So Crissy is sorry she kept Taco a secret from the Queefs but she thought it was probably for the best because when you have a blog that is supposed to be all floofy and just like love in your mouth like a fluffernutter sandwich and you make an announcement about your baby dying in your uterus it tends to be a downer.

It could still happen but it’s less likely now so Crissy thought it was safe to tell. Some of you already knew but most of you did not. The Inner Circle Queefs did a lovely job of keeping a secret for these past few months.

Also, Crissy has been sick to death with 24 hour nausea and blowing chunks and not being able to eat and thought she might be tempted to complain about being sick instead of bringing on the funny.

Ain’t no other lady can put it down like Crissy you know.

She brings the funny.

Anyhooter, Mister and Crissy and Girlfriend all went to the Taco Doctor on Tuesday and we heard Taco’s little heart and Crissy had to be violated as is customary for visits to the Taco Doctor and it’s just so much fun to do anyway never mind having it done while your three year old screams holy fucking murder because the doctor is touching mommy’s va-ji-na.

And if you don’t know already, Crissy’s Taco Doctor has the most lovely little hand knitted stirrup cozies that are just such a nice touch. He also has cinnamon scented plug ins because not everyone cleans the ol’ tuna wookie before going to see him.

It seems strange at first but you Queefs have to realize that the man needs something to make his job more pleasant or else you’ll see Mike Rowe in his office with a camera crew and a miner’s helmet.

Then on Tuesday night Crissy was just going to Bedfordshire when Mister said “I have a present for you.”

“Ooooo! Is it brownies?”

“Nope. It’s better.”

“What is it?”

“Close your eyes and put your hand out.”

And so Crissy did and she felt something cold and heavy and metallic in her hand which instantly made her think it must be jewelry and when she opened her eyes it was this:



Crissy was in such shock that she tossed the thing like a hot potato (or like a cold speculum) out of her hands and it went flying, clocking poor sleeping Alice in the head and sending her scurrying under the bed and Crissy scrambled to the head of the bed and clung to it for protection.

Crissy should have known better.

Mister is not so great in the gift giving department.


When you have a baby everything about your relationship with the person who knocked you up and volunteered to stick around married to changes.

For example, let’s say it’s 2 in the afternoon on a Sunday and there’s nothing to do but Make Sexy Time.

Can’t do it.

There’s this hanging around:


How freaking cute is Girlfriend’s school picture? Too cute, Queefs. Too cute.

Or let’s just say that it’s 2 am and you’ve had a dream about Sexy Time and you’d like to see how it ends and you need to finish the deal.


This is in your bed:


because it’s got a cold or there were Aliens in her closet (Crissy swears she does not talk to Girlfriend about Aliens. Girlfriend developed this fear all by herself. She knows they’re coming too. Obama, CALL US!!!) or some fucking thing that requires her to sleep in your bed with you.

And sometimes this does a little cock blocking:


And this is a big offender too:


She decides that Sexy Time is the best time to rest her head on mommy’s shoulder and insist on getting Lovey Time For Alice.

And Crissy is getting rawther frustrated because it’s not like Crissy is one for having the Sexy Time all the time but Jeezus does it suck when the more than willing handyman with the all the right tools is only two feet away from her and yet cannot fix her situation.

And it’s not like Crissy can rub one out either because again,



Crissy is getting ready to hump her co-workers (you’ve been warned Lynn-e) or her desk chair or the UPS delivery guy.


Crissy must find some way to solve her little problem before she does something unfortunate.

Today is Crissy’s blog’s birthday!!!

That’s right Queefs!

Crissyspage is 1 year old today!!!!!


And to celebrate the most important event of 2008, Crissy has made her blog some fat free brownies and then she’s going to take a nap after work because Crissy knows how to fucking party.


The umbrellas in the brownies look like boobies.



So here’s Crissy’s first post ever and it’s practically virgin territory because only Rachel, Crissy’s Mom and Mister have read it before.

Read Me Bitches!!!

Try not to have an orgasm in your work chair.

The clean up is just too much effort for a Monday.

Remember how the other day Crissy told you the story about how mall security caught her shoplifting a vibrator and a jar of peach flavored Body Butter from Spencer’s? And how Crissy took the stuff because she was too embarrassed to buy it and found it was far less humiliating to get caught by security, be strip searched by a same sex oriented security thing and then have them call her parents and tell them what they found in her purse?


Well Crissy had made shoplifting a bit of a hobby way back in the day and she never took anything big but just little stuff like thongs and lipsticks and one time an aquamarine and diamond ring and stuff like that. It’s very hard to be a suburban teenager with a new sports car and nothing better to do but go to the mall with only the pittance you get from babysitting for little Sarah and Timmy Martin on Fridays.

Crissy’s needs were far too great to live within the confines of the sad and sorry $20 per week she had in her pocketbook. And that $20 was supposed to cover gas money too!


And Crissy was very good at stealing stuff and in fact it wasn’t really her that was caught stealing at all but her stupid ham fisted friends. She got lumped in with the amatures. So. Not. Fair.

Crissy still does it sometimes because it’s important to keep your hand in.

Plus it’s really fun to stick it to the man.

Anywho, the reason why Crissy is telling you this is that she has noticed that Girlfriend is quite the little thief.

A couple of weeks ago while at the grocery store Girlfriend was begging Crissy to buy her a pack of gum. Crissy said “No. Mommy has plenty of gum in her purse.” And then Girlfriend goes “Awwwww…but Moooommmyyyy!” And then Crissy is all “Forget it.” And then Girlfriend got quiet and Crissy watched out of the corner of her eye whilst dicking around with the motherfuckingselfcheckoutmachine as Girlfriend took the gum and wrapped it in her shirt.

When Crissy was done scribbling Fuck off and Die on the credit card signature pad, a thing Crissy has taken to doing quite regularly now, she turned to Girlfriend and said “what’s in your shirt?” “Nothing mom” says Girlfriend as she nonchalantly studies the ceiling. “You’re busted lady. Put the gum back.” And she did.

And Crissy found a pair of barrettes in the bottom of the washer that she’s never seen before and when she asked Girlfriend about them she said they were a “gift from the teacher.” Uh huh. There’s also a Tony the Tiger pedometer that seems to have come from “nowhere” too.

Mister decided to have a bit of a sit down with her and asked her how she’d feel if someone took her stuff and do you know what she said Queefs?

“I’m not stupid. I keep my stuff with me daddy.”

We’re fucked.