Archive for March, 2009

Does Crissy look like a therapist to you Queefs?

Crissy doesn’t think so either but apparently she does because on Sunday at the Reference desk it was nothing but TMI and whining about personal stuff to Crissy.

Crissy knows that hairdressers and bartenders and psychologists get an earful of people’s personal shit every day and it’s actually part of the job but at the library?

WHAT?

There really isn’t even supposed to be any talking at the library which is a big reason why Crissy likes it there.

Maybe it’s because Crissy is pregnant and so she looks maternal which must mean she gives a rat’s ass about people’s problems but they have another thing coming because Crissy is a bitch.

But she clearly doesn’t look like one.

First it was this lady who was all “my son just got his girlfriend pregnant and they’re only 16 and they have no p lace to live and no car and I just wanted to know if there was some sort of federal grant I can apply for so that they can get a car (pause for breath) because they’re going to need one especially if he’s got to take her to the methodone center all the time now because you can’t shoot heroin when you’re pregnant and I just knew this would happen (breath) because his father’s been out of work for nine years now and he’s always running away from home and getting mixed up with prostitutes and drug addicts all the time but he’s a good boy (breath) and he promises he doesn’t do drugs and I also want to know if there’s a test I can give him like from the drug store or something to see if he’s been doing any because it’s not that I don’t trust him but I want to know. You know? (big, giant sigh.)”

Somebody shoot Crissy.

And then this other guy came to her to apologize for using his cell phone but he had to because his wife’s step-mother just had to be rushed to the hospital because her husband just died and she’s a paraplegic and has been for some 12 years now and she can’t take care of herself and she lives in New Jersey and now she’s got blood in her urine.

Crissy just looked at him and didn’t say anything because that would have only encouraged him.

AND THEN!!!

Crissy’s counterpart, Patty, who is a lovely Irish lady and a wonderful librarian, had this gross lady who was wearing a theme sweater and way, way too much lipstick come up to the desk to ask for help finding the manufacturer of her BRA.

And when Patty asked who makes the BRA the lady said she didn’t know and proceeded to come around behind the Reference desk and take her shirt off so Patty could read the label off her old dirty gray that used to be white BRA!!!

EEEEEWWWWWWWW!!!!!!

Patty handled it wonderfully of course but when the woman left she calmly got up, went into the office, poured herself some water from her thermos and in the most beautiful Irish accent said “what in the name of fuck and Jesus is wrong with people?”

WOTW: personality vomit

the act of overly elucidating details about one’s personal matters to others who neither know nor care to know those details, particularly if an insufficient level of intimacy and familiarity exists.

i really felt sorry for jennifer while she was working at the reference desk last weekend… she was covered in personality vomit after some grody looking perv came in and told her all about his first sexual experiences with his chickens.

You know what Queefs?

Being pregnant makes you retarded and klutzy.

And The Royal Queefs sayeth “Why whatever do you mean Crissy? You seem as lovely and smart as ever. We’re confused.”

And so Crissy will tell you.

• She put the milk in the cupboard and the cereal in the fridge.
• She makes at least three trips per day to rummage through the trash can because if she has two things in her hands, one being trash and one being something she wants to put away, she will inevitably throw away the put away thing and keep the trash.
• She does not know the difference between two, to, and too and your and you’re and she’s getting a little shaky on there their and they’re now two. (SEE?)
• ,Forget, about commas and their proper, usage.,
• Splelling mystakes leftt and ryght.
• There are approximately 15 glasses of water in various locations throughout the house because Crissy cannot remember where she puts them.
• Today is Tuesday, right?
  Crissy drove to Girlfriend’s school. Too bad Girlfriend wasn’t in the car. It was not a school day.
• Crissy goes into the store for a card for her brother’s birthday and comes out with fancy shampoo, a Winnie the Pooh toothbrush, Mr. Bubble, a digital thermometer, a diet lemon Snapple, a book of stamps, and NO BIRTHDAY CARD.
• She got into the shower, stood there, got out, dried off, lotioned, and remembered she didn’t wash herself.
• Carried dirty laundry back up two flights of stairs and started to fold it until she got to Mister’s sock balls and then “oooooohhhhh…fuck me.”

And she’s not just stupid she’s weak and clumsy too because when you’re pregnant your joints soften and spread out to make room for the growing crotchfruit and so you have less control of your body.

