Crissy’s Not Funny Today So You’re Getting Bitchy Instead & Loving It

Mostly because she’s just had another fight with Mister over getting the motherfucking trash out on time so Crissy doesn’t have to put her boots on and trudge through the ice dragging all the bins out because they’re too heavy to carry unless she wants to bust a uterus and have Taco fall right out in the driveway.

We do this every Thursday morning like a little lover’s ritual.

It’s just the sweetest thing.

He’s got 10 minutes to get his ass out there or Crissy will punch him in the face and then go do it herself thereby making him look like a total shit ass in front of the whole neighborhood. A shit ass and a little pussy boy whose wife beats him.

Anyfuck, this post isn’t about trash cans and shit ass husbands. It’s about “eating healthy” and how much it pisses Crissy off. And Crissy isn’t talking about the actual act of eating healthy foods. She rather enjoys eating healthy foods and she always has. That’s why her ass is marvelous and yours isn’t. Unless you eat healthy foods too in which case your ass is marvelous as well.

Good for you!

You probably also have an excessive flatulence problem coming from your marvelous ass because that’s what healthy foods do for you.

But that’s okay.

Unless you’ve been sharting.

If you shart you’ve got bigger problems than excessive broccoli consumption and you should see a doctor. Also you may want to cut back on the anal fisting.  Crissy doesn’t want to ruin your party but she’s just saying it may be time to consider what you’re putting up there and what it’s doing for you long term.

What pisses Crissy off about the phrase “eating healthy” is that it doesn’t actually make any sense. It’s like “eating retarded” or “eating asshole.” It’s not something you can really do (okay, well maybe the second one is something you can do but you know what Crissy is saying so shut it).

Eating healthy foods is fine.

Crissy will also accept “eating healthfully” or “eating healthily.”

But this “eating healthy” bullshit has got to stop and it needs to start with the media because they’re the ones who started it and they know better Queefs.

It makes Crissy violent.




Okay Mister is coming down the stairs and putting his boots on. Crissy doesn’t have to go out there and drop a Taco in the driveway just to embarrass him.

Thank christ.

It’s fucking cold and poor Taco would certainly freeze to the ground upon contact. It would be a mess.

Cum To My Windows

Aaaannndddd we’re still talking about windows Queefs.

Oh for Christ sake is that all Crissy can think about?


Not at all.

Crissy thinks about lots of things like when will her nipples become so hard from cold that they finally just drop off her body and scratch her floors and whether or not there will ever be a Brady Bunch reunion and if so will Greg finally finger bang Marsha because you know he wants to or if she should make spicy teriaki salmon for dinner.

Crissy’ s life is very exciting you know and it’s loaded with Very Important Things to Think About.

So yesterday was the day when the RI Housing Lead Safety people put out a notice to all qualified contractors to come to the Crissy’s house to take a look at their windows and make a bid to do the job.

The turn out was huge as if they promised there would be free beer and hot horny virgins for everyone and it felt to Crissy exactly like an episode of This Old House or Extreme Home Makeover as the whole street was lined with work vehicles and burly type men in various shades of plaid and the neighbors were coming out of their houses to look because there were really that many dirty Mexicans contractors at Crissy’s house.

And can you believe that not one of them looked like this?



What a disappointment.

Crissy wore her best maternity pants for this.

And Crissy always thought that construction dudes were hot and yummy and strong and young and hot and hot and GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF CRISSY but they’re not, apparently.

This makes Crissy sad as yet another one of the truths she holds dear has been shattered like, well, glass.

Also Crissy is sad because there are that many construction guys out there that are desperate for work and so wanted to try to fix Crissy’s house for her.

And of course there was the one assmonkey who showed up late, didn’t have a pen, admitted he had no experience with historic homes and had never heard of the particular sort of very special and tricky to install replacement windows deemed acceptable by the Historical Society Twatburgers and he didn’t even know or understand the window terminology. And so the RI Housing Lead Safety Dudes took him outside because he was also very argumentative with them and gave him a stern lecture about wasting Crissy’s time and she was hoping they’d rough him up a bit but they didn’t.

