See? THIS broad gets it!

/What every girl should do in her twenties...

You must have missed me terribly...

Sorry I've been gone for so long, but I've been really busy doing important things.... like drinking, kicking ass in lawn darts and grilling meat. We have hosted entirely too many parties here this summer. Not too many in the sense that we're tired of daytime drinking, but because every one of our friends has moved on to bigger and better things.

In other news, our trashball neighbors have a rat that my roommate has affectionately named Bishop Brennen. I believe he may be a distant relative of Fuckbag, the raccoon that lived in dumpster of my old apt. We liked Fuckbag so much, we even wrote a song about him. Bishop Brennen? Not so much. I've actually never seen this thing. Roommate may be full of shit.

The house is falling apart. The doors are all kinds of fucked up, but when we call our slumlord over to peep it out, he says "Yeeeeah. We're not really looking to replace any doors right now. These are fine." REALLY?? Which part of the door looks fine? The broken venetian glass slots (had to remove the glass because the duct tape was no longer holding them in), the ripped screen, or the NONEXISTENT HANDLE!???  If you can find something NOT retarded about this door, then you're a better human being.

Also, we have a 75 year old porcelain bathtub, which no matter how many times we scrub/bleach/scour/oxy clean, the bottom stays filthy. The plus side to this permanent filth is the permanent filth has formed a phallic shape on the bottom of the tub.

Awesome, right??

Are you Hungry for Learning Piano?

While looking for a new church job online tonight, I ran across this dickbag who claims to be able to Teach Piano. In fact, if you print this out, you can get %50 off your fist lesson. First of all, I refuse to pay anyone to fist me. Would I accept money in exchange for the fisting? That is negotiable.

Second of all, who is the grammatically incorrect asshole that Capitalizes unnecessarily?? This is almost as "annoying" as people who put "everything" in quotes.

Third. Some idiot parent is going to send their kids to the this guy. Said parents will call me sometime down the road asking me to teach their kid. Kid has already been playing for five years and is pissed when I make him basically start over and learn how to play the piano correctly. It's a miserable uphill battle whenever a student comes from a teacher who has no business teaching. Unfortunately, there are WAY more unqualified teachers who do more harm than good than teachers who actually know what they're doing. Yes, we usually cost more, but seriously. If you're going to do it, do it right.

Finally, I'm concerned for this guy. Does he have pica? He's eating a fucking keyboard.

I'm sooo tempted to call this guy for a lesson. How can I resist? I get %50 off my fisting.  Anyone who knows me, knows my philosophy is to try anything twice, though this I may stop at one.
I'll keep you posted.

Hungry for Music?

---

I will teach you piano in the most effective way for you personally...
Everyone learns differently so I never teach two students the same...
Let me Help you unlock your true Music Potential...

CALL NOW to set up your first lesson...
If you print this add and bring it with you,
you'll save %50 OFF your fist lesson 

Special Delivery!

So, I come home from a ridiculously early rehearsal to find a priority mail package on my porch. I had ordered a prison hooch making kit from a friend's company. He threw in a few special bonus sample camoflauge condoms for me! I told him it was like feeding a stray dog... he's never getting rid of me now!

Let me just tell you. Finding a present like this at on your doorstep @ 9am sets the pace for awesomeness the rest of the day. I could care less about what else does or doesn't happen. This is a win.
Who's in for a party??!!

Thinking of getting a tattoo

 I can't decide which one to get. Whichever gets the most votes will win. I trust you guys.

I'm sorry, but.....

So, months ago ago I swore off dating. I have no interest in it. But occasionally I meet people and have been TRYING to be more open minded and make a slight effort to get to know people who I normally wouldn't. This being said, I realize nobody is perfect and meeting the perfect person I've created in my head does not exist, so I have to be willing to overlook some criteria I may have previously set. BUT...
I'm sorry, but if you can't spell, I'm not going to fuck you. In the off chance I get knocked up, I will NOT let you contaminate my superior gene pool (or jean pool as someone I recently met prob would have said). I don't care how attractive you are (which he's not). If you talk about how you "waisted" your day or would love to drink "whine" on your "rap-around" porch, I'm sorry. I will be be the first to call myself out on shitty typing and admit that I don't proofread, but there's a difference. You're clearly stupid. I'm not. I can't do it. I'm out.
Also, I met a super cute, ambitious, and successful guy. Gave him my number. I did some creeping to find out he is also a very staunch conservative and religious guy  has a blog dedicated about how my lives for Him. He also created a little logo that represents trying to work for the greater good and to be a man of God. He now proudly sports this logo as a big ass tattoo on his beautifully sculpted arm.
As disgusted as I was about this, I decided to let it go because he was attractive and a good person. Maybe I have just become too slanderous, jaded and spiteful towards the human race (especially people less awesome as us in this house). Through more convos, I come to find that Jesus Christ Superstar has a cat (on purpose) and had just traded in his Lexus for  fucking Mustang. Douche. Aaaand, he loves Disney. First of all, it's maybe fun to go, get drunk and ride the Small World boat ride like once ever ten years. He goes two-three times a year with his family. I hate commercial bullshit. He them came home proudly sporting an overpriced Mickey Mouse watch. And wore it. In public.
This shit ended. STAT. There are just some things I should not have to accept into my life. I loathe adult who wear Disney shit. I'm sorry. If you wear anything with a cartoon on it (Pooh, Tweety or Micky), I will make fun of you mercilessly. And probably give you the extension to QVC's china doll department.

