Archive for June, 2009

Hey Queefies!

First order of bizness this morning is where to get Crissy’s boobie dress because she got lots of emails and a few comments requesting Royal Shopping Guidance so you should all go here for the boobie dress.

Crissy bought one in brown, too.

Crissy loves Kohl’s and it is where she went to get all her post baby clothes because it’s cute and stylish and doesn’t cost a millionty dollars.  Crissy does not plan on being fat forever, you know.  It’s just that people keep giving her cake.  Please stop that Queefies.

And Crissy keeps eating the cake that people give her because of this bullshit:

This week is the nicest weather we’ve had all month.  Since Homeslice came into the world it has rained every. single. day. and been cloudy and crappy and cold and it makes Crissy’s mom laugh every time Crissy tells her the weather is “soul crushing” but that is how Crissy feels.  And the rain makes Crissy so sad that Mister has banned the watching of the weather at Crissy’s house because he’s tired of all the bitching and the crying and the throwing of things that are heavy at the television.

You think Crissy is kidding you.

Crissy lives for summertime and fluffy skirts and dresses and not sweatpants and sweaters and she cannot possibly stuff her ass into her jeans yet and she wasn’t meant to live in New England but she does and she can’t really leave and so summertime is the only time when Crissy feels right as rain or, well, not rain. Um, something else entirely.

And so Crissy eats the cake.

And she drinks the wine.

And she mashes up the Klonopins and sprinkles them on her pasta.

Doesn’t the weather know Crissy is trying not to get all postpartum-y and shit?  Doesn’t it care about Crissy’s feelings?

Can we sue the weather?

Anyone know?

Sigh.

The only thing that Crissy will admit is good about all the rain is that her garden is super excited:

You’re looking at some happy ass chives, some fucking dill, cilantro, basil, lettuce, carrots, zucchini, and summer squash.  There’s also some watermelon, strawberries, tomatoes, cucumbers, and a couple of pumpkins that Crissy did not plant but came up on their own after Crissy tossed her Halloween pumpkin in there back in November.  It may or may not kill the tomatoes and then move on to eat Crissy’s house.

If you know Crissy at all, and you should because Crissy tells the Queefs everything, then you know that her garden makes her very happy and she loves nothing more than to walk outside and get dinner out of the yard.  Sometimes she even catches a woodland creature in her teeth and cooks that up with a little of that basil or maybe some cilantro if she’s feeling like Mexican and not just plain old basily woodland creature.  You have to mix things up to keep it interesting, Queefs.

Anyyummysquirrels, Crissy is going to go and hide her knives and try to find a fire arms buy back program because if this rain keeps up she’s likely to do that whole blaze of glory thing at the Wal-Mart.  It’s best to take preventative measures, don’t you think?

When your birthday falls on a Friday you can declare it your Birthday Weekend and nobody can say shit to you until Monday.

It’s true, Queefs.

You can start saying shit to Crissy now.

It is no longer her birthday.

Boo.

Crissy and Mister and Michele and Richard went out on Friday night to this establishment with cloth napkins and NO KID’S MENU.  It was also Michele and Rich’s wedding anniversary but whatever because this post is about Crissy’s birthday and not those guys and she just wishes they’d stop making her birthday all about them but clearly Crissy’s birthday is a day when magical things happen like people getting married and queens being born and stuff.

And Crissy had the Salmon Oscar which was very nice and the other people all had something too but Crissy doesn’t remember what because LOOK!

A MARTINI!!!

Crissy hasn’t had one of those bad boys in like, well, forever and so it was pretty glorious.  There was also wine involved if you must know and Crissy was a little bit nervous about all the alcohols but it turns out that she was not Party Asshole.  In fact, nobody was Party Asshole and that makes Crissy a little bit sad because that leaves her with very little to report to the Queefs who she knows have been waiting all weekend to find out about how the royal festivities went and so Crissy will just show the Queefs a picture of The Royal Bosom instead and hope that is exciting enough:

Crissy does not know why Mister chose to make the picture black and white because it looks stupid like that do you hear Crissy Mister? but she told you Queefs that her birthday dress would show off her boobies in a very spectacular way and it totally did.

