And we shall name it Taco.

For example, let’s say it’s 2 in the afternoon on a Sunday and there’s nothing to do but Make Sexy Time.

Can’t do it.

There’s this hanging around:

How freaking cute is Girlfriend’s school picture? Too cute, Queefs. Too cute.

Or let’s just say that it’s 2 am and you’ve had a dream about Sexy Time and you’d like to see how it ends and you need to finish the deal.

Nope.

This is in your bed:

because it’s got a cold or there were Aliens in her closet (Crissy swears she does not talk to Girlfriend about Aliens. Girlfriend developed this fear all by herself. She knows they’re coming too. Obama, CALL US!!!) or some fucking thing that requires her to sleep in your bed with you.

And sometimes this does a little cock blocking:

And this is a big offender too:

She decides that Sexy Time is the best time to rest her head on mommy’s shoulder and insist on getting Lovey Time For Alice.

And Crissy is getting rawther frustrated because it’s not like Crissy is one for having the Sexy Time all the time but Jeezus does it suck when the more than willing handyman with the all the right tools is only two feet away from her and yet cannot fix her situation.

And it’s not like Crissy can rub one out either because again,

Hi!!!

Crissy is getting ready to hump her co-workers (you’ve been warned Lynn-e) or her desk chair or the UPS delivery guy.

ANYTHING.

Crissy must find some way to solve her little problem before she does something unfortunate.

That’s right Queefs!

Crissyspage is 1 year old today!!!!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, HAPPY BIRRRRRTHDAAAYY DEAR CRISSY’S BLO-OG, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!

And to celebrate the most important event of 2008, Crissy has made her blog some fat free brownies and then she’s going to take a nap after work because Crissy knows how to fucking party.

The umbrellas in the brownies look like boobies.

tee-hee.

So here’s Crissy’s first post ever and it’s practically virgin territory because only Rachel, Crissy’s Mom and Mister have read it before.

Read Me Bitches!!!

Try not to have an orgasm in your work chair.

The clean up is just too much effort for a Monday.

Yes?

Well Crissy had made shoplifting a bit of a hobby way back in the day and she never took anything big but just little stuff like thongs and lipsticks and one time an aquamarine and diamond ring and stuff like that. It’s very hard to be a suburban teenager with a new sports car and nothing better to do but go to the mall with only the pittance you get from babysitting for little Sarah and Timmy Martin on Fridays.

Crissy’s needs were far too great to live within the confines of the sad and sorry $20 per week she had in her pocketbook. And that $20 was supposed to cover gas money too!

WTF???

And Crissy was very good at stealing stuff and in fact it wasn’t really her that was caught stealing at all but her stupid ham fisted friends. She got lumped in with the amatures. So. Not. Fair.

Crissy still does it sometimes because it’s important to keep your hand in.

Plus it’s really fun to stick it to the man.

Anywho, the reason why Crissy is telling you this is that she has noticed that Girlfriend is quite the little thief.

A couple of weeks ago while at the grocery store Girlfriend was begging Crissy to buy her a pack of gum. Crissy said “No. Mommy has plenty of gum in her purse.” And then Girlfriend goes “Awwwww…but Moooommmyyyy!” And then Crissy is all “Forget it.” And then Girlfriend got quiet and Crissy watched out of the corner of her eye whilst dicking around with the motherfuckingselfcheckoutmachine as Girlfriend took the gum and wrapped it in her shirt.

When Crissy was done scribbling Fuck off and Die on the credit card signature pad, a thing Crissy has taken to doing quite regularly now, she turned to Girlfriend and said “what’s in your shirt?” “Nothing mom” says Girlfriend as she nonchalantly studies the ceiling. “You’re busted lady. Put the gum back.” And she did.

And Crissy found a pair of barrettes in the bottom of the washer that she’s never seen before and when she asked Girlfriend about them she said they were a “gift from the teacher.” Uh huh. There’s also a Tony the Tiger pedometer that seems to have come from “nowhere” too.

Mister decided to have a bit of a sit down with her and asked her how she’d feel if someone took her stuff and do you know what she said Queefs?

“I’m not stupid. I keep my stuff with me daddy.”

We’re fucked.

Earlier in the week Crissy shared with you her concern about the vibrating condom because really?

