now I've shared my favorite Christmas treat, so what's yours? What do you absolutely HAVE to have?

Blocked

I am currently suffering from an incredibly awful case of Blogger's Block. In order to get over this I plan to throw out random bullcrap just to see if this gets me over the hump. If it does, Hurrah! If it doesn't, well shit, I dunno.

From the 'I'm the best wife in the history of evar' file:

Thomas has been wanting some bling for a while now. We've wondered from shop to shop, store to store, trying to find the perfect accessory for him. You know the one. Blingy, yet not too blingy. Shiny, but something that doesn't scream, "Hey! I'm a guido! Just need a pinky ring and more chest hair and I'm good to go!". What better way to show your love for all things jewelry while still maintaining your non-douchebag status than to sport some lovely baby blue box bling?



Yes, I know, it's perfect. And even though his birthday isn't for another couple of weeks I couldn't contain my excitement. The day it arrived in the mail I proudly handed him the beautiful box and watched his jaw hit the ground. He knew exactly what it was before he even opened it.

Note the pillow the bracelet came wrapped around. In some places you buy a bracelet and it comes wired down to come piece of velvet lined cardboard. When you buy from Tiffany it comes with it's own PILLOW. And bag. AND box. Lord.Have.Mercy.


From the 'I too am growing tired of talking/hearing about my own weight loss' file:

I can't help it though, it's like I'm obsessed with it. I would bet you that I think about calories and carbs and protein and calories spent and workout routines at LEAST 8-9 hours a day. The rest of the time is filled with eating, sleeping, doing actual work, staring at the TV mindlessly, Mafia Wars, sex, and/or sleeping.

The eating itself is completely insane. I HAVE to eat in order to lose weight. Seriously. How insane is that?! It used to be that I would go one or two days without eating and I'd drop 10lbs like it was nothing. Now? HA! Yea, right. Now if I don't eat, I don't lose weight. I don't gain muscle, I don't lose fat.

Yes, I realize this is not a scientific breakthrough on my part. This has been known for many a years, BUT it's new to me.

I am so very very close to a HUGE goal. So close I can smell it, I can see it. It's hard though. If my eating isn't right I lose all energy. If I eat too much I feel weight down. Eat too little I barely have the strength to lift that curl bar once, let alone the three dozen times I'm supposed to. It's frustrating and exciting all at the same time.

The world outside of our home is a cruel place. Everywhere we turn is food that we shouldn't eat. Food that we can't eat. By can't I mean we can, but unless we want to live on Gaviscon and Pepto the rest of the night it's better that we abstain.

From the 'It's about damn time' file:

Let's all congratulate Thomas on his new writing endeavor - The Quest to be Broly: True Tales From A Non-Gym Rat.

In this blog we will follow my fabulous husband in his quest to become stronger, fitter, an healthier. However, not sexier because, you know, he's already at max capacity for that.

He is funny and witty and there are pictures! So go read it, dammit.


From the 'Welcome to Texas! Now let's drink beer and play with firearms' file:

Last weekend was my annual office Christmas party out on a ranch in the middle of nowhere. The greatest thing about being in the middle of nowhere is you can have bad aim and worst case scenario you might shoot a tree. Or a cow. Whichever.

You may find the entire set of photos here but these are a few of my favorites:


It was cold out there. Like super duper freezing red nose cold. The booze and the Baileys in my coffee definitely helped.


I think someone was feeling pretty good at this point. We all headed out to the field to get our shootin' on.


Moo


He is so very very gangster.


Ugh. Seriously. Must I cheese it up in every single fucking picture?


There we go. Much better. Bad ass status: Confirmed!


Speaking of bad asses...


The bad assness was short lived. Oh well. At least I look cute with my pink gun.


We are so super cute. Finished shooting, heading back to the house for warmth. And more beer.

Pro Tip

If you carry a purse and in this purse you carry around a few different bottles of medications AND those bottles tend to be the same in color and size, please take my advice: Don't be a retard and not look at the labels before taking pills or else you might end up taking two caffeine pills instead of two Midols like you had originally intended. And then you'll end up wired like a methhead on a binge WITH some cramping, bloating, and irritability.

