Archive for October, 2010

Just when we thought we were pretty much the classiest bunch of assholes on the Interwebz, we are not, Queefies.

We have been outclassed by this young lady who is clearly a very, very, big fan of mine:

Which one of you guys did that?

WHOSE  FANNY ARE WE LOOKING AT HERE?

I’m touched, really.  I mean, I know you love me, but to express your love and devotion to the QOFE in such a way just…it warms the cockles, really.

I’m overwhelmed.

Thank you, anonymous Queef.

Kisses,

Crissy

PS: Why haven’t any of you other guys done this yet?

DO YOU NOT LOVE ME?  I’m beginning to question your devotion at this point.  Say it loud, say it proud, “I’M A QUEEF!” or at least have it tattooed on your bum.  It’s the least you could do after all the years of entertainment I have provided you.

So I was just sitting on my bed with Homeslice looking at some books and magazines when she picked up the Victoria’s Secret Holiday catalog and pointed to the chick on the cover and said “mommy!”

I did not argue with her even though I’m so much hotter than that chick.

And then she picked up Better Homes and Gardens and pointed to the turkey on the cover and said “daddy!”

Mister, apparently our daughter thinks I’m an underpants model and you are a turkey.

It’s an impromptu Toy with Me day!!!

It’s about all my slutty Halloween costumes.

DRESSING LIKE A SLUT FOR HALLOWEEN

So we’re going to start with the thing that’s bothering me the most and work our way down to the mildly irritating and/or totally stupid.

First up we have Homeslice’s lymph nodes in her little groin area.  The one that was swollen over a month ago is still swollen and now there’s another one right next to it that keeps getting bigger although it’s still smaller than the other one.  And then sometimes they seem to be almost gone, and then sometimes they swell back up again.  I’m hysterical. I think I’m going to bring her back to the doctor because my anxiety disorder is pretty much demanding a blood test at this point even though she’s acting perfectly fine and healthy and has no fever and the swellings don’t hurt her at all and the original one hasn’t gotten any bigger than it was since it first appeared.  But then I think maybe I won’t have her tested because  I’m really scared of the blood test BECAUSE WHAT IF SHE’S REALLY SICK?

I need to know but I’m really afraid to find out.

And I’m giving up on the dog adoption situation.    I had an appointment with a guy last night and he was supposed to bring 2 dogs for us to meet, but then it was just one dog and then he changed the time and THEN HE DIDN’T SHOW UP OR BOTHER TO CALL TO TELL ME HE WASN’T COMING OR ANSWER HIS PHONE.

This is a totally different organization than the other one that blew me off like this FIVE TIMES.  They still haven’t returned my call after blowing me off the fifth time.  It’s been two weeks.

I guess doing this to people and not respecting their time and the fact that adopting a pet is an EMOTIONAL thing and telling someone they will get to meet a potential new family member and then not even having enough respect for them to tell them you need to re-schedule and instead just letting them clear an entire day or a whole weekend and then completely blowing them off like they don’t matter is the way to run a dog rescue.

They’re always whining about how hard it is to be volunteers and that they have lives, you know, and that people need to be patient and blah, blah, blah, WHAT ABOUT ME?  AM I NOT A PERSON TOO?  I also have a life and I’m trying to do the right thing by adopting a homeless animal, but I’m getting treated like shit by these people.

I don’t understand.

I’ve learned a lot about people through this experience and it’s not good news, you guys.  It’s not good news at all.

So, I’m giving up because I can’t deal with the disappointment and heartbreak anymore.

And moving back to Saturday night having gone to bed late after our Zombie Prom, I woke up at 3 in the morning feeling sticky and wet to discover that Alice had thrown up in our bed, under the blankets, and that I had been sleeping in it.  At first I only noticed that I had slid my foot into something, so I checked it out and it was a HUGE pile of super-chunky something.  I didn’t know what the hell it was, so I got out of bed to take a look and determined that it was  some sort of really putrid contents from something (ass? stomach?) and so I limped into the bathroom to wash my foot off and re-group a little bit.

Mister got up to scrape what he determined to be vomit off the bed when I noticed that my back felt cold and wet, too.  I had barf chunks stuck all over my shirt and I had left a trail of them behind me on the way to the bathroom.  I had to take a complete shower and rinse the chunks out of my pajamas while Mister stripped the bed.

It took two trips to get all our bedding down to the basement washing machine, Alice following me the whole way and throwing up more little piles of goodness as we went.

It was…very special.

I never got back to sleep after that, so  I basically got about 3 hours in before all the specialness was discovered.

That was the second night of sleep deprivation because on Friday night, we went to my friend Gina’s annual Halloween party and when we got home, Homeslice was wide awake and hanging out with the babysitter.  She never went back to sleep for more than ten minutes at a time.

That was also a Very Special Evening.

We won best couple’s costume at Gina’s party though, so that was something good riding on the shitwagon that was our weekend.

(huge version here)

Hey Queefies!

Happy Tuesday!

