Crissy

Alice + Frank: A Love Story

So I let Alice out for her morning pee pee and who’s in the yard but this guy:

No, it’s not another Jehovah Witness. It’s Frank.

And if you’re not familiar with Frank, click here.

After that do try to keep up with us here, people.

Despite Mister’s best efforts to pee all over the yard in an attempt to scare Frank away, the varmint remains undeterred. In fact, I think Frank is a peeaphile because he’s still coming by for snacks every day.

He got my mint.

And my chives.

The little sonofabitch.

And Alice knows full well that we’re mad at Frank and so what does she do?

Chase him?

Bark at him and tell him “GO HOME FRANK!”?

Nay, nay.

She walks right up to him and ESKIMO KISSES HIM!!!! (is it still okay to say Eskimo Kissing? I know sitting Indian Style is now criss cross applesauce, so is it Eskimo American Kissing, or do we call it something else? Nosy nosy canoodle? Help me.)

Why not just let him fuck you Alice? And then you two can live happily ever after in a nest down by the pond and raise your little family of mint eating Schnauzerchuck babies.

I mean seriously!

I just paid $40 to have her hair cut yesterday, and she has a vet appointment on Friday at which I will be forced, again, to defend her when the vet tells me she’s “overweight” and I will have to cover her ears to protect her against his insensitive remarks and insist that she’s just fluffy!  and then choke the vet until he concurs and also it will be expensive. You’d think the least she could do is refrain from flirting with garden eating woodland creatures.

Where is the love?  Where is the gratitude Internet?

When there’s no respect for The QOFE, I turn into a cranky pants.

Just sayin’.

Hi-Ho, Freak Show!

Yesterday morning I was hanging around the house having a Boo Radley moment when the fucking door bell rings.

I open the door with a pants-less Girlfriend (who had just peed her panties) on my hip and who stands before me but two pubescent Jehovah Witnesses. They’re dressed in suits from Salvation Army and carrying equally sad looking brief cases full of “information” or as I call it “throw that shit in the recycle bin.” The tall one’s voice cracked as he says “good morning ma’am. Are you busy?”

“YES! I am!” I said and threw the door closed.

Fucking hooligans.

Had I been feeling better I would have invited them in so I could tell them how great birthday parties are and that some families get to keep daddy and mommy’s paychecks instead of handing them over to the church, or the temple, or the hall, or whatever they call it, but I was sick so whatever. Fuck them.

“Why are the Jehovahs sending their children to you? Don’t they know you’re Satan’s whore and can turn their boys into fire monsters without any effort at all? ”

I’m glad you asked.

They used to visit our old house and my stoopy husband would actually spend time talking to them. They came once a week at least and caught us in various states of wrong.

I once answered the door in my underwear holding a soaking wet and shaking Alice (long story, but I’ll give you the short version; I was giving her a bath).

Once I had my shirt half off with a 5 month old Girlfriend sucking from my boobie.

Mister answered in his underpants while holding a cast iron frying pan.

I dropped an f-bomb on them.

One day I opened the door to find a couple who looked exactly like Mister and me except I did not like her bag and so I said “Um, holy shit! The only thing is I would never carry that purse. So, yeah. No thanks.”

I told them we were devoted Catholics.

When that didn’t work, I told them we enjoy sacrificing kittens to the Dark Lord in our living room.

But nothing phases these fucking people!

They’ll take anybody!

I begged Mister to let me tell them to fuck off, but he wouldn’t and so off they did not fuck.

In fact, he enjoyed their company so much that when we moved, and this is unfuckingbelievable, he GAVE THEM OUR NEW ADDRESS AND INVITED THEM TO STOP BY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

He Did!

And I went coo-coo for coco puffs when he told me what he had done and I think my head actually did a full 360 and the baby, who was only two at the time, said her longest sentence yet: “Daddy, I’m scared of Mommy.”

And every time they come I’m reminded of that scene from Poltergeist when this dude

comes up the front path singing “God is in his holy tem-ple.”

Remember that?

They seem so nice and then just when you trust them BAM!

No birthdays for you!

I’m up on Back Fence PDX today too. Sorry for all the reading. NO I”M NOT! Go read it people. You’ve got an opportunity to worship me some more today, you lucky sons of bitches.

I Am Ass

I feel like ass today. Not AN ass, just ass. I’m sick. But unfortunately it’s not amoebic dysentery like I’ve been praying for all these years. It’s almost like mono with a little bit of nausea and headaches and sore throat to go with it.

