The road back from Emoland

Oh WOW! Crissy feels so much better today, Queefies! Thank you so much for being the most wonderful Queefies in all the world! It means so much to Crissy that you love her and you know she loves you too! We’re family. Crissy is going to take the rest of the week off to recover from all her ailments, both mental and physical, but you can go over to Toy With Me today if you want. Crissy is talking about the kink she’s got goin’ on. Rawwwwrrrrr…or something.

my wife is…

hey folks, it’s the pimp.

it’s not often i poke my head in here, mostly because crissy does such an excellent job.  to be honest i don’t know how she comes up with half of what she comes up with, day after day, week after week, month after month.

i wouldn’t blame her if she totally burned out and walked away from blogging once and for all.  i’d be sad, because i actually DO like reading her work, and i especially enjoy the comments, but i would understand.

before anyone gets upset–THAT IS NOT HAPPENING. at least as far as i know!

what IS happening though is she’s getting run down. she’s getting frustrated. not by anything to do with any of you fine queefs, or this blog even. she’s getting frustrated by her LIFE. in particular, her life as a mommy.

how can you NOT be frustrated by it? i mean, there’s a REASON why so many “professionals” have eschewed having kids–they fucking SUCK! they’re a tremendous drain on resources: time, money, affection, laundry detergent, diapers, paper towels. everything is a goddamned PRODUCTION– hell, even going to the store for a 6 pack of beer takes planning and provisions… and this is coming from the lackadaisical parent.

you all already knew that, and this is hardly news.

i got off the phone a few minutes ago and my dear wife told me that she felt like a loser because she couldn’t make a blog post today. i said, maybe you should post about that? she said, “i don’t even have time to do that!” and she told me how she had a blowout with girlfriend while dropping her off at school because GF insisted on a package of string cheese right as they were walking out the door, and then once that was done, had to go right over to target to pick up some supplies, and how the front hall closet smells like ass because one of the teachers at the preschool stashed girlfriend’s unfinished milk container in an odd pocket of the backpack, which slowly leaked rotten milk over the last 5 days, and how she’d been puked on multiple times already today…

i just about started crying myself.

(well not really because i’m wicked tough, but if i was more emo i would have.)

it was at that moment when i thought to myself, “i’ll post SOMETHING on her blog today,” just to keep things moving, and a dialog open. i wanted to tell the people who comment to my wife, “i don’t know how you do it all,” that sometimes she CAN’T do it all. and it’s all fucking right. life goes on. we tend to the things we must, and we circle the wagons, and we lick our wounds, and every once in a while you jump up out of bed feeling brand new and ready to toss a cumshot on the face of the world.

the thing is, those days just don’t come when you’re having a period, letting a baby hang off your nipples every 3 hours, fighting off a flu shot, trying to clean up DIY cheese from the folds and pockets of a hello kitty backpack, waiting for your husband to come home from work so YOU can go to work until 8pm.

in fact, under those circumstances, those days might as well never exist in the first place.

under those circumstances you can’t muster a jovial face and tell your bloggy friends how funny it is, because it’s not fucking funny. and of course you reflect all the shit inside, and you get embarrassed, and you wonder if you’re cut out for this–for ANY of this–because it’s such a battle, and it doesn’t let up for a moment, and it grinds you down until there’s nothing left.

before this turns into even more of an unreadibly long and dire post, i have to say this: she gets so much back from you guys, and i think that’s the part that she feels worst about–that somehow she’s letting the queefs down. so tell her how you feel because hell, i’m her husband, and she knows i’m gonna say nice things anyway so it doesn’t really count.

plus i’m a cross-dressing dickhead who seizes command of other people blogs, so WTF do i know?

Crissy partied all weekend and now you have to look at pictures of strangers at parties you didn’t go to for the next two days. YES!!!!!

Here is Crissy in her tutu.


She had to distract Mister with a bottle of nail polish for his nails so she could put it on.  He was sobbing on the floor in the fetal position, clutching the tutu.  Crissy had to do something to get it away from him.

Here he is in his Goth Boy outfit:


Crissy thinks he enjoyed putting on lipstick and eyeliner a little too much, and you can’t tell in this picture, but his nails came out really pretty.

Here is a picture of the party at Crissy’s friend Gina’s ad agency.


And here is Gina who Crissy has known since elementary school:


Crissy hadn’t seen her in eleventy million years and she looks prettier than your friend Gina.

(This is fascinating isn’t it?)

This costume has to be the best thing Crissy has ever seen, but it was also scarier than a hockey mask and a chain saw  because when Crissy was just a wee little Crissy, she was terrified of these things on Sesame Street. And when they walked in, Crissy sort of grabbed the Wonder Woman she was talking to and hid behind her a little bit.



Scary. Mother. Fuckers.