But that was sweet of them just the same.

It wouldn’t have happened if Mister had been home but since Crissy was alone with Girlfriend the Lead Safety Dudes acted very chivalrously on her behalf.

So Crissy let them put their penises in her bum, but only for a second.

Queefs, Duggars. Duggars, Queefs.

Crissy was watching the tee-vee again the other day and she should just limit herself to This Old House and America’s Test Kitchen really because most of the other stuff she sees on tv gets her fired up for one reason or another.

Take, for example, the Duggars.

Here they are for you Queefs who aren’t familiar:

That’s Jim Bob and Michelle Duggar and their 18 kids.



And Crissy was going to make some sort of crude joke about how making Sexy Time with Michelle must be like throwing a hot dog down a hallway but then when she was looking for a picture of the family she found this which is way, way funnier:

And the thing that bugs Crissy is that if somebody had 18 cats or hamsters or goldfish or something like that animal control people would be at the door calling them lunatic or hoarder or whatever but people with 18 kids get a huge, huge awesome house and their own TV show all of which they consider to be blessings from God of course and it’s not because people like to ogle circus freaks with clown car vaginas.


The cat horders of the world should unite and write a letter to Jesus or something because that’s bullshit. Crissy’s got his email if any of you Cat Hoarding Queefs want it. She just has to warn you that he might try to sell you a penis enlarger first.

Crissy thinks there’s something seriously wrong with people who have 18 kids and still want for more. Crissy for one is all finished after Taco comes out and plans to beg the doctor to just rip the whole uterus right out or board it up and put a condemned sign on it or something.

And when you watch the show, they seem like nice people and the kids are all beautiful and seem well behaved and you figure maybe these people are just a little eccentric and that’s cool until a little bit of The Crazy sneaks out and then you’re all like “OH! There it is! I knew I’d find it!”

The episode Crissy is talking about is the one when they were expecting number 18 and they were out shopping at the store for some baby stuff because after 18 babies your shit gets pretty worn out and you need more and one of the little boys found a musical toy and started dancing to it.



He was immediately dragged away from it by his older sisters and his father because THERE’S NO DANCING ALLOWED! Jim Bob had to explain to the folks at home that they have to be very careful of the kind of music they allow in their home because “it can get the best of ya.”

We wouldn’t want that now would we Jim Bob?

Children dancing is a horror! BUT they all take violin lessons.


They can play the music, but they’re not allowed to enjoy it.

That makes about as much sense as having 18 kids.

And then the time comes for Jim Bob and Michelle to go to birthing class because apparently they’re rather slow learners and still need to be told where and how the baby is going to come out.

The teacher starts going on and on about “cervical softening” being one of God’s better ideas and for those of you Queefs who’ve never been to birthing class, cervical softening is when you get lots and lots of semen up in there because it has a chemical in it that makes the cervix softer and more flexible for birth.



Dancing is the devil but plenty of good old fashioned fucking for the sake of fucking and not making babies is A-Okay?

Crissy is confused.

And then, AND THEN!!! the day comes when the baby is born and everyone is looking at her and one of her older sisters is clearly in love with her new baby sister and she’s really a beautiful baby and Crissy thought it was so sweet of the sister to be so enamored with her and then she said “she’s fearfully and wonderfully made” and there Queefs was The Crazy again.

Who the hell looks at a baby and thinks of the word fearful except for a bunch of Jesus freaks?

The world outside of Crissy’s bedroom is a scary place Queefs.

Please don’t make her go out there again.

Crissy Loves Richard and She Doesn’t Care Who Knows It.

And somewhere right now Crissy’s friend Michele just peed her pants a little bit because that’s her husband’s name.

But Crissy doesn’t mean Michele’s Richard:


But the worshipping is rather nice.

And she doesn’t mean this Richard:

Although, you know.


Crissy means this one:

And she loves him in a way that isn’t even right or appropriate or anything.