More funny shit

 Well, this top one really needs no explaining why I think it's funny. I had this posted for 2.5 minutes on Facebook and had to take it down because people took offense to it. I have to read about how awesome their kids are EVERY DAY. Listen people. You are allowed to love being a mommy just as I'm allowed to love NOT being a mommy.

I found this lil gem on my way home from a rehearsal tonight, referencing the ridiculous amount of potholes in the road. Good for these people. Way to go, brutally honest white trash.

kids.

 So, one of the awesome things about being a teacher is that kids LOVE to make shit for me. Let me just give this little girl props right now for her mad oragami skillz (shown below).

Convo with a little boy student following said gifter, "Miss Nancy, What is that paper thingy?"  Me "Well, Joey, that's a cootie catcher." "What are cooties and why do we need to catch them?" he asks. So, I then try to explain that cooties are imaginary germs that boys get from girls and vice versa, being very careful to stress that they are PRETEND silly germs. "But, it I don't get it. If they're pretend, why do we talk about it? Are they little white things like this?" as he pinches his little arm. I then get onto the trusty interwebs to try to wiki this shit.

Wiki gave me this "Cooties is, in childlore, a kind of infectious disease. The term may have originated with references to lice, fleas, and other parasites. A child is said to "catch" cooties through any form of bodily contact, proximity, or touching of an "infected" person or from a person of the opposite sex of the same age. Often the "infected" person is someone who is perceived as "different" and bears some kind of social stigma: of the opposite sex, disabled, someone who is shy or withdrawn, someone who has peculiar mannerisms, etc"

Fuck. Childhood infectious disease. Thank you, Wiki. You're a big helper.

Cootie catcher for kids.

Cootie catcher for adults.

shopping

So, I've been shopping lately. A LOT. Not finding what I need because I NEED it and am working with a limited window of time. Until I saw THIS. I'm gonna give that Jersey Shore bitch a run for her money. I think it will be perfect for the symphony and my church gig. Also, look at all that extra room on the sides. You know how much Taco Bell I could house wearing this thing??!! I know, I know. What about if I get cold? Well, at church, I will be covered up in a lovely polyester choir robe.

When I get dressed up to go places like Dollar General and Walmarts, I will wear this

I loved it so much, I had to buy it off the back of some broad with a mullet in Vicky's Secret.

WTF?

WHY DO ADULTS DECORATE THEIR CAR WITH STUFFED ANIMALS?? 
I don't get it. These are the same women who probably enjoy reading the Cathy comic strip, have cats, shop on QVC and collect china dolls. Unfortunately, I took a really shitty picture here. Besides the dog on the dashboard, this driver also had a collection of at least 8-10 Webkins hanging from her rear view mirror. She appeared pretty normal and her potential for getting laid was pretty decent. Why does she have to fuck it up by having a car full of stuffed animals? Does she have daddy issues? I can't figure it out. The worst car I ever saw was parked beside me at the post office last year. The entire dash and back window were packed with perfectly arranged Beanie Babies. You KNOW I had to sit in my car like a creeper to see who it belonged to. To my surprise, the car belonged to a middle aged man wearing shorts, socks and sandals who was waaaaaay creepier than me. (well, the car owner being a man was a surprise, not the creeper part). I'm going to start taking pics of adults with stuffed animals in cars and add to this....feel free to send me pics of creepers YOU see......

I saw awesome shit today

 Like this. Red mustang + Weightlifting reference on license plate= biggest douche ever. I'll bet he has no neck and wears Affliction t-shirts.