Wonder Woman could totally kick a yip yip’s ass, right?  Crissy needs to know just in case she ever finds herself in this situation again.

Thank God Crissy didn’t see any clowns there because she would have been out of there but then she remembered there was wine and so she did that instead of running away.

Crissy also bumped into another friend from elementary school (actually TWO other friends from elementary school but she doesn’t have a picture of  the other one) because Rhode Islanders DO NOT LEAVE THE STATE. EVER:


And Crissy isn’t afraid to tell the Queefs that she felt like a little bit of a loser because here’s Gina who is prettier than all other Ginas and owns an Ad Agency, and here’s Amy who is also pretty with a cute haircut and is a lawyer, and here’s Crissy who is super pretty but has done nothing since Grad school and when asked what she is up to now, Crissy babbled some nonsense about her blog and Hottest Mommy Blogger and being Queen of Fucking Everything and no, not Queen of Fucking Everything and then she spilled wine on her tutu.

Multiple times.

Very. Impressive. Crissy.

Almost as impressive as Crissy’s betutued ass going up the stairs to Gina’s studio.


Or Crissy’s chestical area at the dessert table:


Actually, Crissy’s tits were probably the most impressive thing about her, either that or it was the tutu, and next time she goes to a party and accidentally stumbles into an elementary school reunion, she’s just going to point to her tits and say absolutely nothing because that would have been better.

Crissy shouldn’t be allowed out in public, obviously.

Crissy: Drowing in her own good intentions

So Crissy has a guest blogger for you today, Queefies!

Aren’t you so excited you could pee?

And the reason for that is that Crissy is in way over her head with crap to do.  It turns out that Crissy is not very bright and she offered to have a Halloween party for Girlfriend and her little friends and all the parents and so there are approximately fifteen to one hundred millionty people coming to Crissy’s house on Saturday for a shindig, and Crissy has to pretty much do the whole thing herself PLUS care for Homeslice and Girlfriend because Mister is working. AND! It’s Crissy’s mom’s birthday that day and so she’s having a birthday party for her in the morning. AND! She scheduled a flu shot for Girlfriend on Saturday,too. AND! All this is AFTER Crissy and Mister go to a fabulous Halloween party thrown by a very impressive PR firm on Friday night, and so Crissy will do it all hungover and sleep deprived. Crissy is considering just staying drunk and powering through until Sunday.

It seems like the best option at this point.

Soooooo, Crissy is pretty much in ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodwhatthefuck mode.

Crissy is a dumbass.


Crissy is a badass. She hasn’t decided yet. 
Maybe Crissy will just go with badass.  It’s more self-affirming…we can probably all agree that Crissy is some kind of an ass. Or she has a hot ass or look at Crissy’s ass or Crissy’s a piece of ass or kiss Crissy’s ass or Crissy’s ass is grass or something ass-y.

Anyway, since it’s almost Halloween and stuff, Crissy has obtained a GHOST GUEST BLOGGER!

So here he is, DUDLEY MOORE!

Was that not the best 58 or so seconds of your day today?

You’re welcome, Queefies. Happy weekend! Crissy will be back on Monday (if her head doesn’t explode).

Jenny McCarthy will rue the day she laughs at Crissy’s low knee situation!

You know what Crissy’s boss showed her last night and now Crissy is dying to try it?

It’s THIS!

It looks pretty awesome if you ask Crissy and if you didn’t ask her you’ve been meaning to.  Crissy feels sort of guilty (Crissy feels sort of guilty about lots of things, like being so much better than everyone it’s part of her gift) that she doesn’t use her Wii Fit, but that’s mostly because it’s stupid.

What is all the fuckery with unlocking workouts?  If Crissy is going to do a workout, she’s going all in, full out, tits to the wall and she doesn’t have time for unlocking shit, you know?  Wii Fit just frustrates Crissy and Crissy is full up with things that frustrate her, thank you.  Crissy is in a constant state of frustration and chaos and if you could hear inside of Crissy’s head it would sound EXACTLY like this:


And maybe even worse than that, probably.  That was kind of lame.

So her blog is a fucking nightmare.  It used to be pretty much the best thing since like, anything awesome, but now?  Meh.

Crissy knows, Queefies.

Babies are a lot of work.

But Crissy is excited about this new Wii thing because it looks like it will maybe even be fun because it has Jenny McCarthy in it and Crissy likes her.  Crissy is a little worried about this body scanning thing though because she feels like her Wii Fit judges her. Like when Crissy would miss a workout, it noticed and gave her a rash of shit about it.  Crissy is hard enough on herself, Wii.  That’s also one of her gifts, so she doesn’t need you to tell her she missed a workout.  She knows already so don’t make Crissy unplug you and feed you to her Liger:


Just kidding.  Big Pussy isn’t really a Liger. But he wants to be and that’s the point Crissy is trying to make.