Crissy wants to keep him as her pet poodle and she wants him to hold her when she cries and give her a pep talk when she needs one in that very special sparkly way that only Richard has.

And Crissy wants to know why Mister isn’t her little poodle.

She bedazzled all his wife beaters for him so WTF?

You Queefs have seen the way Richard comforts and loves people and cries with them and encourages them.


Tell Crissy you don’t need him too and Crissy will shout “liar, liar, pants on fire!” right at you because everybody needs cute little glittery fuzzy headed Richard.

And if you don’t there’s something wrong with you.

Most of all though Queefs, Crissy needs Richard in her kitchen every morning to make her a banana mango smoothie, tell her she’s pretty, smack her on the ass, and then lead her in an hour of Disco Sweat.

Doesn’t that sound wonderful?

If any of you Queefs can make that happen Crissy would be eternally grateful and may even bestow upon you the title of Royal Twidget Shaver because Crissy can’t see hers anymore.

Or maybe Richard would want to help her with that too…

Kitty Von Crapp

Big Pussy is trying to kill Crissy.

Here we are as a happy couple last April:


But now?

Not so much.

It all started about 5 or so months ago when Crissy started having to get up in the middle of the night to eat or else she’d throw up.

And it’s still going on.

Take last night, or early this morning to be accurate because we’re nothing around here if not accurate and totally factual, for example. Crissy woke up per usual at 2:15 am to go downstairs for her snack because god fucking forbid she remembers to get a snack to keep next to her bed.

That would make sense and Crissy just doesn’t play like that.

So Crissy has to get out of bed and disturb Big Pussy who sleeps on her face. She has tried to extricate herself without waking him, but it is impossible Queefs.

It cannot be done.

And that is very bad because if Big Pussy doesn’t get a full 23.5 hours of sleep per day, he’s a cranky pants.

He’s so cranky, in fact, that he has decided to kill Crissy.


Just look at him!

He’s half-crazed!!!

And his intentions are quite clear as he races her to the bottom of the stairs, turns around as fast as he can, and runs back up, aiming his body directly at Crissy in an attempt to make her fall either through the double windows on the middle landing or tumble down to the bottom of the stairs.

He knows Crissy is sleepy and a little clumsy and that she can see less and less of her feet let alone the stairs these days and so the likelihood of his eventual success is very, very high.

He’s diabolical!

But you know what Queefs?

Crissy isn’t gonna let some punk ass cat do her like this.

She’s going to keep right on getting her Raspberry-Graham Kashi bar and her glass of Rhody Fresh locally milked milk as if there wasn’t a thug waiting to kill her on the stairs.

In fact, Crissy says bring it gangsta.

And just so you know Crissy’s not, well, a pussy?

Here’s a little taste of what she’s capable of:


That’s right.

Crissy went there.

You sleep with a dog, Homeslice.

And now everyone knows.



Crissy is fully prepared to make Mister get up and get her Kashi bar.

Where The Crissys Make Beautiful Music Together

Is it just Crissy or does that expression give you the heebies?

We should do a post on colloquialisms for fucking.

Anyway, when you’re knocked up you go through this thing where you have to re-do everything in your house and you also have to bake. Or maybe that’s just Crissy because she’s only been pregnant in the winter and there’s nothing better to do but smack her house up and eat crap.

And it’s been snowy and cold around here so needless to say Crissy’s been a busy little beaver and she started to tear up the walls in Taco’s room:



It’s sort of a small room and no doubt Taco will grow up to be a serial killer or something because of it but whatever. The world needs them too. The Crissy’s didn’t really plan on needing a third bedroom when they bought their house…


But then Crissy got sick of doing that and she’s always wanted her bedroom to be all serenity and peace instead of Jerry Springer Show porn with lots of dirty laundry, pet feces, empty Cheetos bags and beer bottles in the bed and so she made Mister help her re-arrange their room in exchange for some new bedroom sucky fucky.

And Crissy is really happy to report that she only spent $100 on some new 1,000 thread count sheets because she is soooo worth it and everything else she already had around the house and most of it came from Ikea, the most wonderful place in the world.

