Big Pussy is trying to kill Crissy.

Here we are as a happy couple last April:

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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.

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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:

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That’s right.

Crissy went there.

You sleep with a dog, Homeslice.

And now everyone knows.

Bring.

It.

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

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:

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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…

ahem.

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:

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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:

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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?

Seriously.

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.


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–

Oh.

Wait.

FUCK!!!

Mister

The Gay Years

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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…