Thatisall.

I Feel Pretty...Oh So Pretty...The Lower Half At Least

After HOURS of scanning the intarwebz I FINALLY found a bathing suit I didn't entirely loathe, courtesy of Victoria's Secret. I didn't have to spend a fortune on it, I even got free shipping too. It was perfect. Until I put it on.

I had tried to order what I THOUGHT would fit me properly but apparently I over-estimated the size of my ass and UNDER-estimated the size of my torso. Whoops! So when I put it on a basically looked like a lumpy sausage with a baggy ass.

I.am.so.hot.

Needless to say, that suit is going back.

This is where I give MAD props to VS and their system. I found another suit online, called their number, and they are sending it to me with no shipping, AND it took all of about 5 minutes. Dear God I hope this one fits me or else...well I don't know but SOMETHING will happen! More than likely I'll throw myself on the floor and cry like a toddler. Or maybe I'll grow up and just re-order another damn suit. Whichever.

In other news, I am excited to report that there are 51 days til my fine Victoria's Secret swimsuit clad ass will be on A BOAT headed for Mexico. I.CANNOT.WAIT.

64 Days

I'd like to blame my lack of posts on mucho excitement and the fact that I'm so busy that I never have time to post, but I'd be lying. It's mostly out of pure laziness really. So today I give you a post with random pictures from my Jesus phone, I mean iPhone.


Lee Trevino? Is that you? And why are you in Dallas eating at Five Guys? I'm so confused.


Every now and again my retired boss comes into the office to take a break from his cattle ranching obsession. When he does he's usually packing mass amounts of heat. This one was just cute though. Made me want to Bedazzle it and keep it in a bright pink holster with a Hello Kitty sticker on it.


Ugh, Texas summers. 105 degrees is insane.


Three hours to go from red to kinda blonde. A trial of what I'll have done before leaving for Vegas. I looked like an alien with all that foil on my head. A smelly peroxided up alien.


Me not long after the three hour hair makeover and a whopping $135.00. I love my hairdresser. Oh and I'm a camera whore.


Have I mentioned that Thomas is a chef? A really really fantastic chef? One that makes me yummy dinners that are also really effing healthy? Gotdayum I love that man.

Thank God I'm Good At Swallowing

After six days of pure torture and agony I finally went to the doctor yesterday. The knee just kept getting worse and even with copious amounts of rest, booze, painkillers, and begging it to stop hurting I couldn't take it anymore. Worried at the possibility that I had caused more damage to myself than I knew I went in for my x-rays and waited to hear that I was well and truly fucked. Funny enough, I wasn't. It was a muscle sprain. A sprain that would heal in a week or so with more rest, a knee brace, and some anti-inflammatories. Not bad right? Heh.




LOOK at my sexy fucking brace. Isn't it DIVINE? Hell yes it is! In coordinating black with TWO Velcro straps and a sweet hole for my knee to breathe through. Also, please take note of my fabulous shoes and even more fabulous pedicure. Purple nail polish rocks my face off. And yes, that's a flower painted on my big toe. A FLOWER! With a sparkly bedazzled thing in the center of it. Cause I'm the shit.

Now, here's where the "cure" for this injury gets a little scary. I'm not a huge fan of swallowing pills to begin with so imagine my horror when I was given these...




Do you SEE how big it is?! It's almost an inch long! An inch may not seem like a whole lot to you but try sliding one of those down your throat and trust a bitch, I think you'll be changing your mind. I've got no problem taking your regular everyday over the counter pain relievers so I'm no baby about pill swallowing, but this thing is just ridiculous. However, this pill is supposed to be a gift from Jesus himself in that it heals all and even though I have to snap this fucker in half in order to get it down my throat I will take it. Thank you dear sweet baby Jesus for your healing pills. They better fucking work. Amen.

Two Days

TWO! DAYS! Twotwotwotwotwo daysdaysdaysdaysdays.

I'm so excited I might just wet my pants.

