You've Got a Baby! In a Bar!

When did we as a society decide that we absolutely, under no circumstances are allowed to bitch slap bad parents? Because it was a horrible decision. And I, for one, don't feel that I should have to abide by such rules. I wasn't present when they were created. No one consulted me. Had they asked I would have voted for bitch slapping. Slapping wastes of space always gets a big thumbs up from me!

There is this intense stigma that you can't say to a parent "hey this is a 10pm showing of an R rated movie, this is under no circumstances an appropriate place for you to bring a 3 year old."

Why can't you say that?

For instance, if you are at the movies, on a Friday night, at a 10pm showing of an R-rated movie and some dumb mom and dad bring a toddler in to this movie you should be allowed to tell them to leave.

Apparently this is frowned upon as I learned this past Friday night.

The second these genius parents rolled their toddler in I rolled my eyes and let out an audible gasp of shock/disbelief. My sister elbowed me in the ribs and told me to "let it go, not everyone has to be told to suck it."

Quite the contrary.

Many people need to be told to suck it and I'm just the girl to do it.

Of course these maniacs sit right next to us. Because really? Where else would they sit?

As soon as they sit down I felt it swell up in me. I am going to have to say something and its likely to not go over well. Like at all.

I clear my throat "You know this is an R-rated movie right? And that its like 9:50? Do you think these are good choices for a 3 year old?"

My sister sinks into her seat. I don't know why she's embarrassed, she should be used to this shit by now. And seriously? Not the first time something like this has happened.

The woman looks at me like I just sucker punched her and then stabs me with her eyes and says "excuse me?"

Yeah, cause I'm the one whose inappropriate.

I raise my voice "Oh I'm sorry, maybe you couldn't hear me. I was just asking why you thought it was a good call to bring a toddler to a late showing of an R rated movie? Did you learn that in Parenting 101?"

The whole theater goes quiet.

"How dare you question me! I'm a mother I deserve respect."

"Bringing a baby to a 10pm R rated movie does not allow you to have any respect. This is an adult movie, at an adult time for adults. No one wants to listen to your kid flip out."

I hear my sister attempting to stifle laughter next to me.

"Look here cupcake, you have two choices, take the kid out or I'll get management and you'll be removed from the theater."

I then stare her down. She makes a big huff and kicks her husband and they get up and leave. No shit but like 10 people behind us clapped. I stood up and bowed.

It's important to acknowledge my people.

"See that's why I do things like that."

"And what are you going to do when she stabs you in the parking lot?"

"That's why you're here. Someone has to drive me to the emergency room."

At Least Now You Know What Happened to All the Singles from the Monopoly Game

Okay so there is some chatter on the internets about this pole dancing doll and whether or not its real.

Either way, welcome to the apocalypse.

(image from www.gizmodo.com)

What's Italian For Duck?

It's been hot as hell and there was no way that I was cooking. I ran out to the local pizza joint to get dinner because apparently some people are too good for cereal. I place my order and sit down to wait for my food. Then I heard a SMACK.

I naturally assumed it was part of good-natured teasing amongst the teenage staff. You know how it goes. Two teenagers work together and flirt by throwing shit at one another. Ah, young love. So I ignore the smack and go about my business. A minute later I hear it again, only this time louder. I look up.

What the crap?

A duck.

A DUCK.

A motherfucking duck.

A duck had somehow wondered his duck ass into the back door of the pizza parlor, marched his ass through the kitchen and was now attempting to fly out of the glass window.

This attempt to fly through glass happened not once, not twice but three times.

On the duck's third attempt to fly to freedom through the glass the crazy, ass, old Italian guy who owns the place starts trying to get the duck with a pizza paddle. Oh, right so on the third attempt the duck actually falls behind the "pizza assembly station" and is no stuck. So the crazy old Italian guy is attempting to get the duck out from behind the station with a pizza paddle. And yes, it is the exact same paddle they normally use to extract delicious cheesy pizza from the oven.

Finally the duck comes out from behind the station and the COIG starts doing what could best be described as spanking the duck (and no that's not a euphemism). The whole time he is spanking the duck he is yelling at it in both English and Italian (because I guess some ducks are bilingual.) It goes something like this:

COIG: (Unintelligable Italian - potentially cursing)

Duck :

COIG: Hey ya! Stupid duck!

