You know what Crissy hates?

Crissy hates it when she’s awake at 3:00 am being a Nervous Nelly, a Doubting Thomas, a Debbie Downer, a Worry Wart (Crissy hates that expression. It’s gross.) and she has to lay there listening to her bedmates, Mister, Alice and Big Pussy, just doing nighty nights without a care in the world.

And Alice is all “snork, snork, oink!”

And Big Pussy is all “puuuuuuuurrrrrrrr, puuuuuuuuurrrrrr, puuuuuuuuuurrrrrrr.”

And Mister is all “Hooonnnnkkkkkkkkkkkkk.”

And it makes Crissy feel just a little bitter and resentful and homicidal because they’re sleeping and she’s up worrying about Aliens and anal probing and writing ridiculous blog posts in her head exactly like this one and things like that and they’re not and she is very, very tempted to be like

“OH MY GOD!!! FIRE! FIRE!!! WAKE! UP!”

And then when they wake up all panicked and stuff Crissy will play innocent and say “What? I was asleep this whole time. I didn’t say anything.”

Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!

Good luck getting back to sleep ASSHOLES.

Crissy is not going to blog today because she is out of sorts. And she’s not even hung over.

This is very surprising.

Crissy has just emerged from the shower and while moisturizing realized that she forgot to shave her right leg and rinse the conditioner out of her hair.

Alice has to be at the groomer’s in 30 minutes so Crissy will have to leave the house this morning all hairy (well, partially anyway) and greasy.

Thank Jeezus and Mary it’s Friday, Queefs.

That is all Crissy has to say about that.

So yesterday Crissy drops Girlfriend off at The Sandbox Preschool and there’s this bitchmom with a baby in a carrier and Girlfreind goes over, stands on her tippy toes to peek into the carrier and says “Oh your baby is soooo cute!” and the bitchmom whips the carrier away and says “Don’t put your face near her face! She’s had two colds already this year!” And girlfriend sort of just looked like…”huh?” And Crissy was present for the whole exchange and can say with 100% certainty that Girlfriend’s face did not come anywhere near bitchmom’s baby’s face and so WHAT THE FUCK WAS HER FUCKING PROBLEM?

And Crissy almost said “and you don’t think YOUR OWN PRESCHOOLER might have given her baby sister those colds?”

Nay, nay.

It must have been OTHER PEOPLE’S FILTHY CHILDREN.

And Crissy was so mad that she was very, very tempted to grab girlfriend and ram the mommy down in the street with her car thusly:

Crissy thinks that would have fixed her wagon quite handily.

And yesterday was Picture Day and this woman’s kid was wearing some sort of sweatsuit dress type of thing with lace sewed onto it. It was fugly and Crissy is wondering what kind of asshole does that to a little child on picture day?

Remember how stoogie sort of called Crissy on a random comment she made on Mister’s blog about how if she won this blogger thing that she would post a naykee picture of herself?

And remember how when Crissy said that, she never, ever thought in a milliondy gajillion years that it would ever happen?

Like, EVER?

Well, Crissy felt like having a naykee photo shoot this past freezing cold weekend about as much as she wanted to lick Osama Bin Laden’s sandy ball sack (Crissy has him tied up in her garage! Shhhhh!) but she did it anyway because “anything for my public” is Crissy’s motto. And Crissy likes to keep promises she makes during her campaigns because Crissy is Wonderful Like That.

So without further ado…

Ta-Ta’s

Crissy was rummaging through her brain archives just the other day and she found this story about how when back in the day, way before Mister and Girlfriend, she used to tool around the East Side of Providence with her friend Suzi and drink way, way, too much at the bars and then kiss boys they hardly knew.

And Crissy thought it would be the perfect time to share this little gem with her Queefs since our delightful Ben, from No Ordinary Rollercoaster, is having a little drinking story contest in an effort to raise awareness of the harmful effects of binge drinking.

Crissy doesn’t know what that even means, but apparently drinking until you puke your guts out of the window of a moving car on the highway is a bad thing. Crissy sort of always thought that was the goal because nothing takes your mind off your troubles better than hurling at 75 mph.

Or getting pulled over by the Po-Po like in Crissy’s story for today…

Ahem.

Once upon a time Crissy and her friend Suzi were dating two boys, Alex and Adam, who were just fresh out of parentally enforced drug and alcohol rehab and so naturally to celebrate the boys completing their programs we all met at Crissy’s boyfriend Adam’s house to drink our asses off. From what Crissy hears, Adam turned out to be gay and went on to become a lion tamer in the circus, but that’s a story for another time.

Anywho…Crissy and Suzi drank and drank and had lots of fun talking smack to a statue of Nefertiti at Adam’s house and acting like silly girls and then Suzi realized that she forgot Alex’s Congratulations on Getting Out of Rehab gift at her apartment and also she forgot to feed Skylar, her cat, so Crissy and Suzi got into Suzi’s cute little black BMW and drove back to Suzi’s to pick up the gift and feed the kitty.

Crissy and Suzi made it safely to the apartment and in a continued bout of sillyness and giggles decided to sample a little cat food themselves.

