Well.

Remember my last post about Big Pussy crapping in the fireplace?  How could you forget?  It was very memorable.  Especially for me because it’s still happening.

I thought he was sick because when a cat starts doing Things That Are Inappropriate, they’re usually sick.  Big Pussy is about 14 years old now, so you know.  I figured he’s going senile or whatever.  I check his box frequently and have found either nothing at all  in there or a large amount of wet.  And I thought to myself:  “Jesus this is a lot! Maybe the kids peed in here!  NAH!”

And then I got this text from Ehpa:

Yes.

It seems as though her lovely daughter, Xanax, and her son, HulkSmash! have confessed that along with Homeslice and Girlfriend they have created for themselves an Alternate Facility in which to do their business because children today are lazy jackwagons and would rather piss in a cat box than climb a flight of stairs to relieve themselves!

I KNOW!!!! What the fuckingfuck?

I don’t know for sure, but I suspect that this was Girlfriend’s brainchild.

Here’s how I imagine  it went down:

While the grown ups were drinking wine and making penis jokes having adult conversation , the children were in the Porn Basement (which we totally gentrified, btw) watching Netflix and playing the Whee (emphasis on the WH), when Girlfriend decided she had to go potties.

Not wanting to  give up her spot on the couch for too long, she decided to pee in the cat box–just for funzies.  Xanax, HulkSmash!, and Homeslice immediately saw the genius in this idea and decided that this was pretty much the Best! Idea! Ever! and did it too.

Now, some of you may be surprised that I would be so certain that my own child would do such a thing, but you know me.  I’m a realist.  I am perfectly aware that Girlfriend has some, ahem, eccentricities that do not preclude her from doing a thing like this.

The next suspected little genius is HulkSmash!.  This is also the sort of thing he would dream up.  I believe that Xanax and Homeslice are mere followers.

Of course, Girlfriend and HulkSmash! would each throw the other under the bus in a heartbeat, so questioning them will be a lesson in futility.

Here’s my plan:

Say nothing, set up a camera and watch.  Eventually they’ll do it again and when they do, I don’t know what.

Except this is not what I did at all.

I questioned Homeslice and Girlfriend instead.

Girlfriend denies any and all involvement and totally blamed HulkSmash!, just as I suspected.  Homeslice had no idea what I was talking about, and when I said “who pee-peed in the kitty box?” she replied “Benny did!”

So, I believe she is innocent.  Xanax confessed to doing it only half way but continuing upstairs in the proper potty.

Girlfriend is NOT a fan of me blogging about this and says, and I quote:  “you will NOT write about this on your blog, mom!  I WILL NOT BE A LAUGHING STOCK!” Leading me to believe that she is indeed involved in the shenanigans.

The point is, Benny is perhaps not the asshole cat we thought he was.  Instead I have asshole children.

The End.

 

Hey, Queefies.

I’m thinking about getting a tattoo only I don’t know what it’s going to be or where I want to put it.

I think it should prolly go somewhere that’s easily hideable, so when I’m wicked old and stuff I don’t make the nursing home staff throw up every time they have to change my bum.

Like, nothing would be worse at that point than to have like a big tramp stamp that says “JUICY” on it.

That would be an unfortunate and ironic mistake, I think.

I thought about getting it on the back of my neck so I can hide it or show it off according to my whim.  That’s where it might end up, but  I don’t really like tattoos.  They look really great on other people, but I’m not sure I’m A Person Who Gets Tattoos, ya know?

Like, am I that girl?

Next thing you know, I’m getting my clit pierced and hanging around with dudes name “Bug” and “Razor.”

That’s what happens to girls who get tattoos isn’t it?

Seriously though.  What business do I have getting a tattoo at 37?

I must just want one now because I work with The Young People and most of them are tattooed.  I want to be Fancy Lady Who Works With The Young People And Gets Tattoos or some such nonsense now.

OMG!  Speaking of people who think they’re fancy but they’re really not, have you been watching Real Housewives of New Jersey?

WHAT IS UP WITH THAT?  Every last one of those people is a disgusting pig.

What’s wrong with that one girl’s hairline?  It’s half way down her face! Or is that just a really unfortunate eyebrow situation? If I were her, I’d totally buy myself a new hairline with all that money.  Instead, she buys stupid looking shit to put in her kids’ hair.  Why does she do that?  I think it’s because they got her hairline, but she’s not fooling me, Queefies!

You can’t make up for bad genetics with ugly barrettes, moron.

Just like you can’t fix stupid, you can’t fix cave woman hair.

That’s what I always say.

I’d better be careful though because these people are like animals. For all I know, Lady Guido Hair is going to come and tear my extensions out of my head if I had any but I don’t SO TAKE THAT LADY GUIDO HAIR!