48 hours from now I'll be about to board my plane, headed towards my gurls. Land of sun, fun, and drunk bitches. 72 hours from now? God knows what I'll be doing but I have a feeling whatever it is my liver will be screaming, "MAKE IT STOP. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD ENOUGH ALCOHOL ALREADY".

Two days, bitches.


P.S. Princess and Elle: I apologize in advance for the cards I'm giving you. Hallmark can eat a fucking dick.

Facebook Addicted Vain Dirty Whore

First off, isn't it amazing what a good haircut will do for the soul? I'm vain enough as it is and stop to look at myself in every mirror I come across but it's just getting ridiculous now. When your rear view mirror is permanently pointed at you instead of at a position to you know VIEW THINGS BEHIND YOU so that you can gaze at your gorgeous mug every few seconds and correct your fabulous shiny lipgloss if necessary and play with your newly acquired bangs then you know you've got a problem.

I think I'm officially addicted to Facebook. Just when I think I've checked out every app and every quiz and every status update BOOM! something new comes along and then I spend hours (HOURS!) of my day either messing with it or sending it to the 11ty million people in my friends list. Most of whom do not give a flying rat's ass how many people I'd like to punch in the face (Rachael Ray, Bob Costas, Paula Abdul, Michael Moore, and slow drivers), or the top five things I think I'll need if zombies attack (my gun, a flame thrower, a water purification system, a pink Hummer, and an unlimited supply of protein bars), or even that I sent them a piece of fucking flair (My current favorite, "I'm why the rum is gone" LULZ) but do you think I care? HA! I do not. You're still getting those damn app invites whether you like it or not. Also, don't forget to either like or comment on my recent status update kthxbai.

In other news, I *heart* Texas weather. It was in the 90's here yesterday. THE 90'S! IN APRIL! GOD BLESS GLOBAL WARMING. It won't be long now and my ass will be poolside, throwin' back the Miller Lite like it's going out of fucking style.

8! DAYS! TIL! SWMH CLUB! CINCO DE DRINKO! AUGHT NUEVE! RE-COG-NIZE.



That up there? That is gonna be on the front of our new sweet ass SWMH Club t-shirts. And THAT was drawn by Elle with her bad ass paint skillz. Again: re-cog-nize. Oh and it's not the picture playing tricks on your eyes, my boobs really are that small, especially compared to the other two cause that's how it is in REAL LIFE. I am NOT even kidding. Them womens have got some tig ole bitties but I'd be proud of that shit if I were them and show them off at 3 in the morning in the middle of a goddamned Circle K while virgin clerk boy looks on (surprisingly un-amazed) and Princess yells about kitten burritos.

8 days til I get to see those two fabulous women and when I do I'm going to hug them and squeeze them so hard that they're going to be all like, "Mo, dear, I love you but let me go for fucks sake. I can't breathe." And then we'll LOL and drink beer and eat meat pizza and lay on the bed and talk about what dirty whores we are.

I Swear I'm Not Turning This Into A Work-out Blog *Updated*

When you spend a significant amount of time at the gym on a daily basis you tend to see the same people over and over again. You don't know them and they don't know you but you watch each other and take note of progress made since joining. For instance, there's a woman who's been going to my gym since before I signed up. She's scary. Like I wouldn't want to meet her in a back alley at night kind of scary. She could grind me up and eat me for lunch if I weren't so full of carbs and saturated fats. About a year after I joined she got pregnant and continued coming to the gym well into her pregnancy and then one day she disappeared. I had assumed that she had the baby and decided to forget about her pre-pregnancy body and sit at home and eat bon bons all day. More power to her, but at the same time I was disappointed when I didn't see her pumping iron anymore. Then one day, months later, she reappeared. Then the next day and the day after that. Now she's there every time I am and you would never be able to tell that not only did she have a baby less than two years ago but that she also has two other children. The woman is a goddamned machine.