 Um, no thanks. I'm pretty sure if I had a kid, he would spell better this this asshole.

Aaaaand speaking of spelling, this was the prize for the first loser in the spelling bee I was in tonight. It was held at a bar and they gave out endangered species condoms to the first one out. I, unfortunately, won an April 2010 issue of GQ with Shia LaBeouf on the cover. I brought it home. I'll read it at work tomorrow. I'll study up on what men want in a woman. Hope things haven't changed in the past year. Not that it matters. I'm sure I don't do anything on their list anyway.

Not worth the free meal.

So, a coworker and I went to a organ company's reception following a loooooooong day schmoozing with the bigwigs in high heels. All we wanted was food.And free booze.  The way receptions are SUPPOSED to work is everyone patiently tolerates a 30 minute awards ceremony, unveiling of the new product line, blah. Apparently, this company didn't get the memo. The  were introduced by the MC like they were the starting lineup of the Lakers. One overly zealous middle aged female dealer in the audience (who undoubtedly enjoys Jim Brickman music) even stood up in support of the single female on staff and yelled "you go girl!"  I shook my head in disbelief.
Following NBA style introductions, we continued to politely clap while prehistoric man after prehistoric man accepted their awards for overpriced circus organs. Thirty minutes into the reception, we're ready to eat. But wait. Someone is handing out 3-D glasses to everyone at their banquet tables. Yes, you read that correctly. 3-D glasses. WTF!?  Mind you, we're at a banquet for keyboard instruments. Not Godzilla. I get really excited because I know that this is just going to be awful.
I was wrong. It wasn't awful. It was ATROCIOUS. All I remember of this fiasco shown on a power point screen was a 3-D style presidential style portrait of the deceased owner/namesake of the company came to life. He began  talking to us as he crept forward out of the gaudy rococo style picture frame.  All the superfans in the audience oooh'd and ahhh'd enthusiastically. Again, I just shook my head in disbelief as the banquet was snowballing rapidly into hell. Movie ends and people nearly bring down the house with enthusiasm. Really? I feel like I'm trapped in an hour long SNL skit. I again shake my head in disbelief. The dealer beside me leans over and said "I'd ask for my money back, but this was free. Can we call Domino's?" I told him to make it Del Taco and it's a deal.
We should be ready to eat, right? Wrong. We still have five ginormous organs to unveil. They are currently covered in some spaceship looking silver lamé fabric. Sorry I didn't get any pictures of this. They introduce two of the organs, which are from the church line. Two unveiled at once, awesome. Now we're making progress. A gentlemen with a pedophile mustache runs up to the stage like he's going in for Lamar Odom. He plays about 372 verses of variations on some schlocky Protestant hymn, each verse demonstrating all the magical things this organ can do. Valiant effort, but it still sounds like carnival music. After his grand finale of pulling out all the stops, (no pun intended. Merrr....) I think we are going to move on to the second organ in the church music line. No such luck. Hot mess platinum blond woman Koby Bryant wannabe comes running up, high fiving everyone on her way to the stage to play yet ANOTHER awful arrangement of more crap that makes Pepper Choplin sound like the Beethoven of choral arranging. But wait. There's more. These people paid good money for rental of the screen they used for the 3-D movie and you bet they are going to get their moneys worth. There is now a corresponding music video of Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire waltzing along to the beautiful of the organ sounds like the ugly stepsister a calliope.
INTERJECTION- I am sitting outside at the pool of the Hilton, and the man five chaise loungers down is laying out in swim trumks, high ankle socks and tennis shoes. Who lays out at the pool with freaking tennis shoes on?? I wish I had my camera out here. I would totally include him in this rant. Ok. I just took a pic with my phone. Better than nothing, I suppose.
So, back to the reception from hell. So, fast forward 20 minutes later. We finally unveil the final two organs together. I just backspaced profanities. Trying to think of a colorful, yet non obscene way to describe what I witnessed. I guess I would compare these beasts to the control station at NASA. I have never seen such a sight with so many light bars, light up buttons, bells and whistles. Literally. Sensory freaking overload. The hot mess of a woman demonstrating this described a new feature in the pedals that she referred to as "The Faker."  It took everything in my power refrain from raising my hand asking her if the name of this model was The Woman. I thought that may be inappropriate, though I doubt anyone would have even paid attention as we were already two hours into the reception. Even the people who were peetheirpants excited were talking amongst themselves, taking advantage of the open bar and playing on their phones.