Here is a picture of Crissy’s room during the transition but she only thought of taking a picture after she already started moving furnitures and things around so it’s not a before picture per se:


The bed was in front of the windows and it didn’t have the posts in. And the furnitures were in totally different places too.

Here is an after picture:


Isn’t it wonderful and sooooothing?

And so very sexxxxy?

But before you go getting all jealous of Crissy’s new bedroom, just know that about .5 seconds after the room was finished the Springer Show moved right back in and there were piles of laundry and toys alloverthefuckingplace again just like nothing ever happened. Girlfriend’s toys and Alice’s toys, not Crissy and Mister’s.

Is that all you guys ever think about?


But doesn’t the room look wonderful and not very Ikeaish at all. Crissy thinks she did a good job making the Dutts coordinate with the bed frame and the Tanja Brodeur fit the Mysa perfectly. And look at that wonderful Vitten! And Crissy forgot she had a Bryne just sitting in her closet collecting dust and so she pulled that bad boy out and used it!

But Mister thinks the Bryne looks too girly.

What do you think, Queefs?

And as she was decorating Crissy was thinking about how she also treated herself to two new toilet brushes (oh the extravagant life Crissy does lead!) and seeing as Ikea names all their stuff after towns and shit she wonders how the people who live in Viren feel about having a toilet brush named after them.

Probably pretty shitty.

Bwahahahahahahaha!!!! Get it? Shitty? Toilet brush?

Crissy rocks.

The only thing missing from the room are some purple hyacinths because they’re Crissy’s absolute favorite and she thinks it would be really lovely to wake up and smell the hyacinths instead of Balls and Pot.

Spousal Humiliation is Fun!

Wasn’t yesterday fun Queefs?

Turns out that trying to humiliate your spouse is like the best thing ever!

And the consequences are even better! Crissy’s bum is all warm and hurty today. She’s not gonna shit right for a week! What? Who said that? That’s so inappropriate!

Truth be told though Queefs, that whole thing could have been much, much, nastier because if you didn’t notice already, the Crissys are picture people and if you don’t think Mister’s camera has come into the boudoir once or twice you are clearly smoking crack.

And speaking of smoking crack, Crissy is going slumming today at Saver’s to drop off some donations and also to buy some big kid puzzles for Girlfriend because all of a sudden she’s a genius at building them and it keeps her quiet for about a half an hour and that, dear Queefs, is better than Benedryl anything because it means that Crissy doesn’t have to yell “GET OFF THE DOG!!!!LEAVE! HER! ALONE!” a hundred times per second.

And after that we’ll go to the grocery store to buy some Ezekiel bread. Has anyone else noticed that if you don’t put that shit in the freezer it gets all green and furry in like a day? WTF?

So hopefully Girlfriend will be in a good mood and Crissy will have a good day and she won’t want to kill herself by the time Mister gets home.

Thank Jesus Crissy has just the one kid–




Crissy Will Pay Dearly For This


The Gay Years



So yesterday Crissy talked about an ex-bf and his hotness and his bratwurst and today she calls her husband gay. And Crissy loves the gays but it’s not exactly a quality she’s looking for in a husband. But on second thought, Crissy thinks that maybe a gay husband wouldn’t wake her up at 5 am with a knock on her back door and that would be cool.

But judging by the way Mister sexually harasses The Lioness and The Lovely Miss Kiala and also Crissy, Crissy thinks we can all agree that Mister is decidedly not. gay. but judging by these pictures of him from a few years back?

He’s as gay as the day is long.

Gayer even than Jazz Hands.

With bad fashion sense.

And this was taken when he was fresh out of the United States Naval Academy where there were 1,000 people in his class and only 100 of them were big lezzies girls. You do the math on that one Queefs.

And uh, Seaman Gilbert?

Crissy is just saying.

And Crissy isn’t a stupid woman Queefs.

There will be retaliation for this.

Somewhere, sometime, but it will come.

And it will be swift and decisive because that’s how Mister rolls.

Wait for it…