Then there's Blue Shirt/Maroon Pants Guy. This guy started coming to the gym not long after me and signed up to work with a trainer on a weekly basis. The guy must've spent a fortune in training sessions and I can say that in the two years I've seen him there he hasn't changed one damn bit. He's still got a gut and a double chin but I'll give him credit, he's tenacious. He shows up multiple days a week and breaks a sweat now and again but he still looks exactly like he did the first day I saw him there. Funny enough, he's still wearing the same workout clothes he was back then too (hence the name).


Although I tend to see the same people there I also see different people every time I step in the place. Most look like total newbs who have no fucking clue what they're doing and others look like they're there just to pick up some strange or meet the new Mr. or Mrs. Right. It's a people watcher's paradise right there but unfortunately there are plenty of people I'd rather not deal with. People who make going to the gym just a little harder than it should be. People who I'd generally avoid in real life but am now forced to share air and gym mats with. Now I present to you the list of people who either annoy me or just straight piss me off at the gym:

1. Barbie Bitches- You know the type. Hair done and make-up perfect. Lots of spandex not near enough IQ. Climbing up the never ending set of steps on the stair climber all while reading the latest Cosmo. Never breaks a sweat and is always dressed in the cutest work-out clothes. Needs to be banished from the gym stat before I shove her color-coordinated iPod down her throat just for shits and giggles. Waiting to find a husband so she can push out a couple of babies, get lazy, and then blame her weight gain on her thyroid.


2. Overly sweaty people who don't wipe down machines when they're done with it - Seriously? Stop being fucking gross and carry a towel with you. It's not that difficult. You think I want your sweat on me? Hell to the no. Clean up after yourself and wear more deodorant. You smell like liver and feet.


3. People who don't give a shit - Usually a woman. Usually found on a treadmill going as slow as humanly possible. Not there to get into shape but only because her friend doesn't want to come to the gym alone. Seen never sweating and can't even be bothered to appear like she's serious about fitness when she's wearing capris and mass amounts of jewelry. Stays on treadmill even when serious runners are waiting to get on and actually want to accomplish something. Needs to either man up and run or stay the fuck home.


4. People who talk on their cellphones the entire time they're working out - Knock that fucking shit off, for real. No one wants to hear your conversation and no one cares. You are not cool and you are not important. Seriously, shut up.


5. Meatheads - Oh yea, the broly mofos who grunt as loud as humanly possible when working those delts. Then because they are so manly and buff instead of laying the huge ass weights down when they're finished they throw them on the ground and scare the shit out of me. You are a jacked, steroid taking, jerk-off with small balls and back-acne. You aren't attractive and you've got less body hair than me with a better fake tan. Keep pumping those weights, Arnold...one day you just might get enough muscles to make up for the fact that you have a small weiner and have never been able to please a woman.


*Update*
Please see the comment section for Thomas' perspective. It brings the major lulz.

Phoenix, Tucson, And My Liver Are Now On Notice

SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Cinco De Drinko Aught Nine, mofos. Oh yes, it's on.

I Can Has Pink Dolphin?

Mass and epic amounts of want for this creature...




From 'The Sun'

THIS is a flipping stunning picture of the worlds only PINK Bottlenose
dolphin.

The dolphin, which is an albino, is the odd one out within
its pod and after being spotted last year has been wowing visitors at a lake
in Louisiana, US.

The mesmerising mammal was photographed making a
splash by local charter boatman Captain Erik Rue, 42.

Cpt Rue has been studying the dolphin since it first surfaced in Lake
Calcasieu, an inland saltwater estuary, north of the Gulf of Mexico.

He said: I just happened to see a little pod of dolphins, and I noticed
one that was a little lighter.

It was absolutely stunningly pink.

WANTWANTWANTWANTWANT

Srsly. Would steal and put in my bathtub.

Let The Freaking Out Commence!

Brace yourself...North Texas is under a WEATHER ALERT.

Dun dun dunnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn

Seriously, people. It's wet outside, and yes it is cold, but must we all act like idiots? I wish I were kidding, I really do. There are people online right now who are UP IN ARMS because they had to go to work today. People who have nothing better to do than sit in a chat room and talk to other people about when the roads might start to ice.

