Welcome Intertrons!
(I’m trying to think of a good name for you guys. Forgive me while I try a few things out.)
Anyhoot, Welcome to Crissy Wants Week!™
We haven’t done a theme week in ages and it’s high time we get back in business around here. I want no more pussying around with random crap. We’re going to beat shit to death from now on.
Or at least for this week we will.
Crissy wants so many things, you guys.
So. Many. Things.
And today I would like to tell you about how Crissy wants Mister to stop embarrassing her in front of her friends because he’s always doing it and it drives her nuts.
For example, this weekend we were having a lovely time with the neighbors and having a few drinkies and ridiculing and laughing at our children enjoying watching our children play together when Mister comes running into the room with a packet of Gas-X and excitedly exclaims “Crissy! Look! I found more of your Gas-X! I knew you couldn’t have gone through that much of it already!”
Now you Intertubbies know that Crissy’s life is pretty much an open book, but seriously?
Do people need to know that Crissy gets The Gas sometimes?
Not The Farting, but The Gas.
Crissy is far too much the delicate flower to have The Farting.
It’s her fiber cereal that does it and by the end of the day it combines with her healthy vegetarian and fruititarian diet and it makes her tummy a little, ahem, ENORMOUS and she feels like she’s carrying a baby beluga in her belly and so she needs a little help to feel better.
But she doesn’t need Mister telling everyone about it.
He might as well have come running into the room with a box of this:
or a box of this
or something.
(Note to the Cybernets: Crissy has neither The Crotch Rot nor The Hemorrhoids. These products are merely examples of the kinds of things Mister might use to humiliate her in front of her friends.)
And while we’re at it, I would also like to request that Mister stop telling people things like, “Crissy isn’t feeling good today. She’s on her period.” or “Crissy can’t come to the phone right now, she’s taking a shadooie.” I just think the QOFE’s proper functions should be shared on a need to know basis only.
So that is my want for today and if Mister doesn’t lock it up, I’m going to be forced to tell the QUEEFS (OMFG!! I’m totally calling you guys QUEEFS from now on!) about how he likes to keep light bulbs and cans of soda and things up his bum.
Similar Posts:
- Wii Fight
- A curious case of mistaken identity
- It’s like this and like that and like this and uh…I need to become black by Thursday
- The Queefs maybe win a prize?
- Ask Girlfriend 2.0
Shadooie – that’s frickin’ hysterical. But… I’m an idiot – so what is QUEEFS?
@Lynne: It’s a nickname for you Internets. I’m your QOFE and you’re my QUEEFS. Get it?
Lynne–don’t let crissy fool you…here’s the real definition:
http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=queef
That’s. Not. Nice. Crissy.
But hooray! You learned the TM thingy!
Okay–that link was stupid.
Wikipedia says…Vaginal flatulence (flatus vaginalis in Latin) is an emission or expulsion of air from the vagina that may occur during or after sexual intercourse or (less often) during other sexual acts, stretching or exercise. The sound is somewhat comparable to flatulence from the anus but does not involve waste gases and thus often has no specific odor associated.
That’s a queef.
If he embarrassed you, you should just embarrass him 10-fold.
Wait… that could spiral into something very bad.
I especially like that it has a latin name.
And we thought that flatus penalis is why men need viagra.
I’m with Maxie. Please begin a embarrassment competition of epic propotions. We need something to fill the Olympic void. Please do so in speedos. Kthnxbai.
i used to call my friends queefs. i think i shall start that again now.
Damn it, Rachel beat me to the queef punch line. I had vaginal flatulence all keyed up and ready to post a link……
that’s what I get for not getting up early enough to read Crissy before work.
Rach- It may not be nice, but it’s funny. I’m pretty sure Lynne knew what a queef was, I don’t think she got why I was calling people queefs. I went back and made it more clear in the post. But thanks for the explanation anyway!
Maxie- OMG! You have NO idea…
Rach- Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!!!!
Ben- That could be funny but I don’t think I’d ever be able to show my face again in public. Mister is a ruthless man when he wants to be.
Alexa- We’ll start a Queef gang! Watch out Gay Mafia, the Queefs are moving into the hood!
Shelly- Wait. What? You don’t read Crissy the moment you open your eyes? What is wrong with you woman???
Oh thank god you settled on QUEEFS. Intertubbies made me feel fat.
who are you kidding? You cant embarrass Mister.. he is anti-embarrasable…
Awesome. Just learned a new word today. Ok if I use QUEEFS on my co-workers?
that’s my girl: bringing vocabulary to the masses one word at a time! (i’m so proud…)
also, i tend to think aznman is on the right track: in a game of “embarrassment chicken” between me and crissy it’s pretty much in the bag.