But you see Queefs the problem is that Crissy and Mister have been together for 13 years and although Mister is a total perv as you all know too well there are things Crissy has no idea even exist.

It’s not that Crissy is Prudence McPrude, Mayoress of Prudytown like Mister says she is. It’s just that Crissy is busy thinking of other stuff.

Crissy has always sort of lived under a rock. Like in Jr. High her first locker had “I want every girl in the school to swallow my cum” written on the inside of it. And Crissy did not know what that meant. She thought the person had really meant to write “gum” instead of “cum” and she thought he must be the stupidest boy alive because ABC gum is just germy and gross. “Why would he want the girls to do that?” Crissy wondered.

It wasn’t until 9th grade that Crissy found out what cum was.

Things started making a whole lot more sense after that.

So the other night when Mister used the term Fleshlight Crissy was not surprised that she didn’t know what it was.

Stoogie and Mister of course know what it is, but do any of you other Queefs know?

It’s this:

and you put your peenie in there and as far as Crissy can imagine you do the hokey pokey and you shake it all about. And it comes in a variety of orifice styles that make Crissy giggle a little bit.

We have the Original Lady, Original Stealth, Super Tight Mini Maid, Original Mouth, and of course how could we not have The Butt.

And for the boys who like the boys we have the Fleshjack which also comes in a variety of styles for the discerning male such as the The Jackass, The Endurance Jack, and The Ice Jackass (Crissy is guessing it’s called “ice” because it’s clear. Either that or you put it in the freezer so you can freeze your dick off. Must be for Necrophiliacs.)

Now Crissy is not totally sheltered because she does know what a pocket pussy is

Hahahahahahahahahaha!!

That’s the wrong picture. Crissy is so funny.

But what Crissy wants to know is how does one clean these things when one is, ahem, finished with them?

That stuff can be kind of stubborn to remove under the best of circumstances and well Crissy is just concerned with the hygenicness of the thing is all.

Nobody likes to get The Crotch Rot.

Especially not from their own toys.

That’s just sad.

She forgot to tell you she wasn’t going to post on Tuesday so she’ll tell you now.

Crissy isn’t going to post yesterday.

Even the QOFE has to take a day off once in a while so she can go to the Saver’s 50% off sale and elbow stupid cows who invade her space and try to take all the good 3T-4T stuff before Crissy can see it.

Crissy wasn’t having any of that shit.

Crissy likes her personal space and when people invade it it gives Crissy the heebie-jeebies and she gets elbowy and she makes this face:

And part of this is because Crissy has been stalked 3 times in her life?

Yup.

Three times.

The first time was when Crissy was a freshman at college and she worked at a panty store called Cacique before it became a plus size panty store like it is now and it was attached to The Limited and this guy who looked exactly like the husband from Sleeping With the Enemy:

used to lurk around the corners and stare at Crissy and then when Crissy left work late at night he would wait for her in the parking lot and then follow her home. And Crissy saw his car at school too. And parked on her street. It took poor stupid Crissy a while to figure it out and tell her parents who called the po-lice and took care of that sick fucker.

And then the next sick fucker followed Crissy at college and then when Crissy was alone he ran up into her and grabbed her and threatened to rape her. Crissy knew he was there and that she was on her own and had her hand around her can of Mace that her mother insisted she keep in her pocket and after he grabbed her she got free and sprayed him.

Too bad Crissy missed and got his collar instead and he just laughed at her and that was her chance to RUN LIKE THE WIND, uphill in gray flannel mary janes and a miniskirt, carrying a half eaten apple, a laptop, and 30lbs of books in her backpack.

Nobody tells you that Mace is impossible to aim and when Crissy told the story to the police about how she missed with the Mace they had a field day with it and by the end of the day it got around to all of the little piggies and the story morphed into “stupid girl at Providence College Maces herself.”

And she did. not.

They caught that fucker peeking through the curtains of a nearby house he broke into to hide in.

Stoopid.

When hiding from the po-po you DON’T PEEK OUT AT THEM!!!

And the third incident involves an ex boyfriend who couldn’t understand why Crissy dumped him and so he followed her everywhere and Crissy did some of the fanciest driving ever to escape him and when he finally got frustrated he found her car at work and egged it.