So when the Wii Your Shape thing scans Crissy’s body, will it say mean stuff to her about her assical area and Oh! My god do you think it will notice her low knee situation?

There’s only one way to find out if the Wii Your Shape thing is stupid or not, Queefies.

Somebody needs to send Crissy one.

Reason number 876 for thinking Mister somehow caught The Gay.

Here he is trying on Crissy’s Gothic Lolita Halloween costume skirt which HE made after HE came up with the idea and went to the fabric store and bought all the stuff for it.  After he saw how much fun Crissy was having in it, he rolled up and bitch slapped her and took the skirt away! And he was all, “bitch, that’s my tutu!  You get your own!”




PS:He purchased his very own pair of skinny jeans so he won’t be borrowing Crissy’s anymore. There were fights, it wasn’t cute.

PPS: It’s time to go and vote for Crissy in the Blogger’s Choice Awards because it ends really soon and if Crissy loses she will blame you assholes.  Don’t get mad.  There are a lot of people who read Crissy’s blog and some of you are bound to be assholes.  It’s called statistics, Queefies, so don’t get mad at Crissy. Get mad at math and your parents for making you assholes.  And Crissy’s not talking about YOU lovely Queefs who voted for her and who will now get sluts and/or chocolates in heaven.  She’s talking about the people who come here every day and DO NOTHING.


and then get all your asshole friends to do it too.

PPPS: YES WE CAN! Obama said Crissy could use that for her campaign. (Crissy had to look up how to spell campaign) (Shut up.)

PPPPS: Since Mister is gay now, Crissy is looking for a new boyfriend.  Eligible candidates must be willing to get Crissy a new car and also turn the fucking heat on in Crissy’s house because it’s 53 degrees in Crissy’s bedroom and Homeslice is gonna turn into a frozen novelty baby treat.

PPPPPS: Crissy is sorry she called you assholes, assholes, but you kind of deserve it.

PPPPPPS: Crissy forgot to say (because Crissy is kind of an asshole) to VOTE FOR MISTER TOO!!! That way, Crissy and Mister can be a power couple, and as such will be pretty fucking unstoppable.  So what if Mister is having relations with his secret boyfriend?  Isn’t that what power couples do anyway?

This post is about Lynne not buying candles and why Girlfriend will grow up to be illiterate because of it.

Conversation with Lynne about Girlfriend’s school fundraiser:

Lynne: How was your weekend?

Crissy: Fine. You have to buy a candle from my kid’s school fundraiser so she can learn how to write with like, real paper and pencils instead of scratching letters into the carpet with her fingernails.

Lynne: I’ll buy a fucking candle; I’m not buying from anyone else so consider yourself privileged.

Crissy: Thanks for buying a fucking candle.  My kid won’t be illiterate now because of your generous candle buying.

Lynne: Where are said candles?

Crissy: Catalog on break room table.

Lynne: Oh ok.  I shall purchase one tomorrow.  If it stinks, your ass is grass.

Crissy: If the candles stink, I’m giving it to you as a Secret Santa gift. You better hope I don’t pick you this year because that’s what you’re getting. If my kid grows up to be illiterate, it’s your fault.

Lynne: I said I’d buy one.  I’m even going to get a $15 one so shut off.

Crissy: You’re only buying ONE? I’m beginning to question your level of devotion to me.

Lynne: I have candles coming out my eyeballs at home.  I have a kid in college, man.  Cut me some slack.

Crissy: Fine.

Lynne: If I buy two I won’t be able to pay my mortgage; do you want that on your conscience?

Crissy: I don’t care about your problems.

Lynne: I thought not.

Crissy: I just looked at an entry in the catalog that said Depression Pottery and I thought “Who makes pottery when they’re depressed?” and then I realized it meant Depression ERA Pottery. I think I may be the victim of zombification, which, as you know is a real problem at this time of year.

Lynne: Depression Pottery; you make it then you break it and slit your wrists with it.

Crissy: Depression Pottery: Healthier than Vodka Sodas.

Crissy would tell you more about what happened after that, but it’s too much.  There’s a lot that goes on at the library, obviously.  And since nobody is probably going to comment on this because what is there to comment on, really, Crissy will include Lynne’s suggestion for Mister’s Halloween costume which took Crissy forever to find this morning, but when she doesn’t want to find it, it comes up by accident like in front of Girlfriend who saw it and said “hahahahaha!  She’s kissing a PENIS!” and it made Crissy want to die a little bit:

There’s nothing like a precocious four-year-old to put Crissy’s rather impressive screen minimizing skills to the test, Queefies.  Come to think of it, maybe Crissy doesn’t want Girlfriend to learn how to read.  Around here, that would probably be a very bad thing.