Everyone was commenting and by everyone Crissy means everyone.

Even Crissy’s mother-in-law wanted to fluff them and maybe even do a little motorboating.

True story.

And then on Saturday Crissy’s mom made her a lovely breakfast and a nice cake:

And it was so delicious that Crissy ate half of it that very day and then some for breakfast yesterday and some more for lunch.

Crissy does not know why her baby weight isn’t just falling off of her.

Oh Queefies.

Tomorrow is Crissy’s 35th birthday and she’s all in a kerfuffle over it and it’s not that she’s going to BE IN HER MID THIRTIES HOLY SHIT that is bothering her.

She’s got a case of Birthday Anxiety because if something shitty is going to happen, it’s going to happen on Crissy’s birthday because it’s usually the day when people closest to Crissy decide to act like total assholes and treat Crissy like trash.

And so every year, Crissy’s birthday rolls around and Crissy becomes more and more anxious as the day approaches until she’s a total mess on the actual day because she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop or the cake to explode in her face or something and she tells herself that everyone is acting weird around her because they’re planning a big, wonderful surprise for her but it never happens and it turns out the people are just assholes being their assholian selves.

It’s also Dead Grandma Helen’s birthday and it makes Crissy sad that she’s not alive anymore because Crissy’s family always had a party for Crissy and Grandma Helen and now they don’t.  Note to the Queefies: Don’t be born on the same day as somebody who might die before you.

Does Crissy sound depressed to you?

Crissy thinks so.

Maybe it’s the THREE WEEKS STRAIGHT OF RAIN AND 65 DEGREE TEMPS that has Crissy all bummed out.

But don’t worry about Crissy.  There are fun plans for tomorrow night and  Crissy is looking forward to having dinner with Rich and Michele and hopefully Mister will be able to make it because of course he has to work late and maybe he won’t be there.

But it will be fun no matter what because Crissy plans to drown in copious amounts of alcohol and maybe be Party Asshole which will make Rich and Michele laugh and that will make Crissy laugh too.

Also, Crissy’s step-mom said she’d buy her this for her birthday:

Crissy got a microwave last year and a fridge this year and if this keeps up, she’ll have a whole new kitchen by the time she’s 40!

YES!!!!

And Crissy’s mom and her mother-in-law are paying for her two pairs of glasses so that’s really nice too.

As for Mister, Crissy does not think she’s getting a present because the trip to the vet with Alice pretty much ate up all the money he had budgeted for a present and so for her birthday Mister gave Crissy the gift of not having to clean up bloody diarrhea.

Awesome.

But you know what?  That is a pretty sweet gift when Crissy thinks of it because it keeps on giving every time Alice goes potty outside and not on the antique grandmother dining room rug.

But if he could, Crissy would tell Mister to buy this stuff Mister would bestow the following gifts upon Crissy:

A shopping trip here and here.

And Crissy still wants that bike from last year.

And she needs to get her hair did because seriously?

Crissy is not really blond and it is becoming rather apparent that Crissy’s real hair color is more like that of a field mouse without all the glitz and glamor of actually being fieldmousian.

Shhhhhhhh! Tell nobody.

And of course on the list every damn time and nobody has gotten it for her yet is this:

Seriously people.  They’re not getting any cheaper.

Crissy would totally keep going with this because her list of needs and wants is pretty much endless as befitting the Queen of Fucking Everything but Homeslice is crying and it means only one thing.

Crissy has to go.

So this post was supposed to go up yesterday but the bloody diarrhea just had to be discussed but the good news is that the nice doggie doctor said Alice will live to eat another diaper and that the blood is just from the strain of her poopy stomach and so a little ass-raping to the tune of $88 and Alice and Crissy were on their way home with some pills and a song in their hearts or something.

So that’s that.

And Crissy has some exciting news!

She left the house with Mister and they did not bring the little childrens!

Do you know where they went Queefies?

To the movies?