What was Crissy thinking breaking up with him?

Ahhh…the ones we let slip away…

And then there was this other time that Crissy isn’t sure counts as stalking per se. It involves mall security and a question as to whether or not Crissy shoplifted a vibrator and a jar of peach flavored Body Butter from Spencer’s.

WHAT????

Crissy was too embarrassed to buy the stuff so it was far less humiliating to get caught by security, be strip searched by a same sex oriented security officerina and then have them call her parents and tell them what they found in her purse.

Much. better.

Anywho,

All this stalking has made Crissy very paranoid about being stalked again so she thinks she’s just going to start accepting applications for a new stalker. The way Crissy sees it, you can only be stalked by one person at a time (paparazzi doesn’t count) and so if Crissy chooses who is stalking her then she can’t get some creepy fat guy who lives in his mom’s basement. She can pick someone hot and sexy instead of sad and pathetic and scary.

Stoogie volunteered but he’s nowhere to be seen. Either he hasn’t shown up for the job or he’s the Best Stalker Ever because if he is stalking Crissy, she has no idea.

Anyone else want the job? It pays nothing but you get to see Crissy in her underpanties sometimes.

Crissy bled money this weekend.

Like, seriously.

She got her hair did on Friday which was like a millionty hundred monies and then she got a bunch of new Mary Kay products from Rachel (hey Rach! Love the new Pink Shimmer!) and she spent plenty on that stuff too and then as if she hadn’t spent enough money on her head she decided to spend even more on her feet.

So she bought a couple of pairs of shoes too.

Oh, and she bought 3 new bras for her tits.

All super cute.

And then on Sunday all the Crissys went to Target for all the bullshit stuff you go to Target for, only to come out with 10 additional bullshit things that seemed like a good idea at the time.

But Crissy loves places like Target and Wal-Mart at Christmas time because they have so many goofy things that make The Perfect Gift and so what she’s going to do this year like she did last year but none of you read it is go through the aisles and pick out her “Crissyspage Best Christmas Gifts for 2008.”

Here are last year’s picks for those of you who aren’t Mister, Rachel, Lynne, or Crissy’s sister-in-law, Cya, who no longer reads Crissy’s blog. Seems to be the trend of late…

Seriously. Where did everybody go?

It’s just us now.

Anyway,

Mister saw a couple of great stocking stuffers like this:

A vibrating condom.

Huh?

If anyone has tried this, Crissy would like the full report.

Crissy worries about how technology seems to be invading everything. What’s next? Self inserting tampons? With a buzzer that goes off when it’s time for a change?

Actually, that’s a great idea. Somebody get on that.

And Crissy is wondering what Mister was doing in the condom aisle. Crissy and Mister haven’t used one of those bad boys in 13 years. Crissy worries that it might have something to do with this picture because you know how slutty Chinese transvestites are:

That’s Mister and aznman of comments section fame this past Halloween. This is what the nerds in the Network and Telecommunications department do with their time. If your email is down it’s because they’re dressing up in costumes and playing grab ass in the hallway.

Just so you know.

Also he found this:

It’s nut glaze.

Crissy just loves a good glazed nut.

They’re breathtaking.

“She might make you breakfast and love you in the shower.”

RRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTT!!!!

(that was the sound of a record scratching for those of you who don’t dj on the weekends)

She’s singing a Madonna song. All of it.

And Crissy wonders if this is a song she might be singing elsewhere.

Like at Preschool.

Crissy is wondering if she’s made a mistake by letting Girlfriend listen to grown-up music in the car but you have to understand Queefs!

Crissy hates kid music. The only album that’s listenable is The Wiggles Live Hot Potatoes.

or Sesame Street Hot! Hot! Hot!

But the rest is Pure Crap! Do you want to listen to Miss Lila’s Songs for Little Voices?

Fuck. No.

Crissy sure as shit doesn’t want to either.

But Crissy must have music in the car because it drowns out the sounds of people shouting and honking at her she likes it.

Sometimes we listen to show tunes like from The Sound of Music and Annie and Mary Poppins and A Chorus Line (Dance:10; Looks:3 is our jam) but they can get a little bit old.