Oh, it’s on now! Definitely time to return the favor, methinks. When the going gets tough, the tough get catty. Go get him.
What I want is a picture of the Mister with a can of pringles up his…well…his poop shoot.
Or maybe not.
Maybe just an erotic story about it.
It feels too early to be writing about pringles cans and poop shoots.
WHAT TIME IS IT?
Essentially- And Queefs makes you feel…sexy?
Aznman- HE SO IS!!! You and I are better matched than he and I. He is totally immune to embarassment.
Marie- Nooooooo.
Neth- You would totally win. I’m not even going to attempt it.
Phil- I will lose. I have find another way. Withold sex maybe? See who winds up humping the dining room chairs first?
Melissa- One erotic story about salty snacks and anals coming up!
Please don’t call me a queef.
Oh yes, the hubbies like to embarrass their queens. I try to get him back with horrible stories, but my problem is that 1) he doesn’t embarrass easily and 2) he has WAY more stories about me then I have about him.
Just be glad he did not come out in your superhero costume.
I would have.
Maybe you should employ the uh, “Tootsie Roll Tactics” on Mister. Then see who needs the Gas-X.
I like Intertrons better than Internettians and Intertubbies.
and although I appreciate the word queef, reading it makes me sick to my stomach…
For reasons that nobody should know about.
Don’t you hate that men are so much more anti-embarassable? How is that? Why do they get that kind of special treatment?
So, let me get this straight…You don’t have the Massingill with the happy woman on the front. You don’t have the Preparation-H in the baby diarrhea yello box. But you do have the strange Crayola flesh-colored strap-on cock?
I’m just taking inventory so I know what to bring when I come visit you.
OMG…Dane has done the same thing to me with the Gas X.
Word for word.
On a totally unrelated note, remind me to tell you about my reasons for doing yoga at home rather than in a group setting.
I was a queef long before today.
I side with your pimp here. Why would Gas-X embarrass you? You could just tell your guests that sometimes you get the queefs real bad, and Gas-X is good for those, too.
You shouldn’t be embarrassed about your The Crotch Rot or The Hemorrhoids, either. It’s okay, Crissy. If I can tell people on the elevator that sometimes I make enough dick cheese for hors d’ourves, you can tell your guests about The Gas and The Farting.
Your pimp likes to stick lightbulbs up his ass, too? We have so much in common! You should see me when I’m decorated for Christmas!
Crotch Rot?!
BWWWAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
I’ll just say this. Fuck fiber. Believe me, I know. It’s a whole fiber industry, Gas-X industry conspiracy.
That is actually Queen Latifah’s nickname. So you can call me Queen Latifah.
Wait, maybe no.
Perfect.
The Google Ad on your page currently says “Find Gay Men in Your City” … it’s like it was MADE for you or something!
And please note that talking about your bodily functions is a sign of great confidence and considerable means.
Crissy, I am trying very hard to shake the image of Mister telling your guests “You know… sometimes Crissy is not so fresh” and you positively dying of embarrassment. The Gas-X thing was pretty awful, though.
And I would like to speak up against men that think that they get to tell ANYONE that their wife/girlfriend/S.O/ fuckbuddy/POSSLQ has her period. Is that really something that needs to be public knowledge?
You should have used the ignorance tactic by asking him if he had you confused with his other wife and then drink his drink when he isn’t looking.
Also, I’m going to start telling people I’m a Queef.
today is not the day for Evil to comment on the doing’s of “Men” they are serious asshats. I am really having a hard time right now even loving my own asshat.
No endearing quality will save them now, no.
Men are pigs. Love them as we do, they are all the same. PIGS~
would we tell the world of their hershey squirts NO!
But give them the opportunity they will inevitably tell the world of our most humiliating experiences!
FIGH! I SAY! They should all be shipped to an island where they can only annoy eachother!
Here is the bottom line (as I see it) ….. what Crissy wants, Crissy should get!!! So….Ken, for the love of God and all that is sane….please stop embarrassing her so we can get on to more important issues….like Vodka and vegetarian cookie recipes and flesh colored strap-ons! OK…not necessarily in that order!!!
You know, I have that same problem with the Gas. Except, I DO fart all day long and it is just ridiculous. You’d think my body would be used to a vegetarian diet after more than a year, but apparently my body hates fiber.
Please share the Gas X, Crissy.
I have many troubles with my browser Voyager on your site. The monkeys are still in the page
.