To a strip club for a couple of lap dances and a blow job?

To a fancy dinner to eat fancy steak and drink fancy drinks and say inappropriate things to the waitress?

Nay, nay peoples.

They went to the Eye Doctor.

The Crissys know how to fucking party so try not to want to stab yourself with scissors ’cause you’re so jealous of Crissy’s life but do you guys remember how Crissy feels about going to the dentist?

You do?

Well she feels even less enthusiastic about the eye doctor because of the whole face touching thing and the whole eye numbing thing.  You Queefs can understand that can’t you?  How freaky is it to have your eyes numbed and your pupils dilated?

It’s wicked freaky you guys.

Wicked.

Crissy has had enough things dilated as of late to last her a lifetime but she needed new glasses and so did Mister and so they went and the woman who owns the eye place is going to put Crissy and Mister’s picture up on her website because the glasses they picked out are totally going to raise their awesomeness quotient to like, unheard of levels.

Check it:

Crissy and Mister’s pupils are dilated in this picture and so they look like aliens or like they’re epically stoned but whatever because they’re famous now because they’re on a website.

Wait. This is a website isn’t it?

Huh.

AnyalreadyfamousCrissy, even though she will have the most awesome glasses ever, Crissy is totally bummed out because as it turns out she needs eye surgery.

WT Fucking F?

See this little tiny bump on her eyelid?

Turns out that’s not so good and she has to have it operated on and they’re probably going to go ahead and remove her eye and so the best Crissy can hope for at this point is that they give her a sassy little pirate eye patch to wear or something.

AND…

AND!!!!

She has some broken blood vessels way in the back of her eye and the doctor says it could be from pushing Homeslice out, but it could also mean the beginnings of some scary shit for Crissy because remember how she said her mom is blind?

Yeah.

So Crissy will have to wait eight weeks for a re-check of the eye situation but in the meantime she will be alternately praying that it goes away and thinking of an awesome name for her cane because she can’t let her mom have the only cane with a cool name.

Do you guys think that tile is graphic enough?

Crissy isn’t sure but you have to check this bullshit the fuck out.

It’s 4 am at Crissy’s house and Crissy has been up all night and not even with Homeslice. It was Alice who was clinging to Crissy’s leg and hyper-panting all night only to get up while Crissy was feeding Homeslice to follow Mister downstairs to go outside when she had explosive bloody diarrhea all down the stairs and it was loud you guys and there was a lot of it and when it was all over Crissy was just like “dooooood” and Mister was all “This is so fucking retarded” and then he went to get the paper towels.

And Crissy was just glad it wasn’t on her 1,000 thread count sheets or her favorite duvet from Ikea because her motto is “don’t sleep in a bed full of shit” (sorry bed shitting Queefs, but shitting the bed is just icky) and so that is the good news but the bad news is that Mister had to clean it up all by himself because Crissy was feeding Homeslice but don’t worry. Crissy paid for her comment she made to Mister about being “real sorry (she) couldn’t help clean up the mess, but somebody’s got to feed the hungry baby or she might just starve to death” because at that instant Homeslice barfed all down Crissy’s chestal area.

And Mister actually had the nerve to laugh at Crissy and he went “ha,ha” just like that at her.

What a dick.

And so that is what happened at Crissy’s house at 4 this morning and before any of you Queefs go getting jealous that your life isn’t as fun and glamorous as Crissy’s and that your house doesn’t smell like Satan’s colon just know that at this moment Alice is on Crissy’s bed licking her bloody diarrhea asshole and Crissy is waiting for the Vet’s office to open so she can report to them about Alice’s poopy stomach and Crissy’s asshole already hurts because you know this means Alice needs expensive tests and procedures which Crissy cannot afford because her maternity leave is not paid and if Crissy has to go back to work after only 3 weeks because the motherfucking dog had a dietary indiscretion and ate a fucking diaper or diaper shit or a diaper wipe or some fucking thing and now needs expensive surgery to remove it Crissy is going to be pissed.

Like, epic kind of pissed.

You know what blessed day is coming soon Queefs?

