Everybody wants a piece of Crissy OR An emo post about Crissy feeling like a dishrag and getting no sympathy

Crissy is not feeling very fun today Queefies.

It’s cloudy and rainy again just like every day and Crissy cleans the house every day and comes down in the morning and somehow some naughty little house elves have fucked the place up while Crissy slept and Crissy weighed herself and she actually gained weight even though she’s been kicking her own ass every chance she gets and she’s even sitting here right now with her protein water and her not one but TWO sports bras on in preparation for another hour of effort for nothing and also Mister is sulking  because he’s mad at Crissy because she does not want to do the Sexy Time and no matter what Crissy’s intentions are throughout the day and no matter how she caffeinates herself, by the time Girlfriend is in bed and Homeslice  is finally quiet for at least part of the night, all Crissy wants is to sit quietly and for nobody to touch her or demand anything from her.

Crissy is doing her best and failing at making everyone happy and so she’s feeling all used up, Queefies.

And so she’s all Emo today.

That Mattress Slut really would come in handy about now…

Somebody get Crissy a Mattress Slut so Crissy won’t have to feel guilty for sleeping.

It’s worth getting an ass tumor.

So guess what you guys?

Remember how Crissy wanted a new mattress that came complete with a free Mattress Slut and a new refrigerator complete with lettuce chopping Asian Bitches?

Well she got them!

Crissy and Mister spent the weekend making The Poor who work on commission very, very happy indeed.

First they went to the furniture store where The Poor work and so they were attacked by them and it looked a lot like one of those obstacle course game shows as the Crissys ducked and bobbed and weaved their way under, around, and through tacky and over-priced living room and dining room sets to the mattress department, trying to escape ravenous sales zombies who chased them desperately shouting “is there anything I can help you find?” and the Crissys had to yell at them “NO! Let go of my leg!”

And then the Crissys saw this:

It’s a Tempur-Pedic and a light was shining down upon it and angels were singing Hallelujah! and so the Crissys bought it and this is wonderful news except that it did not come with a free slut.  This makes Crissy very sad and when she asked the salesdude if it really came with a free slut just like in the picture he looked at her like she was crazy or retarded or perverted or something.

Crissy doesn’t know what his problem was because it seems like a perfectly reasonable question to Crissy and she thinks they should put one of those little notes on the picture like they do when batteries are not included but instead it would say “slut not included” or whatever.  Crissy plans to write a strongly worded letter to the mattress people because when she pays that kind of money for a mattress she expects it to come with somebody who will do naughty things to her husband whilst she sleeps in comfort and luxury.

That’s false advertising, Queefies and  IT’S AGAINST THE LAW.

And it was delivered on Saturday, sans slut, and so far it’s been pretty nice.  It just smells like foam right now and Crissy is pretty sure that’s not too good to be breathing in and it’s probably emitting some sort of transurethanefoamcancer or something and so she’ll probably get some sort of a ass tumor from it but that’s okay because she’ll have gotten it in her sleep which seems better to her somehow and speaking of asses.

When you sit on those mattresses you leave an indentation and WHY DIDN’T SOMEBODY TELL CRISSY HER ASS WAS THAT BIG? Crissy is wondering if that ass tumor is growing already because her ass cannot possibly be that big!  Granted, she just had a baby and everything but still.

For really you guys, if you sit on one of those mattresses DO NOT LOOK AT YOUR ASS PRINT.  You’ll want to kill yourself.

And then Crissy and Mister bought a refrigerator that will most likely not freeze lettuce and drip rusty water all down it’s fronts and it looks like this:

And no.  It didn’t come with any Asian Bitches BUT! it has an ice maker so that’s a pretty good compromise if you ask Crissy because she loves to hear the splinky tinkle sound of ice in her drink almost as much as she likes her lettuce chopped.

So clearly, it’s been a very big weekend and if you’ll excuse Crissy, she’s done talking to you because she’s too good for you now that she’s got all this fancy new stuff and also she’s going to go and get some ice cream and sit her fat ass on her new bed and NOT look at the imprint.

Merry Christmas! Shitter was full.

Anyone who gets that reference wins absolutely nothing.

So you guys remember these people, right?

And there’s a general rule at Crissy’s house that if it’s loud or it smells bad, it’s probably coming from our own little slice of West Virginia.  They’re always shouting, they’re always burning something, they power wash dirtbikes at 8pm every night, and they’re always fixing some old engine that backfires and scares the bejeezus out of Crissy and they’re clearly pretty annoying but the Crissy’s have come to embrace it as free entertainment because they’re not going anywhere even though they were almost foreclosed on a few months ago and Crissy cried bitter tears of sadness was glad for it because no one deserves to lose their home.  They’re nice people, really.  They bring gifts for Girlfriend and Homeslice which is so sweet of them and they’re always very kind and jovial when Crissy talks to them mostly because they’re always drunk but that’s sort of enviable if you ask Crissy.

