Oh wow Queefies!

You guys are awesome and Crissy had a very hard time deciding who wrote the best set of captions and she really couldn’t pick just one because they were all so very wonderful and so she chose one Winner and one Almost Winner for each picture instead because everyone did such a nice job and if she could bestow a gift upon all the Queefs she would, really, but Crissy isn’t made of monies and so no.  The Winners get a prize and the Almost Winners get the notoriety and fame that comes with being mentioned by the QOFE on her blog.

So here were Crissy’s favorites:

MsDarkstar : Crissy witnesses another Maidlaundressnannywhore FAIL at the whole “wet nurse” requirement.


Almost winner:  Rhz-  “OMFG. I can NOT believe Mister just told my parents about my excursion at Target for his ‘raincoat’ and now they want to see it so they can get him matching boots.”

Svaha: hmmm? Perhaps there haven’t been any hits on the Craigslist ad for a Maidlaundressnannywhore because the default picture comes off as a little ‘needy


Almost Winner: pmac- Hey, it’s either sexy time or cleaning time… you choose!

RHz: “You see this, Mom? This is what I think about sharing.”


Almost Winner: Helen- Learned something new today!

Trooper Thorn: Years afterwards, Plantro would agree with The Shut-In that this had been the best party the League of Nerdy Superheroes ever had. But the truth was, he had been too drunk to remember anything.

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Almost Winner: Tess- PARTY ASSHOLE

Stoogie: Unfortunately for Crissy and her Queefs, the sunbather to their right chose the precise moment they snapped a peaceful family picture to try on his blue erection Speedos.


Almost Winner: Trooper ThornNo one would think back to the happy photograph at the beach when Wally took a huge dump on the living room floor after everyone had gone to bed.

Shelly: Oh, Christ. Call the Chiropractor!


Almost Winner: Stoogie-For no reason whatsoever, Crissy was asked to leave the department store’s Jacuzzi section only moments later.

And you’re all wondering what marvelous prize is in store for you and so here:

You’re all getting a wonderful vanilla scented Dick Soap.  Crissy expects you to save it and put it in your bathroom for when your mom comes to visit.

Moms love Dick Soap.

Congratulations to the Winners and the Almost Winners and also to everyone else who actually had enough time on their hands to participate in Crissy’s stupid crap.


* The Winner Queefs need to email Crissy (crissy@crissyspage.com) and give her your mailing address so she can send you your Fabulous Prize. And no.  Crissy will not show up on your doorstep.  Crissy is the stalkee, not the stalker.

Okay Queefies.  Here’s the deal.  Crissy has no ideas for a post this morning and she can’t even think of one because Homeslice is being really emo and crap and she has a fist full of Crissy’s hair and she’s kicking Crissy’s arm whilst she nurses and Crissy tries to type and Girlfriend won’t stop talking to her about what’s happening on Sesame Street right now and she keeps going “look! look! MOMMY LOOK!” or she keeps putting her face between Crissy and the computer and going “ma-na-ma-na-do-do-do-do-do” so Crissy needs the Queefs to tell her what’s happening in these pictures because it’s Crissy against the children and the children are winning.

So, go be a Royal Queef and tell Crissy a story about her pictures and because Crissy knows people just don’t do things unless there’s something in it for them, she thinks she might bestow a gift upon the Queef with the most interesting captions  and the nature of that gift will be a surprise! mostly because Crissy hasn’t come up with something yet.

So, GO!








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***Crissy thinks she will give you guys until Sunday night to think of stuff and if  you already posted and think of something better, come on back and share it!

That’s what we’re always telling Girlfriend when she plays with her friends and the other day Alena came to Crissy and said “sharing is caring, right Crissy?” and Crissy said “it is” and Alena said “Girlfriend won’t share with me!” and so Crissy had to again remind Girlfriend that “sharing is caring and if you can’t share with Alena, you aren’t being a good friend” and she’s sick to death of hearing it but whatever.