If you ask me, Tuesday is just Monday’s older, whore sister.  Nothing is better on Tuesday.  Nothing at all.  It’s really not that much closer to Friday and so it still blows monkeys.

I do not like.

Wednesday is kind of a douchewagon and Thursday is like, moderately annoying. Friday is okay. We order take-out on Friday. I can deal with Friday.

But despite it being Tuesday, I am actually in a pretty decent mood today.  I am as surprised by this as you are.  I was driving to work and “Beast of Burden” came on the radio and I was suddenly aware that I didn’t want to kill anyone. I think I might really like that song.

It would have been ultra luxurious to have listened to it on non-blown speakers, but we can’t have everything, can we?

So. What else?

I spent a little time working on my Zombie Prom Halloween costume on Sunday. It’s an orange prom dress with a red and orange floofy tulle skirt. I splashed blood all over it and some mud and some chalk-y gray water. It looks like hell. And Mister fixed the garage door wearing a tuxedo he found at Savers. Everyone must think we’re nuts. I had blood spattered clothing hanging on the line to dry, and Mister was walking around like Lurch.

We’re the balls, pretty much.

We’re having a party on Saturday and everyone is coming. We even hired babysitters to run the kid’s party in the porn basement. You can come too, if you want. I’ll be the one across the street hiding under Michele’s bed. You’ll see my bloody orange tulle skirt sticking out because lots of people give me The Anxiety. Even when I know them all.

What are you going to be for Halloween? What are you bringing to my party?

And…

The Wanda dog people blew me off for the fifth time, so I think I’m all done there after 8 weeks of trying to get this one dog. I found a Giant Schnauzer that we might want and we might meet her this weekend if the guy I’m supposed to call for an appointment ever answers his damned phone.

Does anyone have any experience with Giant Schnauzers? My research tells me they’re kind of assholey. I don’t want/need an 80 lb assholey dog. Maybe this is the non-assholey variety of Giant Schnauzer?

We’re thinking of getting a new car! FOR ME!!!!!!! Because I’ve only been asking for one for 8 billionty years. I think we should wait until after Christmas though because a car payment plus Christmas means I’d have to sell an awful lot of panties.

And finally, there’s somebody I’d like you to meet. Some of you might know her as Bat Cave Twidget. She’s been around a little bit here and there and she’s a funny lady. She’s a friend of a friend who I now like more than the original friend (just kidding, Valerie!)

You need to go read her blog because she’s a crazy dog lady, and she’s been helping me figure out my way through the rescue dog thing and also, I kind of made her start a blog and so now I need to bring her some Queefs.

God. Could I BE any more boring today? Seriously. What the hell?

Go read Bat Cave Twidget. The story about her birthdays will make you want to hug her.

Only I make it with garbanzo beans because sausage is yucky. And, I’ve had a loaf of rye bread rising since yesterday so tonight’s dinner, while comprised mostly of cabbage and bread, will be pretty kick ass and Polish-y.  Not to mention that we don’t even have $30 in our bank account right now so even if we wanted to eat something other than cabbage and bread, we couldn’t.  I’m also just now wondering if I have Sauerkraut in the pantry because I’m fucked if we don’t.  I could prolly scrape up enough change from around the house to run out for a can of that, I guess.  Just don’t tell Mister I bought anything, okay?

Being po’ sucks ass, you guys.  We tried to re-finance our house, and as it turns out, we can’t do it because we are upside down because the fuckers who bought the gigantic, gorgeous old house behind us got it for a song and it really hurt our property value. We now owe more than the house is worth.  Last year, we were up $100,000.  Sucks.  But the good news is that we can still pay for our house and if we have to have cabbage soup sometimes at the end of the week on mortgage check week, so be it.  There are worse things.  Like we could be out there pooper scooping and making a lively Shadoobie Stew out of Alice’s ultra processed dog food.  Now THAT’S how to reduce, reuse, recycle, amiright?  And if we get another dog, that’s more food for us!  It’s like money in our pockets!

You’re not hardcore, unless you live hardcore.  I’ve been telling you guys that for years.

Actually, I’m totally informing the next dirty hippie I see that we do that, and also that we fertilize the garden with the contents of my Diva Cup.

I love watching people slowly step away with their hands out in that “I don’t want any trouble, I’m just going to back away quietly” stance.

It’s cute, and it makes them go away.

Did you Queefs know that Mister is 1/2 Polish and I’m 1/4 Polish and so that makes Homeslice and Girlfriend….what?

Polish + some other crap.

Is my math right on that?

I’m not so good with The Math.

What I do know is that at this very moment Homeslice has a handful of Girlfriend’s hair and she (Homeslice) is shrieking like a Howler Monkey because she wants to sit next to me and Girlfriend is in her way. Ironically, Girlfriend, in an attempt at self-defense, is beating Homeslice in the face with the book The Philosophical Baby.

The Polish are a jealous, violent, and shrill people.

On second thought, I’m not sure feeding them the food of their ancestors is such a great idea after all.