(Paddle smack)

COIG: Hey-a duck! Why you NO MOVE?

(Paddle smack)

COIG: (More unintelligable Italian - definitely cursing)

While this is all taking place the young Italian guy continues to make pizzas. I shit you not. He just keeps flipping out dough, spinning it out, dumping on sauce and toppings and throwing them in the oven. The best part? The young Italian guy does not even acknowledge what is going on right behind him. Like this is total old hat. As if everyday he watched some old guy spank a duck and curse at it in Italian. And if thats the case we are so NEVER getting pizza from this place again because I highly doubt they have a pizza paddle exclusively devoted to duck spanking. Even if they do chances are high they could get those paddles mixed up. It's not like one says "duck spanker."

I digress.

After about five minutes the COIG realizes that spanking the duck is doing nothing. In all the time the duck has maybe walked five inches. As if a lightbulb has gone off in this guys head. He starts screaming for a broom. Then he basically plays shuffleboard with the duck. He would sit the broom right behind the ducks butt and just slide the duck across the floor. I'm guessing the duck was okay with it because it never moved or quacked or anything.

Finally the COIG gets the duck out the front door. He walks back in and looks at me and goes "You see that duck?" and makes a shrugging motion with his shoulders and walks away. I then watch him take the broom that was just maybe raping that duck and puts it back in its place. Uh? Shouldn't that be thrown out or disinfected or something? And I'm fairly certain no one has removed the duck spanking paddle.

So basically there is a 50/50 chance we may have gotten botulism from the duck spanking paddle. And you can bet that I didn't eat a slice of that.

Conversations with Fella #436

Me: "Did the job end today?"

Fella: "Yup. Laid off. I have to go to the union hall to see what's available now."

Me: "Oh I'm sure something will come up."

Fella: "Yeah or else I'm going to have to take a side job like that guy in Hung. You know, hook."

Me: "Okay. Well, if you start hooking than so will I. Then we'll see who is a better whore."

Fella: ....

Me: "What? You think you'd be a better whore than me?"

Fella: "No, naturally you'd be the better whore."

Me: "WHAT?"

Fella: "You know, guys will sleep with anyone."

Me: "What? Oh so I'd be a charity fuck as a whore. Is that what you're saying?"

Fella: "No, I just mean its easier for girls. You know, you guys can sleep with anyone."

Me: "Uh-huh. Interesting hole for you to dig yourself out of here."

Fella: "You know, I don't think I'd be a very good hooker. I have to be attracted to someone to sleep with them. Like remember Leona Helmsley? I don't know how guys did her."

Me: "So basically you're giving up because you already know I'd win our hooker competition?"

Fella: "If that's what you need to believe."

I would just like to say that I would totally be the better whore. And I'm not sure if thats a win but let's just call it that, okay? I mean Fella is handsome and ladies check him out all the time. But I mean really? Let's think about the kind of woman who can't get laid on her own and a requires a hooker.

Exactly.

Plus dudes solicit male hookers and I just don't see Fella working with that.

Analysis?

I win.

Why Google May Cause Me to Shoot Myself in the Head

So I was checking out my awesome/disturbing Google analytics (typo....but it stays...HA! anal) page today and apparently a lot of people wonder onto my site because they are searching for one of two things:

1. Bod Man Body Spray

2. Bitter Pudding

What does this say about me as a bloggess? I don't know. But I find it deeply depressing. Because see, I don't know if the people who are searching for bitter pudding are looking for my blog or if there is something awesome out there called bitter pudding and they become totally despondent upon stumbling upon my blog. I also find it pretty hard to believe that someone would have to google my blog name to remember how to get here since it is just bitterpudding. So either my readers are retarded (which I refuse to believe since I know all of you are sexy and have super cool ninja moves) or there is something out there called bitter pudding.

According to Google.....people who search for "bitter pudding" tend to be looking for bitter chocolate pudding.

I'm so screwed.

So to those who land here looking for a bitter chocolate pudding recipe, I'm sorry. I know that me talking about how much people suck and fake hymens may not be exactly what you're looking for but I KNOW I'm funnier than Martha Stewart.

As for the Bod Man people.....I have no words for you. Why the hell are you searching for it? Maybe you should land here and get taken to school a bit. Learn a little bit about douchebags and smelling like the old, desperate guy at the club.