It’s Crissy’s birthday.

She’ll be 35 on June 26th so you’d better get your asses in gear and start sending those presents right away.  The QOFE is displeased by the lack of wonderful packages on her front porch as of late.

Also, she hasn’t heard of any plans for a parade through the streets of  Schmuckytown and not even a whisper about the fireworks display.

WTF people?

AnynobodylovesCrissyanymore, Crissy is thinking very hard about her birthday and she bought a really, really cute dress that will show off her nursing boobies in a very, very spectacular way and it looks awesome on her even though she’s still got about 15lbs of baby weight to lose and she’s looking forward to wearing it and Mister doesn’t know yet but he’s taking her out for dinner to a place that doesn’t have high chairs or paper napkins or crayons and Mister will invite some friends to come too (Hi Michele and Rich! Do you think Kathleen can handle all the kids at once without wanting to kill herself? There’s only one way to find out…) and Crissy is going to have some drinks.

But the problem is that Crissy hasn’t had some drinks in about 10 months and she’s just a widdle bit ascared of what will happen.

Crissy doesn’t want to be what she and her friend Rachel call Party Asshole.

Every party has one and Crissy tries so hard not to be it but sometimes it happens like the time when Crissy wound up speeding the wrong way down a one way street in a posh neighborhood after having eaten cat food because it seemed like fun at the time and then went home and peed in Suzi’s bed (Hey bed wetting Queefs!  You guys still around?  Holla!) or the time Crissy got caught in an attempted breaking and entering by the police with her ass end hanging out of  the window of her ex-boyfriend’s apartment because Crissy wanted to see if he had any beer in his fridge, or the time when Crissy lit a cigarette, took a drag, and passed out cold, falling over backward into the plants on her deck and winding up covered in mud  with broken cigarette hanging out of her mouth or what about the time Crissy insisted on telling her friend Matt how to properly anally penetrate his extremely Catholic and prudish wife because “a good ass fucking is just what that little slut needs.”

Ahem.

Yeah.

These are the things Crissy tortures herself with when she can’t sleep at night.

Crissy has been Party Asshole a lot of times and she just hates that morning after feeling when she wakes up and tries to remember if she was Party Asshole or not and sometimes somebody else takes a turn and that makes Crissy happy and Crissy’s not going to mention any names but she has a few favorite Party Asshole incidents that just warm the cockles of her heart and just in case the Queefs are unclear about what makes a person Party Asshole here are some examples for you guys:

• Having super loud sex at 3am with someone you barely know on Crissy’s kitchen counter makes you Party Asshole.
• Screaming that you saw a snake when it was really a just a shoelace makes you Party Asshole.
• Throwing up in Crissy’s car on the highway and having it blow back into the car and hit Crissy in the face and then getting out of the car at Crissy’s house, stumbling into the woods, passing out in a patch of poison ivy and shitting yourself thereby forcing Crissy and Mister to carry your drunk ass inside and up the stairs into the bathtub makes you Party Asshole. (But the Crissys got that guy back because we went sailing the next day in the hot, hot sun with the boat just going up and down all day long.)
• Sneaking into Crissy’s house in the middle of the night, crawling into bed with Rachel, and offering to give her chocolate pudding if she’d spoon with you makes you Party Asshole.

And Party Asshole is not species specific either. Oh no, no Queefies. Pets can easily be Party Asshole like the time when a little dog named Puddles walked into the middle of a bunch of Party People and took a big shit right there or when another doggie named Rufus decided to clean the cat box at a friend’s house and brought his treasure into a very, very fancy living room to enjoy on the carpet.

Crissy is proud to say that neither of these dogs were hers.

So anydrunkenidiots, Crissy is looking forward to doing something somewhat normal for her birthday and she’s just really hoping that someone else is Party Asshole and this post could just go on and on and on and so Crissy will shut up and let the Queefs tell their favorite Party Asshole story in the space provided below.