So yesterday I was out in front of the house admiring the orange pumpkin lantern Halloween decorations Mister was busy putting up when some Ass Monkey came flying down our street in his Maxima.

And I had Homeslice by the hand and she was struggling to get away and Girlfriend was skipping down the sidewalk and Ass Monkey totally saw us but didn’t slow down in the least, so I yelled “SLOW DOWN” at him and do you know what he said to me?

He said “FUCK YOU!!”

HE DID!!!

The nerve, right?  I mean, here I am, Queen of Fucking Everything walking down the street with the two Princesses of Fucking Everything, and this reject from Planet Douchewagon in his used Maxima (why is it that 20-something year old boys in Maximas think they’re the fucking shit? What is up with that? I means seriously, it’s a fucking Maxima.  Get yourself a Lamborghini and we’ll talk about who’s the shit, okay sweet pea?  Until then, put your fucking baseball cap on straight and get over yourself.) has the balls to yell “FUCK YOU” to me.

Well.

Mon! Dieu!

I’ve got a plan for the next Maxima Ass Monkey who dares try to break the sound barrier on my street.  I’m going to get a big bucket of baby dolls from the dollar store and every time a Maxima Ass Monkey comes by, I’m going to throw the baby doll at him.  Did I mention the baby doll will first be filled with dog crap? It’ll be Tequila’s dog crap too because there’s plenty of that around my house.

I just get really fired up when these young guys (and sometimes girls) speed around with no regard for what could happen.  What if Homeslice managed to wriggle out of my grasp?  What if Girlfriend tripped and fell into the street? He would have creamed her, and I would have had to make it my personal mission to make sure his life was a living hell forever. I’d make sure he wound up in a tiny jail cell with a big huge guy with a large penis and a thing for little Ass Monkeys.

So yes, I am officially the kind of woman who shouts “SLOW DOWN” at young dudes driving by my house.  Any further suggestions for how I can help them make good choices would be welcome in the space provided below.  The police around here don’t care about our speeding problem, so it’s basically Martial Law at this point.

It’s a Toy with Me day!

Check this shit out: My Husband Wants to Have a Threesome! And guess who I have all picked out. It’s someone you all know and love and would gladly fight me for, but you have to go read to find out who it is.

Also, I wrote some words yesterday. You will find them below.

So I’ve been doing Brazil Butt Lift:

Because YES!  I WANT TO LIFT MY BUTT!

And I dare say that Leandro Carvalho has way more feminine energy than my Jillian Michaels.

I mean, he even looks more like a girl than she does:

Sure, she has longer hair and more stubble than Leandro, but do a little Jillianscaping and you’ve got a dude.

Look, they put her in a dress once:

She looked really pretty, but then she was like, “OH MY GOD IT BURNS!! GET IT OFF ME!!! GET ME MY TEE SHIRT!!! IMMEDIATELY!!!”

“Ahhh…that’s so much better.  I feel like myself again.”

Have you tried her yoga DVD by the way?

Every time I play it, it rains. That’s how I know that Jillian Michaels doing yoga makes God cry.

Actually, that’s not true. It makes him want to wear a lady’s wig and eat birthday cake.

I kid, I kid. I love my Jillian but yoga is not her forte and neither is being feminine and dancy and sometimes, I just want to be feminine and dancy, and not all butch and diesel.

That’s why I’m really into this Leandro fellow. Not only is the Brazil Butt Lift really fun to do, (particularly the Cardio Axe, which is pronounced Cardio Ash-ay, btw) but it makes me laugh every time he does his “samba tornado” because he’s such a girl. A big, Brazilian girl with stubble and pit hair and a wicked firm ass. And he’s all like “give it to me, Mary!” and “Have fun…show your booty…your bum bum! Don’t be afraid to show what you got!” in his adorable accent.

The only problem is that I am so, so, so not coordinated in the booty shaking, hip gyrating area, and so I look like I’m convulsing more than Brazil Butt Lifting, but I’ve decided it’s all good because I’m having fun. Actually, it’s a lot like when Jillian does yoga. She’s clearly aware that what she’s doing is a total abomination, but she’s not going to apologize for it and neither am I.

If my new Latino neighbors happen to see me through the window, trying my little white girl heart out to do the Lambada moves, and they wind up pointing and laughing and running inside because it’s raining again, so be it.

I, Queefies, will not care because my ass is gonna be spectacular and they can just get an umbrella and shut the fuck up.

Ladies and Gentlequeefs, I present to you, True Mud

(only people who are obsessed with True Blood will enjoy this. The rest of you can go back to watching Antiques Roadshow or whatever the fuck you watch instead of The Most Awesomest Show Ever).

I lol’ed when Bill walked in superfast! And did you catch Lafayette and Andy and I swear the cow is Tara. Right? Because poor Tara is a cow. I laugh every time Tara has something fucked up happen and her lip quivers. Like, how funny was it when she was trying to escape from Russel Edgington’s house and the werewolf got her? Ugh! Good stuff.

Anyway, Monday sucks. I’m going to try to come back later and write more words on the Internet to entertain you and make your Monday less suicidal.