I win.

Anyway, who gets a tattoo at 37?   I do.  (Possibly)

Should the Queen deface the Royal Bodkin?

View Results

Loading ... Loading ...

So I went to see Black Swan with The Rabbi last night.  It was okay.  I like the ballerina stuff and the costumes and makeup were gorgeous, and I’ve always secretly wanted a pair of toe shoes of my very own, so seeing those made me very happy, but the ending?

Really?

The Rabbi and I both burst out laughing at the last line because the ending was just so piss poor.  It was so stupid we couldn’t help ourselves.

I know we were supposed to be moved? Or something?

Now, granted, I had just consumed an El Presidente Margarita at Chili’s and she had a DIY Bourbon and chocolate ice cream milk shake (DIY means you order a plain drink and pour booze from your flask into it under the table, fyi) (I must get a flask) and so maybe we were feeling a little silly.

Or maybe the movie was a little cheesy and we didn’t understand what all the hype was about.

I like to think we are budding movie critics and I can see us like a drunken Siskel & Ebert sitting up there in the balcony passing judgment and flasks of bourbon.

That will be us.

PS: I drove her manual transmission car home because she made me do it and it was EASY, leading me to believe that Mister’s car is a dickhead.

A few days ago, I got a friend request on Facebook from a stranger.  This is not a noteworthy event, I know, but check out his profile picture:

Um.  Yeah.  That kinda makes it noteworthy.

And his philosophy is:  Sex.

That’s it.

Sex.

And all his “friends” are either young girls or pictures of lacy thongs.

He is so barking up the wrong tree with me it’s not even funny!  Think again, buddy!

Doesn’t he know he’s talking to a frigid 36 year-old librarian with a brain full of tumors and a constant period?  He’d probably be pretty interested in the lactation though.  That’s pretty awesome if you’re a sickie.

Anyway, it got interesting after I ignored the request and got a message from him that said:

Jim Anderson January 20 at 8:58am Report
hi will u add me ?
And I’m thinking, “shit. Now I have to deal with him.”  So I’m all,
Kristen Lynne Gilbert January 20 at 9:35am
Who are you, Jim? Tell me about yourself. I’m a little protective of my facebook as it is my personal account.
Jim Anderson January 20 at 10:20am Report
i am 38 years old 180 cm 77kg green eyes brown hair married actor i like sex very much and i’m not shy of saying that looking 4 sex adventures all over the globe coz i travel a lot
Oooooo SEX ADVENTURES!!!! I thought… ” GOODY!  I’ve been praying this day would come!”
And so I’m just like,
Kristen Lynne Gilbert January 20 at 11:42am
I have no sex adventures for you. How does your wife feel about your sex adventures?
And poor Jim was offended and he dumped me!
Jim Anderson January 20 at 12:31pm Report
no need for this moral lecture anyway my fetish is to have sex with decent ladies but like this u turned me off
Wow you guys.  I really fucked up.  I haven’t been dumped this hard since, well, you know.  I could have had SEX ADVENTURES but Jim only wants to have his sex adventures with “decent ladies” who have sex with random strangers  who friend them on Facebook and don’t care that he’s married.
I could have had Sex Adventures with an International Man of Mystery, but I’m not a decent enough lady.
I think I need to change my profile picture because maybe this one of my nursing boobies is attracting the wrong kind of friends or whatever.
Or, maybe I should keep it to see if I can catch me some more blog fodder.

I’ve just come back from the doctor.  I don’t have just one brain tumor.

I have 10 of them.

I have 10 brain tumors.

The good news is that they are very small and benign and they’re not going to treat them, but just keep an eye on them.  They’re called “microadenomas” and aside from causing annoying symptoms like the boob juice and maybe the sudden and intense bout with anxiety and the weird periods, they are not cause for alarm.

Except now I totally intend to use them as an excuse for any number of behaviors, like, “I couldn’t do the dishes!  I have 10 brain tumors!” or “I cannot WORK, I have 10 brain tumors.”  or ” I cannot give you a blow job, I have 10 brain tumors!”

So now we need to think of a new superhero name for me.  I’m thinking Adenoma Woman or Super Tumor Lady or something much cooler than something someone with a brain full of tumors can come up with.

I don’t know.

Suggestions are welcome below.

Your Queen is going to live and if I may be honest here, I think I’m pretty badass because when I go, I go BIG.  I don’t just get a brain tumor.  I get 10.

Top THAT, bitches.

PS: In celebration, I went across the street and bought a pair of very nice and very expensive boots I’ve been lusting after for a long time.  Also, I sense a HUGE hangover in my future.  Like, tomorrow morning at this time, I should be barely functional.