This Is Not Pedo Bear Approved- UPDATED

Alright someone needs to say this and apparently it has to be me.

Guys. When you walk into a Victoria’s Secret could you possibly attempt to not be super fucking creepy? How about you walk in and not give some naughty look to every woman purchasing underwear and bras.

Yes, yes I know. To you these are the sexy little undergarments that you get to see during special times. But guess what? It’s just underwear. No woman has ever skulked around the men’s underwear section of a store giving men the side eye and staring at their junk.

So how about you don’t do that either?

What if you just walked into VS like it was any other store and just purchased what needed to be purchased instead of walking around the store with a big retarded grin imagining every woman in her recent purchases?

And you know what makes it extra creepy? When you are with your teenage daughter.

Yeah.

Think about that for a minute. If you are in Victoria’s Secret being a pervert don’t you think that other guys could be in their having perverted thoughts about your special little angel?

Let that sink in.

So let’s all agree that if you can’t contain yourself for 10 minutes or at least make a reasonable attempt to hide your….um…..lascivious behavior that you do not enter said establishment.

Agreed?

UPDATE: Okay so I was at Victoria's Secret again this weekend making a return. I was strolling around the store to see if there was anything on sale when I heard the following exchange:

Saleswoman: So, I think this should work for you. Did you want to try it on?

75 year old Customer: Yes

Customer's Old Ass Husband: Can I watch?

Theoretically, this is a good thing. Because how cool is it that after presumably many years of marriage this man is still totally hot for his wife's body. But on the practical side, EW.
I was the only person who heard the husband say anything so I look inappropriate when I'm laughing my ass off at the panty island.

So, Could This Be a Sign of the End Times?

Okay, this website is really disturbing on a few fronts.

1) SERIOUSLY?

2) About 90% of the stuff is something I would totally go for on the first day of my period (yeah I know TMI but whateves)

3) The thought that some culinary mastermind came up with these dishes to begin with is insane to me. These pltes are all the true definition of food porn.

It was a different time, a simpler time, a time filled with easy loving hate.

What the hell is up with this?

This video raises several questions:

1)How exactly do you tell time with a clock populated with nothing but swastikas? Does it just mean it's Nazi time, all the time?

2) Was Walt Disney an anti-Semite?

3) Why is their a Mickey Rooney "Breakfast at Tiffany's" era Japanese fella in Nazi regalia?

4) Were talking, pantsless ducks considered part of the Master race?

Discuss.

PS Sorry that I'm not technologically fancy enough to embed a video. We all have our limitations.

Is Plan B Promoting Promiscuity AND Abortions?

Now, before the hate emails start pouring in let me just say I’m all for Plan B.
But the commercial? WTF?

So perplexed.

It shows the girls walking up alone – which hi what kind of low rent boyfriend leaves after the condom breaks? Maybe after getting that Plan B you should evaluate the state of your relationship honey. Maybe while swallowing that pill you should be asking yourself “if my boyfriend really loved me would he have bolted the second the condom broke? Would he have run out the door whilst putting on his pants while I sobbed hysterically rocking back and forth?”

FYI – The answer is if you’re boyfriend cared at all he wouldn’t also be banging your best friend.

But I digress.

After presumably taking Plan B they show the girls go about with their lives. One is getting take out and chatting on her phone, another is painting her toe nails and the blonde girl is shopping for books with her boyfriend.

So? Are we to assume that the other girls are just total promiscuous whores who narrowly escaped getting knocked up by the guy that bought them an appletini and a blow job shot?

Because I’m pretty sure that’s what that commercial is saying.

My friends? Not so Good with the "Practical" Advice

What lies before is the transcript of an actual conversation between myself and my best friend. The context? I was pissing and moaning about looking for a job and she was offering up helpful suggestions:

BFF: Hubby says you need a sugar daddy

Me: Ha! That would be awesome as long as he wasn’t disgusting…wait, why can’t I find a nice, hot, rich guy who is willing to support me in every way?

BFF: Hmmm…take out an ad!

Me: “Lazy girl seeks a man to support her. No weirdos or fatties need apply – just hot, hot, hot men with lots of cash”

BFF: I like it!