So, two hours and fifteen minutes later, the circus finally ended and we were allowed to eat. I don't even remember how the trainwreck ended. I disgusted as I was about having to be there, part of me loved this amazing comical (although unintentional- I'm apparently a horrible person by finding this to be hysterical). I wish I hadn't chosed that night to give my liver the night off. I could have been hammered on such an empty stomach. It has by far been the most entertaining evening of the weekend thus far.

Ok, back to the pool. This laptop is going to give me stupid tan lines on my legs. As if the Jersey Shore spray tan I got before I left the miserable Midwest didn't give me have awkward lines to begin with, but it's also wearing off in a weird leper-like fashion.. This is my last morning of lounging the pool, having car doors opened for me and amazing breakfasts brought to me by sweet adorable men named Julio and Jesus. I love those boys. I'm going to miss them.

People I want to delete from Facebook

1. People who quote the Bible
2. People who cut and paste generic motivational phrases from other sites.
3. People who constantly over glorify parenting and the sacrifices they make
4. People who can't spell or misuse to/too/two, their/there/they're, I/myself, etc.
5. To be continued...

Well, that's ONE way to do it!

 Phonetically spelled "food" is usually pretty good for you.

Too lazy to notate five sharps? Just use one GIANT sharp. Rules were meant to be broken.

Why I hate Amurrica

 Exhibit A and B

Why dogs are better than boyfriends

Why dogs are better than boyfriends

1.       They don’t want to have sex with you. Wait. Disregard that. That was the last three men I dated.

2.       On the other hand,  my dog used  to hump me before his balls got cut off. A lot. Not gonna lie. The attention was kinda nice. The red lipstick always makes you feel kind of good like “Thanks for noticing. My tits DO look great today!”
U    Unlike my relationship of nearly four years, my dogs actually enjoy spending time with me and don't go to the bar eight days a week. 

3.       I don’t have to cook. They think everything I feed them is the best thing they’ve ever eaten. My dogs eat their own poop. They think I'm Julia Fucking Childs.

4.       Even when come in from getting the mail, running out to the car, etc, they are soo exited to see me. When was the last time YOUR man even batted an eye when you returned. From a two week work trip. 10 lbs thinner and with a new haircut.yeah. That's what I thought.

5.       They don’t care about your personal grooming habits.... as long as you’ve got a jar of peanut butter. 

6. They like to cuddle and they LOVE morning breath. 

Shit. I'm never dating again.

Bieber is the only fever I want.

Baby fever.  Something I can't fathom having. Bieber fever on the other hand.....

First off, why the eff is everyone so gung-ho about having children? I understand (ok, i DON'T understand) the male ego thing of wanting to carry on their family name. In their defense, their only REAL responsibility in this is not pulling out and their job is done. They can peace out.  For men who decide to stick around, this is usually the time they begin working more hours or banging their secretary while we're at home with a vagina the size of the grand canyon, 50 extra lbs  and a messy house.
I, myself  enjoy Guinness/scotch/whiskey for dinner, sleeping in late as well as sleeping in (my bed or strangers beds- not too worried about specifics here). I don't want to have to get up all hours of the night to feed a child. I don't want to get up to get kids ready for school, pack lunches, argue over homework,  practicing, sit through four hour t-ball games when we all know the stupid game is going to be a tie anyways or tell my third grade daughter that just because her friend dresses like a slut, doesn't mean that she should.

I like to travel. Traveling with a baby is essentially destination diaper changing.  I can't fathom a life where my big vacation is a trip to an overpriced, over commercialized Disney Park. Ew. Whats the fun in that? Yes, I know the kids love it, but I need a vacation too. Sans family. That's the reason I travel. To get away from everyone. Once you're married with kids, you all come as a packaged deal.  You can’t stick kids in a kennel like dogs.  I mean, you could, but…..

Also, why the hell would I want to demolish my vagina beyond recognition just to push out something that is going to create more responsibility in my life? I think my kooka is lovely as it is. I would love to keep using it in it's original form. 

When I see a baby, I say oooh and ahhh like a decent human being should. But really? I feel dead inside. Show me a puppy or a shelter dog and I melt..
It's always the parents who are exhausted, stressed out and broke who are always pushing me to have kids. This is proof that misery loves company.
Also, to men that have a child with another woman/women. Unless you are the most intelligent, witty, intuitive, attentive, creative and thoughtful man on the face of this earth, don't even bother. Precious time and money that could be spent on us traveling and drinking fabulous wine are probably being spent on your ill behaved child. Selfish? Absolutely. But also honest.

 (I wish I knew who to credit the above demotivational poster to. It's genius!)