Crissy is back, and there’s gonna be some changes up in this hizouse (sorry, there’s still an urban black man living in here) because Crissy is having a Madonna moment, and she’s feeling sorta stale and she needs to re-invent herself just a little bit.
That’s how wicked important celebrities like Crissy make sure their names stay in the headlines, either that or they get caught drunk driving or smacking their bitch up, but you wouldn’t know anything about it because you’re not as big a celebrity as Crissy.
Hottest Mommy Blogger is a very big deal, you know.
It’s not to be trifled with, Queefies. Not to mention the awesome responsibility of being Queen of Fucking Everything.
It’s bigger than space elevators and…other big things.
(Crissy doesn’t even know what space elevators are, she just wants to sound wicked smot.)
And the first change you’ll notice around here is that Crissy’s not going to talk in the third person anymore because you know what she realized?
I just can’t tell stories about myself anymore.
It’s boring me to death. It’s not good when even you are over yourself.
My hat is off to bossy. She’s been doing it for ages!
The next Wicked Important Change on the agenda is that somehow, I’m going to add a Daily Style section, sort of like what people tell Crissy Doosh does, only Crissy’s won’t be lame and boring. It’s going to be so fucking badass and full of awesome you’re gonna want to stab yourself in the throat and set your hair on fire for not thinking of it first, so watch for it. It’s coming to get you.
(Did I already slip back into the third person right there? Clearly, this is going to be an adjustment for all of us.)
So yes. Those are the announcements for today. And forever, I suppose.
I’d love to stay here and tell you all about our Halloweenie, but I can’t. I have to mentally prepare for today because Girlfriend and I have appointments at the dentist and we’ll be taking Homeslice with us. So, somehow, I’m supposed to get my teeth cleaned and have Girlfriend on my lap whilst she gets hers cleaned because of course, that’s the only way she’ll allow them to touch her, ALL THE WHILE keeping Homeslice occupied.
And the appointments are at the time when Homeslice gets hungry and freaks the frack out and would you want to deny this kid food?
I don’t think so. Homeslice gots the gangsta in ah. She da boss, yo. She da boss.
(I slipped in a Halloweenie picture after all! Because I fucking rule and don’t you forget it, bitch.)
So, do I whip it out at the dentist, or do I bring a bottle and pray I don’t soak the hygienist with boob leakage? I have to make a decision on that sometime before 10. It will take all of my mental energy.
I’m having a martini for breakfast, y’all.
It’s the only way to survive this without hijacking the dentist instruments and drilling my brain out.