So wow.

Yes.

Crissy had such a very, very bizzy weekend and she knows you were all so sad yesterday when you came to visit Crissy and saw that she had nothing to tell you but it wasn’t true it was just that she had other stuff to do because the Queen is a very, very important lady with many other things to attend to you know and so stop being so needy.

Because shit you guys.

So at some point during the weekend Mister’s childhood bestie who lives far away did not come over with his family and Crissy did not take this picture of the obviously virile studs and all their offspring.

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It appears that Homeslice is checking out her future husband’s junk.  Crissy didn’t have the heart to tell her that it’s mostly just diaper bulge at this point and that she shouldn’t get too excited.  Save that surprise for the wedding night.

Also on the 4th, Crissy and Mister and Girlfriend and Homeslice did not go to a 4th a of July shindig hosted by Crissy’s dad, Papa, and her step-mom and Crissy’s step-mom did not overdose on Ambien accidentally on purpose and then stay awake hallucinating the whole time.  She did not tell Crissy that she needed to send a thank you note to the fishermen who gave her the best hooks and the best spot on the boat because she’s John Urban’s great-granddaughter and they don’t do that for just anyone, you know.  Crissy doesn’t even know who the hell John Urban is and she’s pretty sure her step-mom doesn’t either.  She also did not ask Crissy how she liked her flounder trimmed and she did not go around pouring people’s beer into her “water bottle” when she thought no one was looking.

She did not.

And Crissy’s dad was not so far up Crissy’s brother’s ass that she swears it looked like her brother had two heads and Crissy’s brother did not take Mister for a death ride in his Dune Buggy with a six five pack of Narragansett right there on the floor

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for the occifers to find when they got pulled over for STANDING UP WHILE DRIVING DOWN CHAPEL STREET

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Crissy is no expert driver or anything but she knows you’re not supposta drive while standing up and call her a goody goody but “don’t die” is sort of Crissy’s motto and so she shouted “he has TWO CHILDREN BILLY!” at her brother before they did not go on a ride.

And then on Sunday it was Alena’s birthday and so the Crissys didn’t do that either and they had a wonderful time not doing it and Michele did not whip out her boobies

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but she did play the bongos for us.

Or did she?

No. She didn’t.

OR DID SHE???

That’s Crissy’s house behind her.

Or is it?

Yes. It’s not.

OR IS IT???

And while at the party Crissy did not eat three pieces of chocolate cake, a half pound of Doritos, 1/2 pint of Ben and Jerry’s Cookie Dough ice cream, Fritos, pie, 3 beers and a gigantor glass of wine as big as Crissy’s head, and about 9 tablespoons of extra creamy whipped cream which she did not smear all over her face in ecstasy which didn’t make Michele laugh.

She did not.

OR DID SHE???

Guess what you guys?

It’s gonna fuckin’ rain today!

SURPRISE!

There are only so many coloring projects Girlfriend can do and there are only so many closets Crissy can clean out and so the sun needs to make an appearance or else there’s gonna be trouble up in this bitch.

Seriously.

So yesterday the adorable and very loyal Queef Marie, inquired about Frank and Crissy thinks she’s psychic because Crissy had planned on writing about Frank today because he’s really done it this time, you guys.

Did Crissy mention that she planted all her garden stuff from seed back in March because Crissy doesn’t fuck around with no tomatoes from the Home Depot.  She makes her own tomatoes and shit.

Crissy is hardcore.

And Crissy is about to get a little bit more hardcore because Frank the Woodland Douchebag Asshole has eaten his last motherfucking flower.  Remember how last year he ate Crissy’s zinnias and some other stuff that she planted from her Papa’s generations old seeds?  And remember how he waited until they bloomed to eat them?

You do?

You guys hang on Crissy’s every word, don’t you?

Well last year Crissy and Mister were driving through Newport when Crissy saw the most gorgeous orange poppies

and Crissy fell in love with them and she said that she wanted to try planting them this year and so she did and you know where this is going don’t you?

FUCKING FRANK.

He waited until they bloomed and then he destroyed every last one of them.  Crissy planted an entire section of her garden with poppies and now there’s nothing left and she would have taken a picture of the devastation but she was so sad and weepy that she just ripped out the dead stems before she could get a photo.  It’s just as well because the photo would have been crummy because Crissy could barely see through her tears to take a picture.  It happened a week ago but Crissy is still bitter and maybe a little bit obsessed about it and Mister is tired of hearing her say “my poppies! That asshole!” just out of nowhere at random times throughout the day.

It’s like Frank is tapped into some sort of psychic thread into Crissy’s brain and he knows what Crissy’s favorite is and he just goes for that because the poppies are the only thing he touched.

Well, he did take a nibble of the mint but that’s probably because poppies give woodchucks The Halitosis.

Everyone knows that.

But he’s Satan’s Woodland Creature, Queefs.

And remember how Crissy’s Papa advised her to get all gangsta on Frank and shoot the motherfucker and Crissy is paraphrasing a little bit here but she thinks Papa’s exact words were “just get your shotgun out and shoot him.  That’s what I do, and then I run like heck into the house because I don’t want the policeman to catch me.”

Isn’t Papa just adorable?

And remember how Crissy was all ” I can’t shoot Frank!  That’s not humane!

Not. Any. More.

There’s gonna be bloodshed the likes of which will make the Janjaweed look like a bunch of little pussies.