• All of a sudden Crissy cannot eat without her supper winding up on Mister’s her shirt as well as in a blast radius around her dish because sometimes she misses her mouth. St. Bernards are neater and more lady-like at dinner.
• She drops EVERYTHING.
• She knocks things over including Girlfriend when she bumps into her with her enormous belly because the thing just has a mind of it’s own. Girlfriend loves this. There she is just toodling along, minding her own business, when WHAP!!!! She’s taken a blow to the head and she’s down.
• Crissy walks straight into doors and walls with zero power to stop forward motion even though she knows a crash is imminent. Powerless!
• And she can do a work out that would make a grown man weep but she cannot walk up a flight of stairs without getting to the top dead.

It’s a darn good thing this is almost over because if Crissy gets any worse she’ll be too stupid to live and she won’t be able to breathe anymore and that would be a waste of a perfectly good Queen.

And people keep giving her food presents. On Monday her evil boss gave her a box of Girl Scout Peanut Butter Patties. And yesterday her friend Celina got her one half gallon of Birthday Cake ice cream because she knows Crissy likes that kind.

WHAT ARE PEOPLE TRYING TO DO TO CRISSY???

It’s not that Crissy doesn’t appreciate these sweet gestures, because who doesn’t love presents, but must it always be food?

And then Kendra, sweet, wonderful Kendra who is so very pretty

stopped by Crissy’s place and brought her this for a present:

and it’s about the best thing ever so thank you Kendra!!!

It is now in heavy competition with this

as Crissy’s most favoritest cup ever.

Crissy had a post all ready for today but this came up instead so here.

How do we like The Mom Sweater now?

Crissy is totally going to email these to Mister’s mom.

Maybe she’ll take the damn thing back now that she knows what’s being done with it.

So Sunday was sort of an eventful day because not only did Crissy have some interaction with her Vinny but when Crissy’s father-in-law came over to help Mister with the dry walling Taco’s room project he brought a bag with him and in that bag was this:

Yeah.

It’s particularly stunning with his plaster dusty camouflage pants and NERD tee shirt.

Mister’s mom sent it over for him. Not for Crissy. Not that Crissy wanted it, but it was expressly for The Golden Boy.  His mom wore it for a billionty years when she was a school librarian and then his sister wore it during her grunge phase and evidently it is now his turn to wear The Sweater That Just Won’t DIE.

And he wears it all the time now.

Even when he has no pants on which let Crissy tell you is a sight to behold indeed and Crissy thinks she much prefers the naked Mister to the Mister in his Mom Sweater Mister.

See?

That’s much better isn’t it?

At least the naked Mister looks a little dark and mysterious and fuckable as long as you’re into normal serial killers instead of ones with mommy issues like that Norman Bates guy or whatever his name is from that old movie with the shower and the blood and everything.

Right?

But then again maybe Crissy shouldn’t make fun of Mister and his Mom Sweater because he got more comments on Crissy’s blog yesterday than Crissy has all week and most of last week too so his dick is clearly much, much larger than Crissy’s.

so it’s me.

crissy’s pimp. aka ken.

i know i have my own blog, but all it’s got is a lot of pictures on it. the rest is tube amps and subarus. besides, having your own blog never stopped any of the other guest posters, now, did it?

i’m not entirely comfortable up here on the podium. my wife has big shoes to fill… i don’t know how she does it day after day–i can barely take a fucking picture every day. so first i have to tip my hat to her for that.

lately she’s been pregnant. very lately she’s been weeble-y, as in, remarkably round in the uterus region. it makes the standard “ring her bell” position (missionary) a bit like riding a see-saw. not that it matters, really, because she can only lie on her back for 30 seconds before her legs fall asleep.

let me tell you right now that if you’re looking for a coherent post today, fuck off and go somewhere else.

so yesterday my gorgeous little weeble asked me to give her a good Word Of The Week, since i am generally good for an obscure filthy word right off the top of my head. i started chewing my cud but then got distracted and totally forgot about it.

without further ado, i’d like to announce that the word of the week is “the shocker.”

now, some of you may be saying, “wtf? the shocker isn’t an obscure word?” and you might be right! hell, it’s even got its own wikipedia page which means its a word that’s reached an elevated level of status and ubiquity not commonly seen in slang.

i also think that crissy’s readers make up a varied slice of the demographic pie, and as a service to them i’m bringing in vocabulary that while not new to all, will nonetheless bring us together under an umbrella of common vulgarity. that IS the true power of the internet, after all.

so i first heard about the shocker in 1992. my roomate at the US Naval Academy, mike segura, and i had been hacking on the infantile internet, trying to score dates in rudimentary chatrooms. back then, if you wanted to see what the person you were talking to looked like, you had to exchange snail mail addresses, mail a fucking photograph, and wait a week. still, as a midshipman, this was pimpin’.

