Well tomorrow Crissy goes to the Taco Doctor to see if her cervix is doing anything interesting and if Crissy were a gamblin’ woman she’d bet that the answer will be “no” and she’ll cry a little bit inside because really?

Crissy is all set with the knocked up-ness.

A little dilation would give her hope that something is going to happen at some point and that no. Crissy will not be pregnant forever.

But she feels like she will be and she was just telling her friend Stoogie about how she really wants a drinkie and then she’d like to get thrown all over her bed and fucked eight ways to Sunday.

Funny, the things you miss the most…hangovers and a sore crotchal area.

Sigh.

Good times.

You know what else Crissy misses the most?

Being able to do things for herself.

Last night, Mister had to paint Crissy’s toes because she just couldn’t reach them comfortably because the damn belly is in the way and no matter what sort of strategery she employed, she just couldn’t get there for long enough with a steady hand to paint her toes in a manner that didn’t look like she had painted them with, well, her feet.

And you know what else?

Crissy hasn’t been able to shave her own noonie for the past two months and so Mister has been doing that for her too. She hasn’t even seen her noonie and she’s worried about it.

What if it’s different? What if Crissy’s pretty little noonie is all wrong now? That would be terrible.

So anyways, Crissy has heard that semen can help a cervix soften and dilate but it takes a lot of it and poor Mister really isn’t up for producing gallons of the stuff and so Crissy is asking the boy Queefs to help her out. She thought of going around her neighborhood with a collection cup but then she remembered that she lives in an idiot colony and she doesn’t want any idiot semen, just smart semen thanks, and so she’s asking all the boy Queefs who clearly are smart because they read Crissy’s blog to save a tree and let the cup be your dream catcher for a day.

You can email Crissy for an address to send it to.

Thank you in advance, boy Queefs.

Crissy knows you won’t let her down and she’s looking into getting some sort of receipt for you so you can put your donation on your taxes next year.

You know what Crissy is really good at Queefies?

I Spy.

Every night before locking Girlfriend in her cage sending Girlfriend off to Bedfordshire, the Crissys snuggle in Crissy and Mister’s big bed with the fluffy comforter and way, way too many pillows but that’s how Crissy likes it so Mister can just shut the fuck up about it and read a story and then look at one of Girlfriend’s I Spy books.

And you know what you guys?

Mister and Girlfriend suck.

And Crissy doesn’t want to solve the whole picture riddle herself because that’s not nice and it’s no fun for anyone but Crissy and so she just sits there as the thing they’re looking for is about flashing in neon and they still can’t see it! And so Crissy sits there biting her lip and convulsing under the strain of keeping quiet.

Finding stuff is obviously one of Crissy’s many, many natural and innate talents and it’s not limited to I Spy, you know. She’s also very good at finding lost shoes and big giant bottles of ketchup that are hiding rightfuckingthere on the refrigerator door where nobody can see them.

It’s pretty impressive if Crissy says so herself.

So for today, Crissy is going to play I Spy with her Queefies.

Here is a picture of Crissy’s kitchen junk drawer (Don’t judge. You all have one and you know it and Crissy knows it):

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To enlarge the picture, click on it, then after it loads you can click on the four-arrow icon in the bottom right to zoom to 100%.

In this picture there are:
7 dicks
A pair of BOOBIES!!!
A fortune telling fish
A Weeble
A maple leaf
Cha-Cha-Cha-Chia seeds!
BACK DOOR
Big Pussy’s rabies tag
Fighting Frog
RAM
Hemostats
Woefully underused in the last nine months bottle stopper
Crazy glue

The Queef to find all of the goodies in Crissy’s drawer gets absolutely nothing. But if you insist on some sort of reward, you can treat yourself to a nice rub out in the bathroom at work.

Crissy won’t tell.

Crissy has been meaning to mention this for a while now but she keeps forgetting and so don’t anyone think she’s been living in her basement watching QVC and eating cheetos oblivious to the fashion trends of late because she’s not.

Crissy has her finger on the very pulse, nay,  the very ball sack of the fashion world as any good Queen would and she knows all about what’s hot and new and the new hotness.

Crissy shops at Target, you know.

So show of hands, Queefies:

How many of us were in Jr. High or High School during the 80’s? Crissy has to ask that because she knows that many of you were born in the 90’s!!!! Your parents weren’t even married yet, and Crissy was rocking out to “blister in the sun” (would you believe Mister doesn’t know the words to that song? Freak.) and spraying her hair with Sun-in.

Let Crissy tell you babies that the 80’s were not the world’s greatest fashion moment. Everyone who remembers them knows that, and so why oh why are they sooooo back?

It’s because you kids like your “retro” nonsense.

If you ask Crissy, the only good thing about the giant sweaters with enormous buttons was that the buttons were easy for arthritics and preschoolers to button themselves.

Other than that?

They’re just silly.

And why with the leggings?

Crissy knows some of us worship the leggings, but really?

Most people shouldn’t be wearing them, but they are and it hurts Crissy’s eyes.

And Crissy could go on and on but you guys already know what she’s talking about so she won’t bore you with a list of what fabulous 80’s thing is all the rage.

The point Crissy is trying to make is what’s next Queefs?

Stirrup pants?

OH THE HORROR!!!