Feel free to join in on the chat if you're in the DFW area and actually give a shit. But a word of warning, don't write "OMG Y'ALL. IT'S WET AND COLD OUTSIDE! I THINK WE MIGHT DIE." They frown upon that.

NBHHY* UPDATED!

Less than 12 hours until my birthday.

Had a damn good lunch courtesy of my boss. Received giftcard and card that made me chuckle because it all referred to us as "inmates".

Outlook for the rest of the evening: Positive. Involves chicken and chocolate pudding. Don't ask.



*Nothing Bad Has Happened Yet

*UPDATED*

Here's the birfday loot so far!



Sweet and funny birfday cards from my co-workers, my wonderful Gramma, and my homegirl Princess!!! As well as some sweet smellin' lotions and soaps (I think she's trying to tell me something) and pink Crocs from Thomas!!! PINK! CROCS! With butterfly button thingies on them!! OMG! I used to hate/loathe Crocs with a passion but after wearing Thomas' on occasion and realizing how gawdawful comfortable they are, I wanted a pair for myself and now I gots them!! Lovelovelovelovelovelove!

Another Reason To Heart Teh Intarwebz

Remember this photo from a recent trip to a gun show here in Dallas?




Yea, it made it on to The "Blog" of "Unnecessary" Quotation Marks!

I think my e-fame status just got bumped up a notch or two. lulz

Christmas Spirit? Yea, I Got Your Christmas Spirit Right Here.

I promised my Grandmother I would be "home" for Christmas this year. Since I would be single and without in-laws this year (Thank the Lord in Heaven for that too) I told her I would be there with jingle-jingle-bells on. If it was possible for me to beat myself up for something telling them I would be there would be a good reason for a self ass whooping. Not to mention a string of other bad ideas I've had in the past 27 years.

For the past few years I had a perfectly good agreement with my family. You don't get me anything and I won't get you anything. See how that works? IT'S WIN/WIN FOR EVERYONE! That sooooo wasn't going to happen this year and for the past few weeks I've been wracking my brain thinking up gifts for these people. These people who already have everything they could possibly want. These people who make it their goal in life to be difficult to buy for. These people who when asked what they would like for Christmas they respond with, "Oh honey, you don't have to get us anything!". Yea effing right, Grandma. Just pony up the scoop on what you want and I'll buy it! Do I get that though? Hell to the nizzo. So because she refuses to give me any good ideas for herself she'll just have to be happy with the fact that I showed up on Christmas and that I care about her cat's digestive system.

A Little Bit Of This And A Little Bit Of That

Today is December 5th and I am not yet divorced. Yup, you read that right. I was supposed to be officially divorced by December 1st. Obviously, that didn't happen.

Earlier this week I received a phone call from my soon-to-be-ex-husband informing me that, due to scheduling conflicts and work issues, he would be unable to make the 20 minute drive to the courthouse in order for a judge to finally release me from my marital bond to an absolute moron. I asked him how long was I going to have to wait. He told me not until the beginning of the new year.

Yea...that didn't go over well.

One of my mottos has always been, "If you want something done right you better do it yourself". I should've stuck with that way of thinking. See, I figured that because he was the one who initiated the separation that he would be the one who would be itching to get this divorced final. That come hell or high water he would want to be rid of me for good. Apparently, I was wrong. I nagged him til I was blue in the face about starting the proceedings. I stayed on him about getting the paperwork turned in at the appropriate times and I was the one who informed him that he needed to stand before a judge in order to finalize the divorce. I want to be D-O-N-E done done fucking done with this marriage, like right now.

Insert stomping of feet, temper tantrum thrown, and bottom lip sticking out.


To my soon-to-be-ex-husband,

A not so happy birthday to you, asshat. May your hair continue to fall out and you never lose that gut you inherited from your father. May you spawn a dozen children who are all as condescending and lazy as you, and as hideous as the creature that you mated with.

All the best,
Your soon-to-be-(thank God Almighty) ex-wife

P.S. I faked. A lot.

------------------------------------------------
Ahem and moving on...

Tonight is Thomas' company Christmas party. Food, cash bar, and the two of us looking dayum good should make for a mighty fine time. Pictures will be taken, of course. I would normally ask that you pray that I don't get tore up and make an ass of myself but with a cash bar that is soooo not going to happen.