Me: I think it should work Wait, I should probably add “no anal”

BFF: Hmm that might be a bit much

Me: No you have to be specific. If I’m not just any fat, sweaty, loaded weirdo looking for anal could come rolling in and no one wants that.

BFF: What if he is a rich, good looking hottie looking for anal? You have to give a little

Me: I don’t know. It would depend on his portfolio.

The Perfect Git for the Girl Who Has Just About Everything

What's this you ask?

Why it would be an artificial hymen, of course.

Perfect gift for the reformed slut! Or just about anyone!

I mean for only $14.99 who could afford to not buy it?

PS Seriously? Someone INVENTED this. Someone took time out of their day to think "gee I bet people would love to be able to buy an artificial hymen." Is this really the way to start out a relationship but lying and using blood filled plastic to do so?

A Lifetime Pass to Dollywood PLUS Chicken and Biscuits? Who Would Say No?

Ever have a day, where you want to punch people in the head everywhere you go? But you can't, because that's felony assault and going to jail really cuts into your loafing and Tivo time?

Today was one of those days for me.

On a day like today I really wish Dolly Parton was my Aunt.

No. Really. Just imagine it. I'm having a bad day - you know when the doldrums are giving you a violent beating and maybe, just maybe, anally raping you. I roll over to Aunt Dolly's. For some reason I see her living in some big ass log cabin in the middle of the woods and envision being greeted by animatronic animals all along her driveway.

Don't judge - this is my fantasy.

I'd walk in and Aunt Dolly would flash a trillion watt smile and say "Hi Honey!" while holding a large basket of biscuits. I would drearily greet her and she'd snap on a concerned face and ask what was wrong. I'd settle in at her big kitchen table, she would fix me a big plate of food (fried chicken, country gravy and biscuits) and listen to all my troubles. When I would finish she would look at me thoughtfully and dish up some down home, back woods, folksy wisdom. You know, like Dr. Phil but without all the jackassery.

After the dishing of down home wisdom she would bear hug me until I nearly burst then send me on my way. I would feel better and wiser after my trip to Aunt Dolly's.

Plus I would get a lifetime pass to Dollywood and she'd probably let me try on her wigs!

Do You Buy It Dinner First?

Um, there are reasons that a book is rejected by “traditional” publishers. Sometimes that reason is that something is incredibly fucked up and violently disgusting. This, this would be self-published for that reason.

By the way totally worth the click to read the comments. HILARIOUS.

Fella: So you're having your make-up thing today

Me: Yup, we're going to Sephora.

Fella: What?

Me: Sephora.

Fella: What?

Me: It's the Home Depot of make-up

Fella: You know I don't know these things.

Me: I don't know what you do when I'm not around. You could cross-dress for all I know.

Fella: Nope. Just run around naked.

Me: Good. Because you would look horrible in a dress. You don't have the legs for it.

Fella: What?

Me: I'm just saying. Not a good look.

I Apologize to Members of Local 235...Unless It Is the Gay Local

There is some context in this conversation with my fella but I’m too lazy to add it in. So just suck it up:

Fella: I was running around naked today at work

Me: Phst..I doubt it. The guys would have been all “put on some pants, jackass!”

Fella: Not if they were gay

Me: That’s true

Fella: I don’t think I work with any gay guys though

Me: You never know. That guy in the Village People was a construction worker

Fella: He wasn’t a real construction worker

Me: How do you know? Won’t you be surprised when he’s working the next job you’re on.

Fella: Not going to happen. He’s got to be like 65 – he would retired by now. But he wasn’t really one.

Me: Again, how do you know? What if he belonged to some random local…..Local 235.

Fella: Local 235?

Me: Yes. It’s obviously the gay construction worker union.

Fella:

Me: What? They can’t have their own union?

Fella:

Me: Homophobe.

(please note that this conversation made me laugh so hard I almost peed myself. Fella laughed too but more so at how hard I was laughing not because of my comedic genius that he refuses to recognize)
Later On…..

Again there is context that would help…but lazy

Fella: I don’t wear the black underwear to work because guys will hit on me.

Me: This is something you consider in underwear choices.

Fella: I don’t want guys distracted on the job

Me: Why the hell would anyone know the difference?

Fella: I already told you, I run around naked on the job.

Me: Maybe you should join Local 235.

(Again my own humor made me laugh myself into a seizure. Again fella was more laughing at me than with me.)