Oy.

Crissy is really sorry she didn’t comment on your blogs yesterday but she was not at work which is the only place where she is able to read blogs because Girlfriend is very high maintenance. And Crissy was not at work because Girlfriend was terribly, terribly sick.

Yesterday was a real pain in the ass kind of day for your poor, poor wretched Crissy and her poor, poor wretched baby girl who came down with the Monkey Plague and had to be rushed to the doctor because she was wheezing so hard her little chest and belly were heaving from trying to get some air.

And she was coughing so hard she threw up on Crissy’s rug and we had to throw it away.

And the doctor said she was glad that Crissy brought her in because Girlfriend needed a treatment of Albuterol immediately and then would need an inhaler to bring home because The Bronchitis had given her The Asthma or something like that. And so the nurse came in with the drugs and a mask that was spewing cool mist from it and was all “put this over Girlfreind’s nose and mouth” and Girlfriend was all “Oh, Heeelll no.” And she fought and kicked and cried until she couldn’t fight any more and let Crissy put the mask on her but only if the doctor and nurse would go away.

The whole thing was the most terrible ordeal but when it was all over, Girlfriend was able to breathe again for the time being and she felt much better.

And she looked at her doctor and said,

are you ready?

Wait for it…

“That was friggin’ absurd!”

Crissy is a proud mommy today, Queefs.

At least she didn’t say “fuck.”

A few days ago Crissy got a friend request on Facebook. This happens almost every day because, well, Crissy is the QOFE and everyone loves her and wants to be close to her. Sometimes she does not accept the friend request because she thinks it’s rude for people to just add her as a friend without so much as sending her a message first. Come on now people! Even dogs sniff each other’s asses before they make friends.

Crissy is not suggesting we do that but she feels very strongly that at least a “how do you do” is in order.

Seriously.

And sometimes Crissy sends them a message inquiring as to how they found her because Crissy insists on some sort of contact with each and every one of her Facebook Queefs.

Crissy does not want random freaks in the ranks of her “friends.” Crissy is enough of a random freak all by herself thank you very much.

Sometimes Crissy has accepted people just for the hell of it even though she sort of knows they’re of the unsavory sort and they turned out to be just as she suspected because she’s smart and also slightly psychic like that and so she has been forced to block them.

One time this random freak tried to tell her he was in Western Civ class at Providence College and Crissy was not having it because Western Civ classes had like 100 people in them and the only person Crissy spoke with was a very sweet little lesbian named Regan. Not some dude named P.T. Sullivan. And so when her good buddy P.T. tried to ask her what she’s been up to she said:

“Oh, you know the usual. Got out of rehab, got over my gambling problem and I’m just trying to get my life back on track. I get to see my kids this Friday!”

And he never wrote back.

How odd.

But this time Crissy got a very sweet request from Hafiz Ayaz Ali Qureshi and his request was very sweet and Crissy tried to cut and paste it here for you but she can’t find it now but it was sweet so she accepted his request and from that moment to right now and maybe even as we speak he has been showering her with “expensive gifts” and “kiss kiss hottest crush” and “wall posters” and “perfume” and Crissy has no idea what these things are and she doesn’t have time to find out so maybe if one of you Facebook savvy Queefs know you can fill her in. Please. He also sends Crissy many greeting cards wishing her a “Happy Eid Day.” Like two or three per day.

Crissy does not know what the hell Eid day is so she looked it up and apparently it is some sort of Ramadan thing. Crissy hopes that he doesn’t expect her to stop eating or swearing.

That would totally blow chunks if Crissy couldn’t eat or say naughty words because that’s pretty much Crissy’s day.

Crissy is confused.

And Crissy is wondering if anyone else has this same problem.

And Crissy would like to say that she knows these pictures are recycled from another post so you don’t have to say it. She just didn’t think it was necessary to take more pictures if she already had them because Crissy is busy doing QOFE things that you Queefs cannot possibly understand unless you have a kid who is bothering the shit out of you right now, a husband, a job, some pets, a house to take care of, and you’re trying to read The Other Boleyn Girl. If you do understand Crissy’s QOFE things then you should call her and make a date to get bombalooed together because Crissy feels like she needs a par-tay.

Anyway, the problem is this:

img_1460c2_resize.jpg

img_1475c2_resize.jpg

IMG_1491_resize.JPG

It’s Mister’s favorite outfit, his signature look, if you will.

Shirt, no pants or underwear of any kind, paired with slippers, sneakers, or boots. Sometimes socks. Sometimes not socks if he’s feeling particularly sassy that day. Perhaps he could borrow Crissy’s Sockettes sometime. Or maybe the rainbow socks would be cute with this outfit.

And Crissy does not think this is a very good look and when she asks Mister to put some pants on for the love of all that is good and decent in this world what exactly makes him think this is acceptable attire she gets this:

“Wha? It’s too cold not to wear a shirt!”

Ah ha.

Mister does not understand that Crissy is not complaining about the shirt. Crissy is grateful that there is at least a shirt.

It is the lack of pants that is problematic because while Mister thinks his danglys are ABSOLUTELY WONDERFUL and should be shared with the world as often as possible, Crissy disagrees.

Crissy thinks that boy’s danglys are so. not. pretty.

Not that Crissy thinks her stuff is all that appealing either but Crissy at least has the good sense to cover that shit up.

But Mister just walks around with

It.

Out.

And it’s not just on occasion.

It’s ALWAYS.

He comes home, he takes off his shoes, he takes off his pants, puts his shoes back on (!), and voila!

He’s flippin’, he’s floppin’, he’s lovin’ every minute of it and Crissy is just trying not to let him get too close to the dinner she’s cooking because nobody wants to eat soup that may or may not have come into contact with Mister’s peenie.