------------------------------------------------

Last, but certainly not least, while watching TV last night Tank The Awesome Chihuahua jumped on Thomas' lap and as he was climbing over him to get to me he farted directly in Thomas' face. Seriously. Tank was all *jump, hop, POOT, jump* and the look on Thomas' face was absolutely priceless. I laughed so hard that I almost pissed myself.

I'm blogging about this for three reasons:

1. It's funny to think about a 4lb Chihuahua blowing ass.
2. Thomas should get used to me using him for humorous blogging material.
3. I like to think Tank did it out of pure revenge for all of the times the poor innocent creature has been sound asleep laying between both of us and has awoken to a wall of stink thanks to Thomas' assplosions. REVENGE WILL BE HIS DAMMIT!

Of Course I Took Pictures

Seriously, it's been just crazy, y'all. Since the merger and creation of R&S, Inc. we have been non-stop.

We now have three, count 'em 1-2-3, puppeh dogs in the apartment. Small, medium, and large (with a side of dumb). Walking all three at the same time all while maintaining peace and sanity have proved to be challenging but we are making improvements every day. Delighla has found a buddy in Bailey and I have found a snuggle buddy in Tank. Thomas is none-too-pleased that his dog has jumped ship and is now all about the Mo though. But can you blame the poor dog? I certainly cannot for I know how irresistable I can be. And lookit how cute he is...



Other than the regular adjustments that come along with living with someone new life is spectacular. Oh sure there was that time when he took complete control over the TV and stopped my recording of a 'Will & Grace' re-run on the DVR without asking me and then I had to say, "Uh dude? WTF?". He said, "Oh, haven't you seen all these?" and then I said, "Nope, and next time at least ask me if it's okay to stop the recording" and then he says, "Okay". Then there was the time when I bought a gun and he took it apart within 30 seconds of it being out of the packaging and I SWEAR I didn't think he was going to get it back together again and I was watching him fiddle with it, all scared because HELLO it was my gun and now it's all broken and I'm sad and when he finally got it back together again he asked me if I had been nervous about him not being able to fix it and I said, "Yes, only because I don't think you want to take that back to the dealer I bought it from and say, 'Sir, can you fix this? I broke my girlfriend's PINK girly gun'". Needless to say he didn't find that visual as amusing as I did. But you know what? I am one happy mofo. He brings me lillies that smell so good that they'll make your panties drop and he makes me delicious food and he rubs my feet and he puts his dirty clothes in the hamper. I'll take all that over a deleted tv show any day of the week.

Wait...what? Oh that's right, I forgot to mention...

I bought the gun! The pink one! And I don't care if the guy who sold it to me gave me shit it still goes BANG.

Look!



Photos to come of me actually shooting this beauty. It shall be glorious.

Now, the gun show. Wow. Just wow. I thought the last one Thomas and I went to was interesting. LOLOLOLOLOL no. Words cannot do this event justice, only photos...


Don't worry, I've already submitted this to The "Blog" of "Unnecessary" Quotation Marks.


Now this guy? Whoa. We weren't sure if we should salute him or laugh at him. We chose laughing at him after we heard him speak with an Austrailian accent.

I would've taken more photos but I had to go all secret squirrel just to get those two. Apparently they frown on photos being taken of weapons or some bullcrap like that. I'm sure it's because of the terrorists. They're always ruining my fun.

Do Want

While walking through a local gun show this weekend I see this...




Me: OMG! It's a pink gun! A small! Pink! Gun! Want want want want want. It's so cute!

Him: ::eyeroll:: WTF pink gun? It's a gun! It's not supposed to be cute!

Me: But it is cute and it's pink! I wonder if the magazine comes in pink too.

Him: ::head explodes::



After walking around the show for a while we came back to this same gun. I had a 10 minute battle with myself over to buy it or not. I didn't buy it. I told him that we had to leave immediately or else I would. I pouted for the next 20 minutes because I denied myself. I'm such a damn baby.