anyway, he struck it up with a girl from texas and had some good old-fashioned chatroom sex. things went to the next level, they exchanged pictures, and before long he was planning on flying out to see her over a weekend. this, i initially thought, was crazy, but there was the promise of pussy at the end of the rainbow, so it was worth a shot. he packed his bags and was off to find his destiny.

after his return, mike was pretty tight-lipped about his sexploits, but he did divulge that he had employed an “advanced tactical manouver,” and during the debriefing described what he later dubbed “the shocker.” (incidentally in his iteration, the thumb WAS left in the upright position to provide direct clitoral stimulation, which some people–jenna bush, for example–do not opt to do.) according to his testimony, the shocker precipitated the desired outcome and everyone left happy.

still, as the rest of us constantly pointed out, mike would have saved a lot of money if he had just gone into town and rented a hooker instead of flying halfway across the country chasing some tail.

1992 was even before the various “taglines” for the shocker were in use, the most common of which is:

Two in the pink, one in the stink.

some others of note (sourced from urban dictonary):

Crimson: 2, Brown: 1.
Two in the go, one in the no.
Two at Yale, one at Brown.
Two in the beav, with an ace up the sleeve.
Two in the blood, one in the mud.
Two in the bow, one in the stern.
Two in the Bush, one in the Cheney.
Two in the cat, one in the shat.
Two scoops of strawberry, one scoop of chocolate.
Two in the kitty, one in the shitty.
Two in the coin slot, one in the balloon knot.
Two in the creamer, one in the steamer.
Two in the curtains, one in the hurtin’s.
Two in the gap, one in the crap.
Two where you should, one where you could.
Two in the ham, one in the God Damn!

and last but not least, my personal fave:

Two in the grassy knoll, one in the assy hole.

so spread the word… flash the shocker to a coworker today, and see if they “get it.” you may have a new friend by the end of the day!

Oh Queefs.

Crissy has been at the deli counter at the Stop & Shop again.

She went yesterday to buy Mister some Italian meat products with which to make an Italian sub because that’s his favorite (Crissy also likes the Italian meat but in a very different way) as a present for working so hard to put walls in Taco’s room and guess who was working.

Yeah, that’s right.

It was Vinny.

Huhhuhuhuhhuhuhuhuuuuu…Vinny.

If you don’t know Vinny then you’re clearly new here because Crissy and Vinny have been having a rather turbulent love affair for about a year now and oh how the passion has not died Queefs!

And when Crissy asked him for his hard salami he said to her “sure thing doll” and Crissy thinks she might have that tattooed on her inner thigh and it made her Old Navy maternity panties (holla Melissa Lion!) start to fall off right there in front of the Mortadella (Crissy does not know what that is but she bought some because Vinny said his Mortadella belonged in her Mister’s sandwich) and it was getting all hot and heavy with the meat this and meat that and then all of a sudden

Rrrrrrrriiiiiipppppp! (or something else that sounds like a record scratching violently)

He handed Crissy’s meat order over to someone else !!!!!

And Crissy would normally understand because Vinny is the Deli Manager and he is a very important man who cannot spend his whole day with Crissy but then he said, and this just hurts Crissy so much you guys

“Somebody take care of my girl here before she goes into labor.”

Oh.

Crissy sees that Vinny is not into Wheebling as much as she hoped.

But he called her his girl so that must mean something like he wishes Taco was from the provolone of his loins or, or, whatever right?

RIGHT????

Vinny still loves Crissy doesn’t he Queefs?

Crissy just worries is all because this isn’t the first time that Vinny has toyed with her in his careless yet irresistible sexy beastly bad boy way.

What is to become of Crissy’s delicatessen experiences without Vinny to call her sweehot, doll, honey, and babe?

Crissy will tell you.

It will become total shit you guys.

But that is okay because Crissy has a plan to win Vinny back to her. She won’t be a weeble for very much longer and then it will be all bow chica bow bow or bada bing bada boom or “I’ll give you my meat sweehot” or whatever again like it used to be.

And so Vinny better watch out because as soon as Taco comes out she’s going to put on her very best nursing bra and show that boy a little something from the Dairy department and then he’ll want to check her produce.

Fuggedaboudit.

Crissy doesn’t have much to say about the whole Octomom thing except that every time she hears the word Octomom she thinks of a Supervillian with 8 boobies and so she drew a picture to show you what she means.

Thank heavens to Betsy today is a new day Queefs.

Crissy’s day was a bit rough yesterday and it all involved people either fucking her over or trying to fuck her over and you know what?

Crissy is fucking sick of all the fucking over going on up in here!

Don’t fuck with Crissy anymore DO YOU HEAR THAT WORLD???