Are they back already and Crissy just hasn’t noticed them yet?

Prolly.

And what about the big giant hair with all the Aqua Net?

And the banana clips.

Crissy didn’t have the big hair, but she had one of those bad boys in every color, naturally.

Crissy just couldn’t get her hair to do the big poofy thing in the front no matter how she curled and sprayed and sprayed and curled and it made her feel like less of a person and so she compensated for her poof  inadequacies by wearing a couple of extra pairs of socks with her pastel green Reebok high tops.

It was totally bitchin’.

But you know what she saw on the Tee-Vee the other day that would have done the trick for Crissy’s hair?

It was this.

Before you click that link, just know it has SOUND so turn your speakers off at work so you don’t get fired and have to stop reading Crissy’s blog because at your new job they don’t have Internets working at McDonald’s drive-thru.

Here’s a picture for you pain in the arse non-clickers:


Flat hair, Queefs?

Well, BUMP IT UP!

And they say you can even wear them on the Upper East Side OR The Red Carpet!

Howfuckingawesome is the bumpit?

Too awesome for Crissy that’s for sure!

But you know what?

Crissy is going to embrace it.

After the Taco comes out, Crissy is going to totally pimp her style and she’s going all in.

It’s going to be 1986 up in this bitch and you will all be even more jealous of Crissy than you are already.

If that’s even possible!

Happy Motherfucking Monday Queefies!

Crissy is bummed that the weekend is over because she and Mister and Girlfriend had a very nice couple of days together after weeks and weeks of not being a family because of all the Taco projects going on.

But now it’s Monday and reality and WORK.

Ew.

Before Crissy moves on to her post today, she would like to let you sweet and thoughtful emailing Queefs know that despite appearances to the contrary, she did not forget to post pictures of Girlfriend’s hair-do or “hair-dude” as Girlfriend pronounces it. She just hasn’t done it because it hasn’t been done yet. It doesn’t look so bad that it’s an emergency, and the Crissys tried twice this weekend, but they kept missing Miss Stephanie. Pictures will be posted as soon as there’s something to post.

Pinkie swear.

So, anyway.

Look at this cute little doggie!

!!!!!DSC00054

That’s Martha on the Afterglow with Mister’s dad behind her and yes. That is a life jacket she’s wearing.

WHAT?

Would you want to watch little Martha drown?

Crissy doesn’t think so.

Well, maybe you will by the end of this post…

Ahem.

Isn’t she just the most precious little thing on the whole entire earth?

Right?

Juss wook ad teh widdle face on hurr…

That’s what Crissy thought when she saw her at the shelter and she looked at Mister said she just had to have her. Pay close attention to the words just had to have her because those are the words Mister spent about five years throwing in Crissy’s face every time Martha had an episode or an incident.

You see, cute as she is, Martha had a little bit of a problem.

Actually, Martha had more than just one problem. She had a multitude of problems which Crissy will detail for you here.

First there was “The Stink.”

All of a sudden, out of nowhere, her bum would leak what can only be described of as evil. And it would only come out when she was on some difficult to clean surface like a lap, bed, or couch. Apparently, she had some sort of an issue with her anal glands and that stuff that makes doggie shit smell like doggie shit would just leak out of her at super-concentrated power. And Mister would look at Crissy with a spot of the evil stink on his pants and say what, Queefies?

“You just had to have her.”

And Martha would bark at Mister like he was a total stranger every. single. time. he stood up to do anything in the house.

And she used to snap at imaginary flies. She’d just be sitting there and then the next second she’d be nipping furiously at the air. The vet said it was a seizure disorder and that she really thought she was getting buzzed by bugs.

But Crissy just had to have her.

She’s so cute and snuggly!

Then there’s the time she ate a big, BIG bar of Hershey’s Special Dark that Mister had carelessly left out on the coffee table over night and Martha woke Crissy up by throwing up melted chocolate on Crissy’s face and proceeded to spend the day throwing up all over the place including down Crissy’s back while she was on the phone with the vet and holding a violently shaking little Martha to comfort her.

Crissy still cannot even think about Hershey’s syrup without getting ill.

And still, Crissy just had to have her.

But the final straw came when Girlfriend was just two days shy of her second birthday and Crissy was outside showing her how to pet the doggie nicely and Crissy had her hands on both Girlfriend and Martha when in a split second, Martha turned on Girlfriend, pinned her to the ground, and ripped into her face with teeth and claws.

Crissy was so close to the action that she saw Girlfriend’s injuries before they even bled, but was powerless to stop it because she would have had to have super-speed and she doesn’t have that.

And it looked bad, Queefs.

Girlfriend had to go to the hospital and has a scar on her little cheek from it.

And then Martha went to live with a nice little old I-talian lady from craigslist whose grandchildren were all grown up because after that?

Crissy didn’t just have to have Martha anymore.

Besides, Alice and Mister never liked the bitch.

And Crissy is telling you this story for no apparent reason except that it’s Monday and she was up all night experiencing what her book calls pre-labor which can come an hour before real labor starts or a month.

Needless to say, Crissy feels like ass today because it’s still going on and she might call the doctor just to get a snitty answer and then feel stupid for calling.

Taco needs to wait another week at least before it’s cool to come out so slow down there homeslice.

Jesus.