Sometimes we just want to rock out and so we listen to Fergie and Cake and Madonna and Duffy and Joss Stone and Nelly Furtado and a few others that Girlfriend and Crissy have deemed mutually acceptable.

And how many Preschoolers do you know can say they learned how to spell B-a-n-a-n-a-s from Gwen Stefani?

Not many Queefs. Not many at all.

This makes Girlfriend quite the hipster.

But Crissy worries that it’s not such a great idea. Crissy thinks she might need something more appropriate for Girlfriend to listen to that won’t make Crissy puke.

And so we’re getting this from the library which will raise our coolness factor pretty much through the roof:

Just wait.

If you think Crissy and Girlfriend are cool now, wait until we get a little J-5 in the old mommy mobile.

You won’t even be able to touch us.

Crissy was awake again last night thinking about all the things she forgot to tell Obama on the phone yesterday and also she was wondering if he would help her out with the Historic Dudes regarding her windows.

“Oh. no. She’s not going to talk about the bullshit with the windows again is she?”

Yes. She so is.

Don’t know what Crissy is talking about?

Read about it here and here and then have someone spank you very heartily for not being caught up.

Seriously people. We’re trying to run a blog here. We can’t be stopping for stragglers.

So the other day, Crissy got a call from the Historical Dudes about whether or not the Crissys will be allowed to get new windows for their house.

The answer turned out to be a big fucking “n.o.”

They will not be allowed to replace the door on the side of their house either. Crissy does not like that door but the Historical Dudes do not care. IT’S NOT EVEN ORIGINAL TO THE FUCKING HOUSE!

They’re just trying to bust Crissy’s balls.

Clearly.

As a result the Crissys will be forced to purchase very, very, super expensive reproductions of their antique windows. They’ll need to be fabricated on-site.

Can you see the dollars literally flying out the windows Queefs?

Weeee! There they go!

Nice.

So Crissy is plotting revenge on the Historical Dudes. She’ll go along with thier little “recommendations” but once everything is signed, sealed and delivered Crissy is Going To Do Something.

We could always go along with that homoerotic statue idea we’ve discussed a million times but Crissy refuses to just let it fucking die already.

Someone even suggested we make it squirt vanilla ice cream from it’s wee-wee. Crissy thinks we should be able to rig something up.

Or maybe we should park something like this on our front porch?

Any other suggestions? The QOFE needs your help!

Crissy did it Queefs!

By posting that video yesterday she and Girlfriend singlehandedly managed to get Barack Obama elected for President!

WOOT! WOOT!

Three cheers for CRISSY!

Three cheers for GIRLFRIEND!

AND if that wasn’t enough, she was awake to hear Obama’s speech last night and she cried when his little girls came out to join him on stage.

WHAT?

The QOFE has a tender heart.

That and she did not like his wife’s outfit.  It was a travesty.

Crissy’s dad and grandfather are distraught. They think Obama is going to turn us all into socialists. “He’s going to turn us into France or Canada!”

OH MY GOD THE HORROR!!!!

But Crissy worries about him a little bit. He’s never had such power before and Crissy thinks he needs to call her for some advice. He needs a mentor, really.

Learning how to be the QOFE was not easy and Crissy still makes mistakes sometimes. Not that she’ll ever admit it. That’s just not what Queens do. We assign blame and pass the buck:

“It is not Crissy’s fault she had to go out and spend the mortgage money on designer bedding. It is Mister’s fault for spilling coffee on the old stuff thereby forcing Crissy’s hand. What was she supposed to do? Sleep on a stained bed? It’s unheard of!”

SEE?

Obama. Call Crissy. We’ll talk.

And maybe poor Obama won’t know what to do with all the paparazzi and requests for interviews and the wild monkey sex with interns and the secret service dudes and oh. my. god. the gifts people are sending him!

He’s going to need some help staying grounded like Crissy.

Even though Crissy is QOFE and Hottest Mommy Blogger 2008 she is still Crissy from the Block. She’s still in touch with her Queefs.

She still shaves her twidget several hairs at a time just like everybody else.

She shits rainbows and strawberry ice cream but she never brags about it because she is awesome like that and she doesn’t want to make the Queefs feel bad.

Now if you’ll excuse Crissy she has to go. The Queef line is ringing and she doesn’t want to keep Barack waiting.

There is much to discuss.