So instead of a real post today, I’m going to share with you a story that I wrote for Surviving Myself’s short story contest. I could not for the life of me figure out an ending, so I didn’t use it. I hate having things hanging around unfinished so maybe you guys can help me out with it and we’ll call it a group project.

Oh, how FUN!!!

Anyway, here is the story.

He was confused. Kevin could have sworn that he grabbed a plastic baggie on his way out to take Snow White, his girlfriend Monica’s spoiled little Maltese for a walk. “Where the hell did it go?” he wondered as he fumbled helplessly for the baggie. After a full search of the pockets in his suit, all he turned up was his purple Brooks’ Brother’s tie that made him feel like a corporate big dick whenever he wore it.

“You better not have to take a shit you little shit bag!” grumbled Kevin.

But today was not Kevin’s lucky day.

Snow White started spinning in a circle, the telltale sign that she was going to “go apples” as Monica so delicately put it.

“Noooooooooo! No! No! Please Snow White, not! Now!”
But it was too late.
Snow White went apples.
On the sidewalk.
In front of a church.
With the doors open.
During a funeral.
“Fuck it!” he said to himself. And he was hoping for a fast get away before anyone noticed he did not dispose of Snow White’s apples, but the dog wasn’t moving. He tugged on the pink rhinestone encrusted leash, but the bitch just wouldn’t budge. “Let’s! fucking! Go!” he said through his teeth, a little bit of spittle landing on his lower lip. Snow White still refused to move and was still squatting, but nothing seemed to be coming out…there seemed to be something… stuck…
“Awwww…fuck me!” said Kevin as upon closer, hands and knees investigation, he realized that Snow White had what resembled the string of a tampon from Monica’s trash sticking out of her butt with a wad of shit dangling from the end of it.

He scanned the ground for something to pull the string with.

Nothing.

“Of all the god damned times NOT to find fucking litter on the ground…”

The people sitting toward the back of the church heard the commotion and turned to see Kevin on his hands and knees staring at the dog’s ass.

“Good morning” whispered Kevin, embarrassed as hell, “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

AND THEN WHAT HAPPENS???

Hell if I know.

Help me Internets!

I’m not sure, but I think that the story I submitted is being posted today, so go see it.

It’s a real EYE opener.

Ha, ha, ha, ha!!!

I’m funny.

A Post in which I Include a Gratutious Number of Pictures of My New Purse

I found this purse the other day I was all “I love it!” and Girlfriend was like “don’t buy it mommy. It’s too stupid. I want to go home!”

This worried me a little as usually she is quite the little fashionista and has very good taste, except for all the stuff with Hello Kitty and Elmo on it, but whatever. Everyone has their weaknesses.

She loves these shoes, for example

and she will not take them off, not even to sleep. It’s kind of cute actually, but you see what I’m saying don’t you Internet? Her taste isn’t exactly without it’s hint of the flamboyant and the colorful.

So I bought the bag despite her protest and showed it to Mister when he got home. He looked at it and said “it’s blue.” That’s all he said. Not “that’s nice!” or “wow! Can I borrow that?” Nothing. So I’m guessing everyone hates my new bag, but I love it. It makes me feel Very Fancy and I can shoplift at the grocery store all the live long day fit all the essentials inside it because it is HUGE.

I used it all weekend.

You’re jealous as hell, aren’t you?

Right?

RIGHT???

Maybe I’ll let you borrow it sometime.

Cookies, People

Makes 2 dozen delightful moist and chewy cookies.

1/2 cup raspberry preserves
1 cup sugar
1/3 cup canola oil
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 tsp almond extract
1/2 cup plus 2 tbsp unsweetened coco powder
1 1/2 cup all purpose flour
3/4 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt

Preheat over to 350. Lightly spray cookie sheet with pam.

Stir together raspberry shit, sugar, oil, vanilla, & almond extract.

In a separate bowl, sift together the dry ingredients and dump into the wet stuff. Do it in stages. Dump, stir, dump, stir, dump, stir, just like that. See? And then stir until combined and then roll the dough into walnut-sized balls and then flatten them with your palms. I hope you washed your hands before you started this project. Place on the cookie sheet and bake those fuckers for like 10 minutes. They don’t spread out when they’re baked so don’t panic. When you take them out, let them cool for 5 minutes before you transfer them to a rack to cool the rest of the way. I cannot recommend using a dish towel as a pot holder like I did because I burned my finger a little bit. So don’t be a lazy douchewad. Use the potholder. That’s why God made them.

And you’re done!

Eat them.
YUMMY!

And for the love of all that is decent and holy in this world, do not put whipped cream on them or else the vegan mafia will come and beat your ass with whips made of hemp.