Crissy loves this song because it’s funny, and not because it has anything to do with this post except that it’s about assholes:

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Okay so today Crissy is going to try and get a little exercise because as you Queefies know, Crissy is usually teetering on the edge of depression and is always just one breath away from cutting a bitch and what she really needs to feel sane is a routine and sunshine and do you know what the weather has done?

It’s rained every damn day for two weeks.

The weather is an asshole.

Crissy finds two straight weeks of rain to be soul crushing and there’s no end in sight.  It’s going to keep raining into next week.

This is not good.

And Crissy’s routine is all shaquaed and so she must try to do something before you Queefies read about the QOFE taking people out at the Job Lot or Target or Babies R Us or some shit and so today she will try to get a little exercise.

She’s going to start with this:

And it looks like it’s for pussies but her Prenatal workout totally kicked Crissy’s ass and so she’s hoping she won’t be disappointed this morning.

This could be a very good thing or a very bad thing depending on whether or not her uterus falls out on the living room floor or not because as you know, Crissy’s slave is missing and there’s no one to clean up the mess and so the Crissys will have to move or burn the house down or something if that happens.

We’ll see.

Anyfatass, Crissy is eventually going to work her way up to being A Person Who Turbo Jams

And perhaps even A Person Who Thirty Day Shreds:

And of course she’s got her beloved Baron Baptiste who has been waiting oh so patiently for Crissy to come and make sweet, sweet love to her yoga mat pranayama with him and so there’s that too.

So yes.

Here’s to a successful ass kicking to help Crissy straighten her shit out.

Holy cats Queefies!  It’s Monday already.

How the hell did that happen?

Crissy is so busy with little Homeslice and Girlfriend that she barely knows what day it is anymore and poor, poor Girlfriend is getting neglected to death.

Just look at her:

Someone ought to give her a bath.

And then they should clean up all the toys in the yard and then they should cut the grass.

Not only has Crissy lost track of time and day but she’s also lost her Dirty Foreign Slave Person and she may have accidentally left her at Target yesterday or something but nothing is getting done around the house these days and it’s just so hard to know which Dirty Foreign Slave Person to purchase because they all look like they’re made for hard work until you get them home and they complain about the beatings and the dirt pudding for dinner and then they’re unwilling to chase the car when Crissy buys too many things and over packs the trunk leaving no more room for the Dirty Foreign Slave Person to ride home and it’s just wearing Crissy out trying to keep track of everything.

Maybe Crissy should consider doing the work herself?

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Just kidding.

Anylazyforeignslaveperson, life is turned pretty much on it’s ass over at the Crissy’s house.  Just this very morning Crissy and Mister found themselves watching an episode of True Blood and holy shit you guys is that an awesome show or what at 4:30 am because that is the only time they have when they are both awake and Girlfriend is asleep because True Blood is not appropriate for Girlfriend to watch and also as soon as Girlfriend goes to bed at night, so do Crissy and Mister but then Homeslice wakes up every morning at 4:30 to be fed and by the time that’s done, it’s almost time for Girlfriend to get up and so Crissy and Mister don’t bother going back to sleep because why?

It’s just a horrible, horrible, cruel tease and the Crissys won’t be played like that.

The Crissys prefer to take it in the pooper on their own terms whenever they can and all this being up all night and waking up at unreasonable times in the AM make Crissy remember when Girlfriend was new and Crissy vowed to never, ever have another baby and then wine happened and now there’s Homeslice and Crissy and Mister find themselves remembering what it was that made them vow that Girlfriend would be an only child and it’s not like they don’t like Homeslice or anything but these kids are awfully inconsiderate about people’s sleeping schedules and such.

Someone should complain.

And as Mister was unpacking Crissy’s breast pump a few days ago he began singing The Sound of Silence and so that is how Crissy got the title for this post in case you Queefies were wondering what it had to do with anything.

The Crissys live in the darkness now.

Like Vampires.

Like Eric the Vampire.

Crissy will write about him very soon and how he has made Edward look like the child he is and how perhaps even Mick St. John cannot possibly even come close to the hotness that is Eric and so that is your assignment, all you vampire loving Queefs.  Eric or Mick?  There will be a discussion this week. At some point.