CUT IT OUT.

You don’t want to see Crissy go out in a blaze of glory with a shotgun or a bomb or a five pound bag of chocolates or something do ya?

Remember when Crissy said that she wanted a new refrigerator that came complete with two Asian bitches who can chop non-frozen lettuce like there’s no tomorrow but she cannot afford one?

Well the irony, and Crissy posted about this on Monday’s post but pulled it back because she even bored herself with it so some of you early readers already know about this, is that Crissy actually has a brand new wonderful fancy refrigerator that does not freeze lettuce or get rusty in humid weather that even had an ice maker and a water dispenser right in the door that used to fit in her old house but does not fit in the smaller built in space in her new house and so it sits in the basement collecting kitty box dust.

And Crissy is trying to sell it so she can raise the money to get a new one that will fit in her new kitchen.

This has proven to be nearly fucking impossible because no honest person has that kind of cash right now and so not once but twice yesterday Crissy heard from some butthole scammers:

Hello,

Thanks for the quick response… Am satisfied with the price and condition of the item. I will like to make an outright purchase of the item.I am out of town on a business trip and i don’t know when i will be back, so i will like to proceed in issuing out a certified check to you direct from my Bank and upon the confirmation and clearance of payment at your own Bank my mover will come for the pick-up at your location and then deliver it to my place. So i would appreciate if you can get back to me with your full name, address, zipcode and cell phone number so that payment can be mail out on time asap. let me read from you today.

Warm Regards.

Yeah.

Warm Regards as I fuck you up the ass with a phony certified check whilst enjoying a cool beverage with crushed ice in it from your wonderful fancy refrigerator.

And so Crissy wrote back and said “Cash only. In person or nothing.”

And he said:

Am for real bear with me and accept my term payment because the check will be issue from my bank,so get back to me with your details for payment.

Fuck that Queefs.

And then another one:

hello

Is this item still available for sale get back o me asap today

thanks
scott joe
228 Seaview Lane
Corpus Christi,TX 78411

And now Crissy is getting smart because this asstard, just like the other buttmonkey, does not even mention what the “item” is.

Also, HE’S IN FUCKING TEXAS!!! Last Crissy knew it would cost a lot of monies to ship a refrigerator from Rhode Island to Texas so she wrote back, “Don’t you think it will be a little hard for you to pick the fridge up all the way from Texas, or are you responding to my ad for the life size sculpture of my vagina? Either way, they’re both pretty big and Texas is pretty far.”

And he/it/whatever wrote back:

Well, thanks for the prompt response I realy appreciate your honesty ,This is due to the fact that my mode of payment will be Via Bank Certified Cashiers Check As there are too many scams on internet with bogus account. Once you are satisfied with my mode of payment you can proceed to delete the advert,so email me your name and address not a PO box and also with your phone number to received the check. The check will be mailed via UPS or FedEx air so it will be delivered .please i need assurance that the item would be available for my shipping company to picked up from you, as soon as you recieve payment and cleared your bank Because i may be out of town anytime from now on a business trip I shall forward my shipper’s information Then you will proceed to have the check deposited….

Thanks.

Crissy doesn’t think so douchemuncher.

So Crissy is pretty frustrated and disheartened that the world is so full of motherfuckers and assclowns and so last night while she made some emergency vegan chocolate raspberry cookies for her Papa’s 93rd birthday because Outlook fucked her over and didn’t remind her it was his birthday until 16 hours after it had started, she was looking forward to waking up this morning to a new day when perhaps nobody tried to fuck with her.

And then she looked through the mail and there was a second rejection letter for Girlfriend from the Fucktard Barnyard school because apparently rejecting her once was not enough.

So now Crissy knows what she’s giving up for Lent.

It was going to be blow jobs but no.

She’s giving up taking bullshit from people.

That’s quite enough.

And now a Lenten song for the Queefs…

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It’s that magikal time of year again Queefs when Jesus is said to have come home from 40 days out in the desert to tell us all about his wicked awesome diet where he did not eat so much as a single Cadbury mini-egg the whole time and also how he survived Satan’s temptations like masturbation, homosexuals, abortions and excessive credit card usage and how we can do it too.

And maybe Crissy should start studying the bible or something because she would love to know how Jesus supposedly got through 40 days without eating any of the delicious Easter treats they have at Target right now because you know there’s one in the desert somewhere and you know he went in there for a new pair of Spring flip flops and he had to pass right by the Easter candy. Don’t tell Crissy he wasn’t tempted Queefs. Who can resist a delicious and adorable marshmallow Peep?

Nobody.

Not even the messiah or whatever.