It was Meow Mix.

And if any of you Queefs are ever tempted to eat Meow Mix, Crissy would caution you against it. It’s very tuna-y, it sticks in your molars something fierce, and also it doesn’t go well with vodka sodas.

Maybe a nice light white wine would have been better but what did we know? We were young and foolish.

And so we fed the cat and grabbed the gift and stumbed back down the stairs and into the car to go back to Adam’s fancy East Side mansion.

So there we were in the car around midnight, smoking cigarettes and loudly singing the Beastie Boy’s No Sleep Till’ Brooklyn with all the windows and the sun roof open, Meow Mix still stuck in our teeth and unbeknownst to us, we were doing 55 in a 25 going the wrong way down swanky Blackstone Boulevard.

And then, oddly enough, the police were behind us pulling us over which we thought was just about the funniest. thing. ever. and Crissy is not afraid to tell you that we were not worried about getting in trouble with the police because we were two of the hottest little blondies you’ve ever seen and here we were in a BMW in a richy-rich neighborhood in the middle of the night being very, very naughty indeed.

What could we possibly be up to that the police would be concerned about?

And do you know why the officer pulled us over? It wasn’t the speeding the wrong way down a one way street. It wasn’t the blasting stereo. It wasn’t even that we smelled like a distillery.

There was a headlight out and the officer wanted us to know. And when he asked Suzi to put on the high beams to see if those lights were out too–or maybe Crissy was driving? Things start to get a little fuzzy at this point in the story, the windshield wipers went on instead.

Woopsie Ossifer!

Anyway, the officer was very understanding about the headlight and everything and let us go on our way without even a mention of the one way thing or the 30 mph over the speed limit thing or the drunk thing and we went back to Adam’s house and laughed about it all and had a toast to the Pigs and then at some point went home and passed out.

Crissy and Suzi woke up together at Suzi’s apartment in Suzi’s bed, both of us terminally hungover, and um, well, we were wet.

As it turns out, Crissy had wet both the bed and Suzi.

Ever pee in somebody’s bed?

It’s awkward as ass.

Yesterday Crissy was in quite a tear indeed. After waking up late at the glorious hour of 7:00AM(!!!!) the entire household was thrown into a panic to get out of the house on time. It was chaos.

And Crissy was running late having packed two lunches and making two breakfasts and getting herself and Girlfriend showered, dressed, peed, and out the door for school and work.

Crissy drove like the wind to the Sandbox Preschool to drop Girlfriend off and as she turned the corner near the school she realized she was going nowhere fast because before her sat a big, big, gigantic YUKON blocking the street.

So Crissy waited.

And she waited.

tick-tock…

Some of us have a J-O-B to get to Cock Knocker!

Move your fucking pig!

And do you know what the fucking hold up was Queefs?

Some fucktard, some assclown, some dickweed, was blocking the street because he wanted a parking spot RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE SCHOOL. The rest of the street was totally clear. Plenty of parking spots for everyone but this fuck face decided that he couldn’t possibly walk fifty feet to the school with little Jayden or Brayden or Caydence or whatever fucking yuppy snot name he named his fucking kid and so he decided that it was okay to block the street and sit and wait for a good spot to park his big fat hog.

And he’s not the only Dickmo in an SUV. They all have those HUGE ASS SUVS. They drive Range Rovers, Navigators, Suburbans, Yukons, Explorers, and there’s even some weird looking Mercedes abomination. And Crissy can totally see why it’s necessary to drive such a thing. Everyone knows you need the largest vehicle possible to deliver little Landon and little Ashlyn to school safely. You don’t know what could happen in the five minute trip from your house to the school.

There might be some peasants trying to cross the street and you might need to run them over so you’re not late for your busy street blocking appointment.

And so they fight to park their giant cars RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE SCHOOL and then when they get into the play yard they all stand around with the chitting and the chatting and block the fucking entrance to the school so that Crissy and Girlfriend have to fight their way through the crowd of mommies to get inside.

Again, some of us have J-O-B-S to get to and can’t stand around clucking like a bunch of damned hens.

Crissy is mad and she’s already fed up with the Preschool Mommies.

Crissy feels a Barbie attack coming on.

Wait for it…

It will be bloody.

Crissy has caught the Monkey Plague from Girlfriend and spent most of the weekend in Bedfordshire doing this:

And the Biggest Pussy Ever is really irritated because Girlfriend takes up so much space in the bed that he is forced to sleep on the very edge so that he doesn’t get any ugliness of the human on him. And he’s been eating Crissy’s plants and barfing them up in inconvenient places like under the dining room table and in Crissy’s shoes (not the cute ones everyone loved last week) just to punish her for the invasion of his daytime sleeping place.

He’s such a bitch sometimes.

Anyway this all means that Crissy didn’t really have a chance to prepare another genius, brilliant, fantastic, astoundingly smart and funny post for you today because of all the wheezing and sleeping and the sore throating and the whining at Mister that she did that took up the bulk of her weekend.