We have to share. It’s just one of those kick you in the crotch and spit down your neck realities of life.

But you know what, Queefies?

Sharing is a cuntcheese.

Please don’t tell Girlfriend Crissy said that. Especially don’t tell her the cuntcheese part.

Can you imagine at school?

“I won’t share!  Sharing is a cuntcheese!”



Crissy hates sharing and its not that she minds sharing everything. Crissy doesn’t mind sharing her bag of cough drops or her tissues or surplus tomatoes from her garden or her bag of cheeba of Reese’s Whipps (which suck, btw. Don’t waste your money) Crissy sort of enjoys sharing those things.

What Crissy does not enjoy is sharing things like a car.  Last week Mister’s car was broken and so Crissy and Mister had to share Crissy’s car until the pieces came in to fix his car and holy crap was that a pain in the fanny and Crissy plans to use this as an argument for the new car because nobody was happy with that sharing a car bullshit and everyone knows new cars don’t break and they don’t need inspection stickers all the time either and Crissy’s car won’t pass because the clock is broken and the Inspector Man will probably take Sasha away and throw her in the trash can and so that’s why Crissy needs a new one.
So she won’t have to share.
Anyways, the reason why Crissy is thinking about all of this is because she got into her car and everything was totally fucked. All the mirrors showed Crissy the sky or the ceiling of the car.  The seat position was totally wrong and Crissy thinks Mister even left his ass print on it and it made it feel bad to Crissy’s sensitive and discerning tushie and Crissy is still trying to de-fuck the car by making little adjustments here and there and it may never get there, Queefs. It may just be fucked forever. It may always feel like somebody else has been using it.

Another reason why Crissy should have a new one.

Mister got Cooties on it.

Nobody likes Cooties on their car.

Broken clock + Ass indentation + Cooties = undrivable.

And you know what else he has his cooties on?  The computer.  Crissy and Mister share a lap top computer and it’s ALWAYS logged in as him. Crissy can log him out a hundred times a day and it still just wants him and Crissy is tempted to rip it’s mouse out and beat it about the keypad and shout “who’s the boss now, bitch?” and some day she will and maybe even give it  The TONY DANZA. And it’s on its last legs too, you know.  It has no sound.  Try for one second to imagine how bad it would suck if your computer had no sound.

Crissy will wait…


You want to kill yourself right now, don’t you?

Well imagine that being your life PLUS you have to share that piece of shit with somebody else who puts cooties on it.

He brings it into the BATHROOM!!!!

Crissy should have her own computer, clearly, and Mister is going to remind her that there’s a computer in the basement right near the cat box but don’t be fooled Queefies! That one is broken too!!!  AND it has CAT COOTIES on it.  He looks at kitty porn on it and Crissy is certain of that because one day she found this on the desktop:

For shame, Big Pussy.  For shame.

As you can plainly see, there is no end to the hardships Crissy is forced to endure, Queefies. It’s okay for you to weep for Crissy. Crissy weeps for herself every day. And then after that she masturbates a little bit because it comforts her and it takes some of the hurt and the bitterness away if for only just a little while…

Or, well, less rich if you’re Crissy and you ‘re back at work and you’re feeling like a very fancy lady because you have a j-o-b and p-a-y-c-h-e-c-k after many weeks of being utterly financially destitute and before anyone says “but Crissy!  You bought a fancy new refrigerator and a super-duper mattress this summer.  Surely you couldn’t have been too poor!”  Crissy will tell you that those were birthday gifts from her Fairy Stepmother and really Crissy and Mister were very, very po’ all summer long.

In fact, the only time they went out together was on Crissy’s birthday.  That’s the last time Crissy has had restaurant food that didn’t come in a paper wrapper.



And Crissy didn’t buy any new anythings all summer and so now she’s just going bullshit with the bank card and Mister is sort of being cool about it– that is until he sees what she did last night at Old Navy.

But she got matching little skirts for the babies because how fucking cute is that?!

They needed the skirts and all the other stuff or else they’ll have naked little bums and that’s not good!