Hey Queefs!

Crissy is not pregnant any more.  This is the last picture taken of her in all her glory.

BUH-BYE fatso and fat jokes and all other annoying things people think it’s so clever to say to a pregnant person!

See ya never again.

^^^ Isn’t Crissy just the picture of motherhood and beauty?  Of course she is!

And so, here is the birth story in bullet points because Crissy is kind and wonderful like that.

• Pitocin is both the “devil’s juice,” as one commenter called it (Crissy would go back and check to see who it was but she’s tired because SHE JUST HAD A BABY DAMNIT), and a miracle anti-pregnancy elixir. It gets the party started good and fast and hard and that’s how Crissy likes it because “if you’re gonna go, GO BIG” is Crissy’s motto.
• Same story on the Epidural. It takes the pain away, but makes it so you cannot really feel yourself move. It numbed Crissy’s under rib area and made it so she could not feel herself breathing and so her brain went into full on WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK?!? mode and Crissy went deaf and she couldn’t really see the nurse and the anesthesiologist and she hyperventilated and started passing out all over the place and it pretty much caused a panic attack the likes of which the world has never known until Crissy just wrote about it right here on her blog. The anesthesiologist was a sweet and gentle Queef and he sat with Crissy and held her hand and kept telling her that she was okay and that she was just scared and please, please come down off the ceiling and eventually Crissy did but she clung to her oxygen mask as if it was the only thing keeping her and Taco alive. Meanwhile, Mister was not allowed in the room and so went about the hospital taking pictures of stuff and stealing various hospital supplies. Nothing sexy though. Had Crissy known that the Epidural could do that, she’s not sure she would have chosen it over the pain.
• Crissy pushed for about 15 minutes before the doctor was called in like some sort of King or something for the main event when in reality, Mister and the wonderful and sweet Nurse Peggy who was also present for Girlfriend’s birth and actually stayed after her shift and cried when she was born, did all the work and the encouraging and then the doctor was called in and a snip snip here and a snip snip there and the head came out and then Mister said it was like the opening scene from Spaceballs where the ship just keeps coming and coming and it’s freaking hilarious only Crissy wasn’t laughing because she was so busy pushing 8lbs and 20 inches out of her twidget she forgot to laugh.
• It was hard work and being pregnant sucks ass but it was worth every bit of it because little Lucy is wonderful.
• Also, one thoughtful Queef asked her how her twidget was and Crissy will spare you the details about the stitches and everything and just say that everything that is supposed to be on the inside is now on the outside and Crissy is still walking around like a two dollar whore after a trucker convention at the Howard Johnson’s.  The girl tore the ass out of Crissy and when the doctor told her she’s not to put anything in her vagina until he tells her it’s okay, Crissy just laughed and said that she’s never putting anything in her vagina ever again and he just laughed and patted her and and said “you will, my dear, you will” as if he’s heard that before or something.

So yes.  Crissy’s not sure that you can yada, yada, yada a birth but she sort of just did.

She’s not sure she’s going to post very regularly over the next few weeks, actually she is sure she’s not, but she will post so don’t forget about your dear QOFE.  She’s here.  Right now Crissy is dealing with a very sick Girlfriend who is coughing her guts out and running a fever and Crissy is HYSTERICAL with worry that she’ll give the sickness to Lucy who certainly cannot handle it right now and so there’s that and the fact that Crissy and Mister are awake all night taking care of both Girlfriend and Lucy and so they’re pretty much in a circle of hell that even Dante didn’t have the balls to imagine.

Also, Crissy’s nipples hurt.

OH!  Speaking of nipples, remember how Crissy wanted to open up a topless coffee shop like the one in Maine? The townspeople burned the mother down! Thank Jesus Crissy didn’t open that shop!

Crissy is thinking of calling Lucy Homeslice for blog purposes.  Any thoughts?

***EDIT***

Crissy meant to post this picture earlier but had to quit typing and go for some more Hungarian Nipple Torture.  Better late than never, Queefies!