And so Crissy is never one to post OPF (Other People’s Funny) but today that is what she is doing because it is Monday and she is just now joining the land of the living and the breathing.

Ta-Da!

Click to make it bigger so you can read it. Don’t be lazy Queefs.

You know how people ask you this annoying question: “if you could have lunch with anyone in the world, who would it be?” And you’re supposed to pick someone really impressive and shit like Dali Lama or Obama or Oprah or Toonces the Driving Cat or somebody like that?

Well Crissy picks whoever wrote that crap up there. Everyone else is useless to her.

Crissy has a very big problem.

She’d show it to you, but she has a very strict policy against being ugly in front of her Queefs.

Also it won’t fit into the frame of the picture.

Crissy would call it a zit or a pimple but that would be an understatement. Those words are too cute.

It’s more like this:

It’s a second face growing on Crissy’s chin.

Nay.

It’s more like a small town growing on Crissy’s chin.

It has applied for it’s own zip code.

And it wouldn’t surprise Crissy to see this thing if she wasn’t so meticulous about her skincare regimen or if she was expecting her period.

But she is and she’s not.

So WHAT THE FUCKING FUCKITY FUCK FUCK FUCK????

WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS????

How is Crissy supposed to enjoy her weekend?

And Crissy has tried to cover it up with some concealer and some loose powder but it just slides off the sides and creates a bulls-eye type ring around it instead.

Sort of like Saturn.

And Crissy has been trying to burn it off by obsessively putting Retin-A on it every thirty seconds or so. This seems to be working but Crissy doesn’t think that Shane, her face doctor, would approve of this method.

But Shane doesn’t have to walk around with this thing on his face so he can just suck Crissy’s dick.

So what Crissy wants to know is if her Queefs have any better ideas for how she can make this thing go away.

Like,

Right.

Fucking.

NOW.

A $600 prize to see her naked?

Wow.

Um.

Crissy had a post all ready for you for this morning and then she came across Stoogepie’s Naked MILF contest.

And you should all go see because Crissy’s blog is having such naughty sex with Stoogepie’s blog right now that Crissy’s blog doesn’t think she’ll be able to walk after this.

Like, ever again.

You see, it all started a while back when Crissy said on Mister’s blog that if she wins Hottest Mommy Blogger that she would post a naked picture of herself on her blog. And, well, Stoogepie is doing all he can to make sure Crissy makes good on that random thing she said but she doesn’t care because it won’t be the first time she’s been naked on the internet.

Whatever.

It’s just boobies.

Crissy also thinks Stoogie really, really doesn’t want Dooce to win Hottest Mommy Blogger.

Crissy doesn’t either.

Dooce gets everything, Crissy gets nothing.

Crissy wants a turn.

So you all need to go see Stoogepie because he’s offering a prize worth $600 and all you have to do is vote for Crissy for Hottest Mommy Blogger to enter.

Go. GO NOW QUEEFS.

And if you haven’t voted for Crissy, what the fuck is the matter with you? Right now Crissy has only one vote more than the woman who takes pictures of her kid’s lunch box contents and calls it a blog.

Crissy knows she’s hotter than that lady.

Oh holy hell Queefs.

Crissy is hanged over today because her brother is in town and even though he does not drink Crissy took it upon herself to drink enough for both of them because she’s a superawesomefantatic sister like that.

And now this morning?

oy.

Crissy would capitalize that but it would hurt her head.

And the hangover is a very bad thing to go into work with because librarians don’t get hangovers (except for the one in rehab getting cured off the Wild Turkey but Crissy is going to venture a guess that she does not plan on getting hangovers anymore) and so there is no sympathy to be had today among the Church Ladies at the li-berry.

They would judge Crissy harshly for her love of The Drink.

And they cannot handle “foul language” either.

Except for Lynne who can roll with a cuntfacecocksuckermotherfucker and that’s why Crissy wants to fuck her loves her so (see Lynn-e? Crissy told you she’d tell the Internets that she’s in love with you!) and also Crissy and Lynne are forced to hide their fucks and their assholes and their douchebags away and speak in Text Message Language when they are around the Church Ladies and it confuses them and they think Crissy and Lynne are strange but what are Crissy and Lynne to do?

WTF?

WTFF?

OMFG!!

And when they hire a New Girl, Crissy and Lynne have a meeting about whether or not the New Girl is “cool” like them or if she is a Church Lady by dropping an S bomb on her at first in conversation with each other and nonchalantly gauging her reaction and then slowly pulling out the heavier artillery until she breaks and her face turns all Church Lady-ish and then via eye contact they decide not to let her into their club.

So far it is still only a club of two with a few people who can “handle” Crissy and Lynne but nobody is as cool as they are so far.

Needless to say Crissy will have a long day at work today and she has to bring Girlfriend in with her because she has no babysitter and she must suffer in silence and know that you fine people feel her hangover pain possibly right along with her on this fine Thursday morning.

Wait.

It’s Friday.

Fine Friday morning.

DAMMIT!

ow. that hurt crissy’s head. no more capitals today okay queefs?