Thursday, July 18, 2013

Getting back on the horse... or donkey. Whatever.

Remember when I didn't work 67 hours a week and I had time to breathe? Those were the days. For those of you live under a rock and have never watched more than 3 seconds of ESPN, it's been hard core sports season for freggin months. March madness, baseball whatever, something with tennis. Idk. Believe me when I say, it truly is madness when you work in a sports bar. I asked my manager if he could put a cot in the attic so I could live like Anne Frank and save on gas, but he denied my request. Tyrant. Although the money has been boner-tastic, I would love to have a full day off, most
full of day drinking, shopping with money I don't have, and schmoozing with my bittys. Besides working like an indentured servant, my personal life has been near non existent. I have neglected my writing for my little lemons which I truly and deeply lament. I could give you all a long drawn out story of what I have been up to, but lets be real, you aint gonna read dat. Long story short, I have been in a cyclone of my own world, totally consumed with anything and everything that you can imagine. Packing, moving, funerals, relationship drama (totes just used the R word), and getting my career in order. But I need to get back to me, and this blog, although some may find it small and insignificant, is a big part of me. So, like a virgin, I'm going to ease in nice and slow.

What can you expect from me? Well, much like your 3rd grade teacher, set your expectations low my friends. I hope to be one here once a week, slowly but surely farting out my random hoopla of this that and the other. And food. And stuff I buy (you're welcome for reviving the economy. That was me.) And you know, stuff. Thank you to those of you who wrote me emails and tweets. I'M HERE. And I smell a come back... or Chanel. Whatev.

& with that, I leave you with one of my latest tattoos. You're welcome.

Thursday, March 28, 2013

The best thing to hold onto in life is each other.


I know that there is nothing that I can state here that has not already been stated, or made profound, but rather I am here on my own forum to speak my peace and put my loud mouth on a pedestal. 

As an open pan-sexual female (or as my lesbian friends like to call me, "gay-ish") living in the breading and bathing ground of political sewage that is DC, I would like to take a moment to address the most recent movement of marriage equality. (Side note: as someone who received like 8 hate emails one time for talking about blow jobs in jest, bring on the hate mail mo-fos.) For some reason or another, there are people who see homosexuals getting married as a threat to the sanctity of marriage. I see it as a tribute. A stepping stone. A new way to celebrate the love and renew the strength that the institution seems to have lost along the way with the Kim Kardashian's of the world - If that bia can marry 2 men, then I don't see why my boo Brian can't marry 1. If you aren't into gay marriage, then I suggest you don't marry a gay person. Which leads me to the next issue.

I don't believe in the term "gay rights". To pigeon hole gay into a subcategory that is other than human is mind boggling. I believe in human rights. To deny anyone - gay, straight, overly confused, black, purple, having 4 teeth, or daddy issues, the right of eternal happiness goes against everything that I know America to be. As we move forward in our political and social views, securing the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity, make sure you do just that. Supporting equal rights, including gay marriage, is something I see as a civil duty as an American, all I can do is hope that you do the same.

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

I'm so ugly - My father carries around a picture of the kid who came with his wallet.

I would talk about the Oscars but just spelling it out alone bores me enough to rethink writing any sort of blog post at all. Ann Hathaway won something, gave some sort of eye rolling expected speech, that girl in the wedding dress that volunteered to be tribune fell on the stairs, yada yada, nothing too interesting there. Instead, today I would like to focus on how I sometimes (okay, often, call me petty, WHATEVAH YO) find mucho personal pleasure in the shortcomings and ugliness of people who are normally perfect. Lets browse the gallery, shall we?

Is this Big Ang from Mob Wives? Why no it isn't! It's princess Kim Kardash that has blown up faster than Jessica Simpson at a county fair. Yes, she is pregnant, and no, I don't care.


It just feels so right. I almost don't words. Almost. Sorry B, maybe your temporary face spasm into what I can only imagine is her best impression of Jay-Z coming to climax makes me jolly to the depths of my soul.



Here lies some of the best D-Lister stars, coming together, and singing a song about mayo. SORRY. Miracle whip, also known as the leftover residue that Lance Bass releases into socks every night after fapping away to pictures of Andy Cohen. Just a hunch.


Moral of the story, look in the mirror and feel good about yourself today. Because if you're reading this, then I already know you're awesome. Lemon Life lessons. It's a thing.

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

I'm the opposite of home sick, I'm sick of being home.

Well...


Side note -  are you guys loving this gif streak as much as I am? Also, this is actually a real life pictorial of myself. After entering what I thought was the 10th hour of a hangover, I thought to myself - "hey self, I'm going to go ahead and guess that you are actually sick." I medicated myself heavily and awoke the next day wanting to launch myself out of my window and splatter onto the grey cinder blocks below. Hopping in my car and popping over to the lovely people at the emergency room (Seriously - you all are a bunch of ass holes. I have health insurance and speak English - act accordingly). After a very early morning struggle, we came to the resolution that I have a strain of Mononucleosis and Laryngitis - I use the word "we" because it was a group effort. Not only am I dragging like a pair of testicles on a geriatric man in a sauna, but my throat feels like I chewed and then swallowed a cup and a half of glass. To top it off, I also have a wisdom tooth coming in. Happy happy joy joy.



Is it safe to say that Ren & Stimpy are the original booty clapping twerk team? I like to think so. In other news, my producer over at Guest House Radio is about ready to slit my throat (even though it feels like that has already been done) because of my ailments and bazaar schedule. Until I get my act together, pop over to their website, visit their Mixlr to get in on the next one and check out their Sound Cloud to hear some of their previous podcast.

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