It’s just that they should live in a barn instead of next door to Crissy.

But like she just said, she’s going to embrace it because of stuff like she saw the other day.  The woman who lives there, we’ll start calling her Maudette, was standing on the roof of her RV (don’t get Crissy started on how nice she thinks it looks in the driveway) with a beer in one hand and a ciggie hanging out of her mouth and Crissy had one hand stirring her pot of dinner and the other on the video camera because seriously?  That’s a  recipe for hilarity if Crissy ever saw one but sadly, she did not fall or do anything funnier than stumble around up there and Crissy never figured out what she was trying to do but it was still nice because Crissy got to laugh and enjoy the show whilst cooking and that is worth the pain in the ass of living next to Maudette, her husband Earl, and all their construction workerish friends.

And so now Crissy is thrilled to death because guess what you guys?

They got a trampoline.

This is gonna be soooo good.  As soon as the rain stops, Crissy is sure Maudette will get her Bud on and get out there to do some jumpin’ and when she does, Crissy will be ready.

Homeslice is crying

Crissy tried to do too many things this morning like laundry, dishes, trash emptying and kitty box cleaning before she wrote for her blog and did her Biggest Loser Cardio workout and now Homeslice is demanding boobage and so Crissy is forced to go and feed Homeslice and choose only one of her two selfish activities to do before Mister goes to work and so she’s choosing her workout over writing to all her loyal Queefies about hilarious encounters with Italian Studs at the grocery store and with Crazy Bat-Shit Ladies in the bathroom at Saver’s but don’t worry.

Crissy will try again tomorrow with her superwoman routine and see if we do better.  She’s just going to have to start getting up at 4am so she can fit it all in.

Hahahahahahahaha!!!!

No way.

But doesn’t Crissy look like an Olson Twin in this picture except instead of carrying a purse full of blow and slim fast she’s holding Homeslice?

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Crissy is going to insist her picture be taken from this angle from now on because if we can do that then maybe she won’t have to do her workouts anymore and she will have more time to write to the Queefies and also she can just eat ice cream every day because that would be awesome.

Rollin’ with the homies

Isn’t Mister the cutest in his new sunglasses?  They’re Rocawear or something like that which Cya informed Crissy is what all The Homies are wearing and Crissy just shops at Target and so she doesn’t know a lot about The Homies but she worries that him wearing these glasses is sort of like walking around wearing a FUBU shirt and looking like a total fucking jackass but he still looks hot even if Jay-Z is totally going to kick his ass for stealing his sunglasses.

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Or maybe Jay-Z will just want to make Sexy Time with Mister cuz he’s totally fuckable but sadly Crissy has no interest in Sexy Time whatsoever and so Mister just follows her around and is all octopussy around her and stuff but Crissy is just like “Get OFF ME!” and stuff so are there

Any volunteers?

He likes it when you smack him in the ass and call him a nasty little slut blow jobs and a little back door action.

Interested parties should fill in the form below.

PS: He’d probably even consider the boys at this point because it’s only skin after all…

The Thunda from Down Unda

So there Crissy was,  minding her own business and doing a little shopping at Kohl’s with Homeslice whilst Girlfriend was at summer camp for the morning, when Homeslice started working herself into a fuss.  She was hungry and Crissy thought that was very, very rude indeed because it was not on the pre-approved, negotiated feeding schedule.

WTF Homeslice?

Anyrudebaby, to shut Homeslice up, Crissy decided to feed her in the dressing room at Kohl’s instead of leaving and going out to the car because it is rather frowned upon to feed a baby in public around here and so Crissy walked through the store just grabbing stuff as she went so it would look like she was really going to try stuff on and not whip out her tits in there because heaven forbid someone expose a tit even in a dressing room.  And while Crissy was in there some other ladies came in and it was very, very, very quiet except of course for the occasional zipper sound and Homeslice’s  super loud SLURP!  SLURP! SLURPING which probably sounded weird and Crissy tried to make her more quiet but that’s totally impossible as it turns out and the ladies must have been wondering what the hell was going on in that handicapped dressing room when it happened.

RRRRRRRRIIIIIIPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!

Homeslice filled her diaper in a rather dramatic and thunderous fashion and it echoed through the dressing room.  Zippers stopped mid-zip, try on projects were aborted and people left the dressing room.

Crissy is not even kidding you.

And poor Crissy was standing there with Homeslice looking very proud of herself with milk dripping off her chin and a nice full diaper.

Crissy did not know what to do.

Should she change the diaper in the dressing room?  Should she go to the ladies room?  Should she just pay for her stuff and get the hell out of the store?

Yes.

Get out of the store because sometimes the smart thing to do is just run away.

And so Crissy and Homeslice ran away but not before paying for the adorable outfit with the bunnies on it.

That was for Homeslice.

Crissy likes things with kitties on it for herself.

The plight of the boobie

So as you Queefies know, Crissy is doing The Breastfeeding and don’t worry.