Crissy may be shoving those condoms she bought the other day firmly up her ass as Mister will not want to make any Sexy Time with a spendthrift like Crissy.  OR more likely is that Mister will be shoving his becondomed wenis up Crissy’s bum in an effort to recoup the damage she did to his credit card(s).

Actually, he won’t need the condom if he’s shoving his wenis up Crissy’s bum, will he?

But Mister should be nice to Crissy and not give her his dull speech about mortgage payments because she finally stopped with the wanting the new car thing (for the next fifteen minutes anyways) and she’s saving hundreds of thousands of dollars in formula (yes, Homeslice eats that much, you should see her!) by doing The Breastfeeding and also The Breastpumping while standing up in the men’s staff bathroom instead of eating during her dinner break so she says if  Mister has a problem with her spending he should should pour himself a nice big glass of shuthefuckuporCrissywillstopbreastfeedingandthenwe’llreallybepoor.

Also, Crissy might have an exciting new job and she will not tell the Queefs about it just in case it doesn’t happen, but it will mean tens more dollars just flying right into Crissy’s pocketbook and that will indeed make Crissy a very fancy lady.

Perhaps Crissy will even get this because a fancy lady needs a fancy purse for all the fancy money she will have:

Do you not just want to take this purse out for dinner and then take it home and lick it all up and down, Queefies?

Crissy does.

Happy Monday Queefies!!!

You know what Crissy did this weekend?

Wicked exciting stuff.

Crissy went condom shopping!

While Mister is waiting to find a good snippy doctor, Crissy would still like to do Sexy Time with him and so she took matters into her own hands and decided it might be a good idea to go and find some interim birth control and so she loaded Homeslice and Girlfriend into the car and headed to Target. And it was a little stupid of Crissy the way she failed to plan this purchase because just one day prior she got to go to Target all by herself and spent $150 on bullshit and it didn’t occur to her to get the condoms then when they could have been camouflaged amongst all the other stuff.

But no.

Crissy went into Target for the sole purpose of buying condoms. And she had the kids with her this time. And she lured Girlfriend into the store with the promise of shoe shopping and Girlfriend was pissed off at Crissy when she insisted on making a little stop in the “family planning” department first and so she lagged behind Crissy shouting “I hate you. I hate what you’re saying to me! I’m going to throw you in the trash can!” and thank God Homeslice was sleeping in her stroller because had she been crying, Crissy would have just asked the pharmacist for a rusty spoon so Crissy could gouge out her ovaries right there in front of the ovulation kits. But she was sleeping peacefully despite her big sister’s Diva Moment so that was good and do you Queefs know how hard it is to concentrate with that shit going on?

And Crissy got a little dizzy looking at all the choices because she hasn’t had to think about them for 14 years now and so what the hell does Crissy know about condoms? Nothing. Back in her slutty, pre-Mister days, there weren’t so many choices, but now there’s like a hundred different ones!  So here’s your poor Crissy standing in front of the condoms with Girlfriend drawing everyone’s attention to her and she’s wondering if she should call Mister because do condoms come in different sizes?

Crissy has no idea.

What kind does Mister prefer?

Crissy does not know.

And so Crissy just grabbed the silver box and ran away because everyone was staring at her. Crissy was mortified, Queefies. MORTIFIED.

She even considered stealing the condoms so she wouldn’t have to endure the checkout cashier, but she decided against it because setting off the alarm at the door and getting caught stealing condoms by trying to smuggle them out of the store in the folds of the baby stroller canopy would be worse. Probably. Crissy is just guessing. So she paid for the condoms and went home and tossed them on the counter in front of Mister and said “I bought these but I don’t know what kind you like best.” And Mister looked at Crissy and was like “I’ve been fucking you for 14 years. What the hell do I know about condoms?”

So there you have it, Queefs.

Crissy and Mister know nothing about condoms.

What’s your favorite kind so Crissy doesn’t have to go through all that again?

Do tell.