Crissy thinks Jesus prolly cheated on his diet at least once.

As have all the ladies at work who about a week ago were all

and on Ass Wednesday they all walked around with freaking ashes from lord knows where (probably Josephine’s mother) on their heads but Crissy has noticed a steady decrease in the amount of chocolates in the candy jar.

AND IT’S NOT ALL CRISSY.

Just some of it is Crissy.

This means that somebody if not the entirety of the church ladyhood is cheating and Jesus is gonna get mad and shout “no Easter basket for you this year wicked woman(s)!” right at them.

That’s what Jesus brings you if you’re good during Lent right? Crissy has no idea.

And you don’t want to be around the break room on a Friday because everyone is cranky because they had to skip their turkey sandwiches in favor of tuna and the joint just wreaks of dirty fish twidgets.

Crissy hates that.

And Lynne and Crissy just sit back and laugh and send eecards about what we’re giving up for Lent this year and Lynne thought she’d give up masturbating in the staff bathroom but it was making her bitchy so she chose to give up skydiving and swallowing semen instead which Crissy thinks are wise choices because skydiving is dangerous anyway and semen has a lot of calories in it and if Lynne wants to be bikini ready for her vacation she’s going to have to dial it back a little bit. Everyone knows too much cum guzzling is not good for the waistline. You’ve seen what it did to Crissy’s. Although she’s pretty sure she didn’t swallow it that one time.

But still.

And Crissy is still undecided about what she’s giving up so in the meantime you Queefs should tell Crissy and Jesus what you’re giving up for lent so that we can snicker about it behind your back support you 100%.

PS: go over to Mom In Real Life’s Comic Blog to see the most awesomest co-post ever. Crissy’s been playing with her Barbies again and that’s all she’s gonna tell ya.

The Crissys would like to thank Mr. Turd Ferguson, Historical Commisson Dickhead in Charge of Making it Impossible for Nice People to Protect their Children From Lead Hazards Due to Retarded and Unreasonable Constraints Placed Upon Them for forcing the Crissys to come up with a Plan B for their window situation because even with the loan from the state the Crissys will still have to come up with a lot of money on their own for the windows Mr. Ferguson wants them to have and they just don’t have it so that puts an end to the whole affair.

And the Queefs can also thank Mr. Ferguson for forcing Crissy to keep talking about it even though nobody cares about windows. (Crissy can see the collective eye roll from the Queefs whenever she mentions her windows and to that she says, “meh.”)

What a Buttmunch.

And so today Crissy is announcing Window Replacement Plan B which is very complicated and has a lot of steps and mathematical equations involved in it but to sum it up for everyone who isn’t as smart as they are Crissy will just tell you that they plan to do a lot of Begging and Mister will replace the windows his own self.

And we will get these because they’re what we want and not what Mr. Ferguson wants.

These go better with the Crissy’s house anyway because it’s a Craftsman style house and you Queefs remember Frank Lloyd Wright don’t you? Well think of him when you think of Crissy’s house and you’ll know that these are the windows he would have wanted. And clearly Mr. Ferguson needs some schooling in the history of architecture and design because he wanted something totally different for the Crissy’s house.

Anyway, Crissy and Mister are going to beg their parents for money because Crissy and Mister know their parents have money and they’re just not giving them any.

And they figure that it’s because they haven’t been offered anything in return and so the Crissys have come up with a Geinus Idea.

They’re going to offer memorial plaques to be placed on the windows that say things like “This window begrudgingly purchased by Linda, 2009. She hopes Crissy will shut up now.” Or ” In Loving Memory of Ken and Marcy Who Are Not Yet Dead But Probably Will Be Someday And Then We Will Look Out This Window While Tequila Takes a Shit in the Yard and Think of Them Sometimes.”

That could work couldn’t it Queefs?

Of course the Crissys have not run this by their parents yet but so far it seems to be a rock solid plan.

And do not worry or feel left out because the Crissys are going to open up this marvelous opportunity to you Queefs as well!!!

For the low, low price $600 each of you Queefs can have your name on a plaque inside of Crissy’s house that says you donated the window and you can have it say anything you want.

Isn’t that awesome?

Word of the Week:

Tony Danza

From Urban Dictionary: To clarify, the Tony Danza is when you are balls-deep in a woman from behind and while ramming her mercilessly, you proceed to yell, “Who’s the boss?! Who’s the boss, bitch?!” Typically, she will yell, “You are!” at which point you turn her around, slap her with your cock and yell, “No. Tony Danza’s the boss, bitch”

Crissy gives Turd Ferguson the Tony Danza, and then blogs about it. Why wouldn’t she?