She’s not going to tell you all about it but suffice it to say that it is not an easy thing to commit to because despite what you might thing about boobies being meant for this sort of thing, the boobies do not agree and if they could form some sort of Boob Union or United Boob Coalition they would totally do it because they work very hard, you know.  They bleed, they turn rock hard, they leak when they see the baby or when the baby cries, they hurt, and they get very, very big and then there’s a baby demanding to suck on them every two hours around the clock and that does not exactly feel good.  There is no escape and no rest for the poor boobies and they don’t even get any play during Sexy Time because they’re strictly for utilitarian purposes.

And if that’s not bad enough, look at the uniform they’re forced to wear:

Nursing bras are just the ugliest, least sexy things ever made unless a person has eleventy million dollars to spend on a pretty designer one but nobody does except perhaps Salma Hayek and so the boobies all wear the ugly ones and feel ugly and gross and pretty much like  dishrags and can’t even wear a cute tank top this summer because the straps on the things are so thick and huge it just looks like the boobies are wearing grandmother’s bra and so Eeww!

Needless to say, the poor boobies get very, very sad indeed.

And so this is why when Crissy got a “Breastfeeding Support” packet from Formula Making People at the hospital and again at her postpartum Taco Doctor visit and then even some in the mail she felt a little bit like poor Charlie Bucket after he found the golden ticket and old Mr. Slugworth kept showing up and whispering at him about doing evil.

Look at all the formula Crissy has from the “Breastfeeding Support” packets!

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Right?

RIGHT?

“Here Crissy, try this.  It’s eeeeeaaaaassssssyyyyy and you’ll be able to wear a pretty bra and you’ll be able to leave Homeslice for more than two hours at a time and you won’t hurt anymore and your shirts will fit you and you can sleep through the night and Mister will be able to touch them and ooooooooo the luxxxxxury…just try it.  Just a little bit.  Homeslice won’t know the difference…just a little something to get you through the night..”

Fucking evildoing formula peoples.

Don’t you worry Queefies.

Crissy is hip to their game and so are her boobies.  They cannot be bought with free diaper bags, sample packets, and rebate offers!

No sir!

Look how happy they make Homeslice:

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And huh.

Crissy just realized that she did tell the Queefies all about her boobies after all but that’s okay because boobies have been suffering in silence for too long and so Crissy is happy to be the Voice of Boobies! or The Boobian Defense League or, um, something.

Quite Possibly the LAMEST Post Ever Written.

Oh wow Queefies!

The sun is out this morning!

Normally this would not be noteworthy but here in New England all the Queefs have been waking up to cold and cloudy skies for about six weeks straight.  It’s been the coldest and rainiest summer on record.

But Crissy hopes it’s all done because the sun has been out for like, two days now and Crissy is feeling a lot less like  running down pedestrians with her car just to cheer herself up.

And you know what she noticed as she came downstairs in the sunlight to write about something totally different this morning?

Crissy noticed that she has a lot of stuff.

Way, way, way too much stuff.

There’s stuff over here and stuff over there and holy shit the stuff is winning.  It’s forming an army right now and it’s getting ready to take Crissy’s house away from her and so the Queen must take action.  The stuff thinks Crissy cannot hear it whispering and planning a takeover when she’s walking by but she can hear it just fine you guys and she’s not gonna let her stuff makes her its bitch.

And so Crissy is saying it in front of all the Queefs so that she has witnesses and she’s going to learn how to sell stuff on Ebay and put stuff on Craigslist and she’s going to throw some stuff out and she’s going to stay the fuck away from the dollar bins at Target and she’s only going to drop stuff off at Saver’s and not buy anything no matter how cool or retro or how much it makes her think of her grandma and  she’s going to have a gigantic yard sale where The Poor and the Dirty Foreign People will come by the carload and try to haggle with her over things that cost 25 cents and she will shout at them to get off her lawn and perhaps hit them a little bit on the face and  jesus christ will somebody shut that baby up?  It’s really hard to be the QOFE when there’s a baby crying upstairs and nobody seems to be doing anything about it, MISTER.

AnyhousefullofshitCrissyneedstogetridofandwillsomebodypleasemakethebabystopcrying, this is quite possibly the lamest post ever written and so Crissy is pretty proud of that and so now she’s  going to take a small bow and then go and put a sock in that crying baby or maybe a boob or whatever but something must be done and will somebody tell Crissy why her neighbor’s son thinks it’s necessary to blast techno out of his car at 8 in the morning?

So yes.

Happy Monday.

Is today Monday?

Crissy doesn’t even know.

Crissy’s New Glasses Came In! Crissy’s New Glasses Came In!

Guess what?

Crissy’s New Glasses Came In!

Let Crissy show you them, Queefies!

These are the Caviar ones for when Crissy is feeling like a fancy pants:
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Then there’s these too because Crissy sometimes feels a little more serious and so she has the Vera Wang ones for those times when she might cut a bitch:
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You can’t keep your hands off Crissy now, can you?